"I am happy, ow, to see you are doing so, ouch, well Zarkon." Alfor managed to get the words out in spite of Lotor's ever curious hands yanking on his beard. "You have a very cwuriwous chwild."

His words became distorted as the boy got a hold of the inside of his cheek.

Zarkon looked on in some concern. "I can take him if you wish."

Alfor pulled his face free but made no effort to stop the child's exploring hands.

"Nonsense, were getting along splendidly!"

This was actually quite true. After a fact.

Lotor giggled with delight at not having his curiosity stifled for once, and indulged himself in pulling, prodding, and pinching every inch of Alfor's face. The king nobly tolerated this assault with a gentle smile.

Lotor normally disliked strangers. If his mother were not present, he'd normally burst into tears upon being handled by anyone other than his father or one of the few servants entrusted with his care. Zarkon had dreaded the meeting when his wife had announced she wouldn't be accompanying them.

He had plead with her to stay, but Honerva had just turned up her nose and said she wanted to catch up with a few former acquaintances before taking tea with Queen Melenor. Zarkon hadn't dared to press her further, knowing she wouldn't change her mind without a fight. The small hope that introducing their child to Alfor, the one responsible for their meeting, would patch things up between them quickly vanished.

Zarkon resigned himself to the fact that Honerva would not forgive Alfor's part in shutting down her quintessence experiments anytime soon, and had gone to introduce the two alone.

"Lotor is an interesting name." Alfor mused. "Is it a Galra name?"

"Uhm, no." Zarkon flushed at the memory of when they'd come up with it. "We made it up. In the end, it seemed the most fitting."

"A unique name for a unique child. I like it. "

Alfors fingers attempted to comb down Lotors messy wisps of hair.

"He has white hair."

"Yes, and blue eyes."

"That is rather strange," Alfor said offhandedly, "but also very appealing."

He lifted the child and cooed, "You'll be a handsome young prince, won't you? Won't you?"

This refreshing take on his sons appearance prompted a smile from Zarkon. "Beyond that he seems to take mostly after his mother. I fear he shall look nothing like me."

Alfor gave him a funny look.

"What?"

"He is purple."

"I mean besides that!" Zarkon snapped.

Alfor chuckled at having successfully gotten a rise out of him.

"I jest my friend, calm yourself. The prince is still just a baby. I am sure as he grows you'll notice all kinds of similarities."

Zarkon sniffed with dignity but said nothing.

The king gave him a friendly smile as he settled the young prince on his lap.

There was a lot he wanted to ask Zarkon about Lotor. Alfor had never seen, or really even heard of, a half Altean half Galra child. Their people had been in conflict for so long that any mixed children born in that time would likely have been hidden away by their parents.

Now that they were at peace, there was much Alfor wanted to know about half Galra children. How they developed and grew, how common they really were within the empire, and more. However, for once, Alfor managed to hold himself back.

Zarkon would not have appreciated such inquiries, especially after his newborn child had suffered numerous complications after birth. After all children shouldn't be treated like sample studies. Now that he held Lotor in his lap he was more sure than ever that he was right.

Besides, seeing Zarkon as a father was a novel experience in itself. Alfor had thought it novel when he'd seen the great warrior king as a blushing stumbling suitor and then an adoring husband. Now he was a doting father.

It was difficult to reconciles the harsh, sometimes violent, Zarkon he'd first met years ago to the gentle hyper focused father who watched his child with an unwavering attention.

Difficult. But not impossible.

Lotor gripped Alfor's sleeve and decided to inspect it with his mouth.

"Curious little thing, aren't you?" Alfor chuckled.

Zarkon sucked in a breath. "I… am sorry. He likes to put things in his mouth."

"Well, of course." He smiled. "That's what children do."

Zarkon looked uncertain. Alfor felt a need to change the topic.

"He's a marvelous child, Zarkon. You should be very proud."

"Y-yes, of course," Zarkon still eyed the boy. "But you see, the problem is-"

Alfor felt something hard and gooey clamp down on his thumb and stay there. He looked down to see Lotor chewing on his hand.

"-he bites." Zarkon sighed.

"Ah," Alfor tried to keep his face straight even as the drool dripped down his hand. "I see."

The bite itself didn't really hurt. More uncomfortable than anything else. However…

"He's… really going at it."

"Yes," Zarkon frowned and narrowed his eyes, "he normally only does that to me."

There was a tint of jealousy in his voice, but Alfor didn't notice.

"Oh? Does that mean he likes me?"

Zarkon grunted in reply.

Everything about the way Lotor acted answered the question. It wasn't his fault if Alfor didn't notice.

"Uhm, how do I get him to stop?"

Zarkon wordlessly reached over and picked Lotor up off Alfor's lap, his gums slipping off the kings thumb with ease, and settled him into his own hands. Lotor whined in complaint, reaching for his last chew toy.

Alfor watched in silence before saying, "He doesn't seem to like it."

"He doesn't." Zarkon replied with no further comment.

Lotor continued to whine until he felt his father's fingers gently caress his scalp. He then instantly quieted and leaned into the touch contently.

"That's a nice trick." Alfor muttered, "

Could have used that when Allura was that young."

"What trick?" Zarkon asked.

"Uhm… nothing."

Alfor watched as Lotor snuggled into Zarkon's chest as thought his armored chest was a soft pillow. Zarkon continued the comforting movement of his fingers without looking down. The scene would almost be domestic if it wasn't for the armor.

He smiled.

"Zarkon, did you ever imagine we'd end up here?"

The Emperor's brow creased, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how long have we known each other? A good few decaphoebs? And how long since we founded the alliance?"

Zarkon looked at him blankly as Alfor continued, "Before all of that. Back when… back when we were less than friends. Did you ever imagine you'd be here? Welcomed as an honored friend, married to one of our best alchemists, with a half Altean child?"

"I…" Zarkon paused and thought about it, "I… no. No, I can't say I did."

He didn't feel it would be quite prudent to elaborate on where he HAD thought they'd be at this point.

"I did not either." Alfor confessed. "To be honest, I used to think the conflict between our people was predestined to last another few millennia before any kind of conclusion could be drawn. But, well, then we met and things took on a new perspective and, well…"

He stopped.

"I just feel it really puts things into perspective. It really wasn't that long ago that we may have taken each other's heads off had we happened to meet under the right circumstances."

Zarkon remained silent. It made him feel odd speculating on how things between their people had developed. All had finally turned out well, so he couldn't see the benefit of how things may have turned out otherwise.

Alfor seemed to pick up on his discomfort, and added soothingly, "I am merely saying that we have accomplished much together. I… we, myself and the others, could never have brought on this new peace without you. I just wanted to let you know that.

"Thank you." Zarkon finally said after a moment. "I… feel much the same way."

The sound of a door sliding open drew their attention and Zarkon was surprised to see Honerva standing in the doorway. He almost asked why she had come after all, but then he spotted Queen Melenor at her side, and found the inquiry dying in his throat. Alfor's wife was the type of woman whom he felt sure could successfully talk the tide into turning with the added caveat of making it think it was its own idea.

Behind her Coran was following after the two ladies dutifully, and in Melenor's arms there was the Princess Allura. She had grown a lot since Zarkon had seen her last. Long gone was the blanket clad infant, and in her place was a small adorably pudgy toddler in brightly pastel colored clothing.

"And what are you two talking about?" Melenor asked with a smile.

Honerva and Coran came up behind her. Honerva's face was politely unreadable, with Coran glancing at her with concern.

"Oh just catching up." Alfor said standing up and meeting his wife part way across the room. Allura immediately reached out towards her father who happily took her up in his arms. "How was your tea."

"Very informative." Melenor replied cryptically.

Alfor glanced sheepishly at his old friend. "Honerva, it has been so long. How have you been?"

"Well." she replied with a chilling politeness.

She looked at Zarkon.

He looked back at her pleadingly.

Honerva sighed and spoke, unwillingly, "You have met our son?"

"Yes!" Alfor replied, happy to have a more solid topic to start a conversation. "I've been enjoying young Prince Lotor's company very much."

She raised an eyebrow at that, "Did you? He doesn't normally take to strangers easily if I'm not there."

Alfor frowned at the lack of friendliness in her voice.

Thankfully, the tension broke when Melenor (thank the ancients for that women) interrupted them.

"Ohh let me see him," she said giddily moving to get a closer look at Lotor, "Hello there, small one."

Lotor blinked up at her as he continued to cling to his father.

"It's alright, you don't have to be scared." She said soothingly.

Alfor smiled and carried Allura over to them, "That reminds me, Allura there's someone you should meet."

He moved his daughter in his arms until she was facing the smaller child in Zarkon's arms.

Realizing what was going on, Zarkon immediately cleared his throat and said in a ceremonial manner, "Princess Allura, it is my honor to introduce you to my son and heir, Prince Lotor."

He then held out the boy in his hands to make it easier for the small toddler to see.

The others watched him do this in silence, though Zarkon could have sworn he heard a suppressed snort coming from Alfor. He ignored it in favor of keeping his noble air. No matter what Alfor thought, moments like this one needed to be dealt with ceremoniously. It was the first meeting of their respective successors after all.

Allura leaned out of her arms excitedly pointed at the Prince, who in return stared at the Princess with a renewed interest. He'd never seen another child this close to him in age before and let out a curious whine and reached out to her. The princess did the same and giggled at the sight of the smaller babe.

"I think they like each other." Melenor smiled, "I bet the two of them will be excellent friends just like their father's are."

Zarkon had to smile at that.

"You had best not get my little girl into any trouble, Lotor." Alfor said jokingly.

"Hmm, I feel we should be the ones saying that." Honerva put in lightly.

"Indeed." Zarkon said dryly. "Of course if we are lucky she will take after her mother."

Everyone but Alfor and the two children laughed at that.

Alfor gave them all a hurt look, "I don't drag you into trouble."

"I could literally not schedule a meeting long enough to tell every story contradicting you." Zarkon said sarcastically..

Alfor gave him a look.

"What?"

"Are you being… sarcastic?"

Zarkon frowned and coughed into his hand, "No. That was merely a… metaphor. Of sorts."

Alfor smirked at him knowingly.

"Well I'm sure your highness's have much to discuss." Coran spoke as he skillfully meandered his way into the gold with the practiced air of someone who was used to having to be somewhere very quickly in a very short time frame through very densely populated rooms, "in the meantime, I can take the children and give you all some time alone."

He then carefully picked Lotor out of his father's arms with the same practiced hand of Dayak. Though perhaps a bit more gently. Lotor let out a cry of distress.

"NO."

Coran looked at Zarkon in surprise as Lotor wiggled in his hold. Zarkon stared back with the frozen expressionless face of someone who had just said something without thinking and knew it.

"I-I mean, uh, no. That is not necessary. You need not go out of your way." Zarkon spoke slowly trying to regain a sense of regal dignity. Though he wasn't sure of his chances of success.

Luckily for him, Coran had succeeded in his position in part for his ability to improvise in high class social situations for the sake of preserving his king's dignity.

"It is no trouble at all your eminence." He spoke kindly and added comfortingly. "Why, I cared for the Princess after she was first born, and I can say assuredly that the Prince will be perfectly safe with- ACK!"

Coran was interrupted by a sudden tug on his mustache. His eyes swiveled down to see a pouting Lotor holding a handful of mustache hair in his tiny fist. He chuckled and tried to remove the hand.

"Oh, yes. He does that." Alfor said humorously, "It hurts a little but otherwise harmless. Just push his arm away."

"I'm, uh, I'm trying your highness." Coran grunted, "He has a, URK, very strong grip."

"Oh I know. Very healthy."

"N-no sire. OW. I-I mean it's a really strong grip!" Coran's eyes began to bulge and tear up in pain. "REALLY strong!"

"Oh dear," Honerva hissed, "that means he's upset."

"Pardon?" Melenor asked, "What do you mean?"

"I don't mean to draw attention," Coran's whimpered, "but he's starting to pull."

Honerva went on unperturbed, "When he gets upset he tends to latch onto something. I think it comforts him. Normally it's his father, so it doesn't cause too much of a stir, but well… there have been incidents where he'll latch onto bits of armor, random objects, or hair and simply refuse to let go until something calms him down."

"What happens if he doesn't calm down?" Alfor asked watched Lotor tug painfully on the mustache, his bottom lip quivering.

"He starts crying and pulls on whatever it is. I remember he pulled a whole patch of hair off of-"

"I'm sorry, he pulls it off? But he's a baby."

"Yyyyyes," Honerva hesitated before saying, "it's not guaranteed, but he has these bouts of strength that seem to randomly come and go. I have no idea what causes them. Though… they DO tend to occur more often when he's having a meltdown..."

Every parent in the room shifted their trained eyes onto the baby whose face was beginning to scrunch up forbiddingly.

Coran was on the verge of tears, "What do I do? What. Do. I. Do?!"

"Oh just gave him back to his father." She waved his hand nonchalantly, "and don't look at me like that darling. Between the two of us, you're much hardier."

Before Zarkon could voice a reply he found Coran leaning over and thrusting Lotor towards his father as far as he dared. He took him up into his hands just as Lotor began to let out a wail and pulled. Coran yelped, pulling his head backward instinctively.

Thankfully, most of the manservant's beloved mustache remained on his lip. Save for a few red hairs that poked out between Lotor's pudgy fingers. Coran nursed his much beloved facial hair with a sniffle.

Alfor couldn't suppress a snort.

Coran looked to his master with dismay.

"I am sorry," Alfor said sincerely suppressing a giggle, "but you must admit it is amusing.

Coran's face fell in silent dejection as Queen Melenor gave her husband a look of disapproval.

Having witnessed the show and finding the whole thing amusing. Princess Allura began tugging violently on her father's beard. Alfor yelped in pain as Melenor smiled and said ironically, "You must admit it is amusing, dear."

Honerva watched the whole thing with a smile. Her unsociable attitude having completely disappeared.

Zarkon felt relieved. He'd feared she would be permanently in Alfor's presence. He then made a note to remember to try and have Melenor or anyone else present when taking her to meet him in future. Meanwhile, Lotor was beginning to calm down in Zarkon's arms and was taking a keen interest in the goings on.

"Well," Melenor said ignoring the way her husband looked at her like a kicked puppy, "perhaps now is a good time to get things underway. Coran?"

The manservant straightened dutifully, though his hand still busied itself with combing down his now tangled mustache.

"Can you go get the present we prepared?"

Coran saluted and hurried out.

"Should we be concerned?" Honerva asked, "I only ask because Blaytz tried to give him a knife of all things."

Melenor looked at her sympathetically, "He meant well no doubt. But no, rest assured, it is perfectly harmless to a child. I made sure of that."

Alfor looked indignant and muttered under his breath, "It was not that bad."

The queen sighed and her shoulders went slack with the effort of patience, "It blew up dear."

"Once." King Alfor defended, "I got it working after that."

Honerva looked about ready to ask, but Melenor raised her hand and said, "In that case we can save it for the future when you have it perfected. Until then, we can focus on things a bit more.., symbolic."

Coran returned, a small decorative box in his arms, at a speed that Zarkon could find no fault in. He presented it to the royalty with a deep bow.

"Here you are your highness."

"Thank you, Coran." Melenor elbowed her husband and nodded towards Zarkon.

"Oh, yes." Alfor immediately snapped his attention to the business at hand. He handed Allura to her mother, and took a hold of the situation, as well as the box.

Zarkon watched the box with apprehension. After receiving a warm but foul smelling blanket, an experimental science model, and an admittedly well made dagger; he was starting to get suspicious of packages and boxes.

Nonetheless, Zarkon held Lotor at attention his arms. He wasn't about to have his son looking improper in the face of fellow royalty.

It backfired.

Zarkon became aware of a series of amused stares directed at him. He flushed and very slowly lowered the boy into his lap. No one made any comment, which was almost worse than if they had.

Alfor, however, chose to be discreet and immediately shifted the focus by saying, in his most royal voice, "I do not think anyone in this room, if speaking truthfully, could say we ever expected a day like this would come. When we would host the Galran Emperor and his young son in our court after so many years of conflict, violence, and war."

There was a lot Zarkon could say against his old friend. That he was reckless, prone to being a tad too trusting, and often took a slack attitude towards both his noble station as well as the disciplining of those who worked under him. He was far too willing, in Zarkon's opinion, to personally befriend every person he worked with closely, or to whom he had a significant political relationship with.

That being said, out of all his comrades, Alfor definitely had the best understanding of proper ceremony. His words were carefully chosen to show the proper weight and importance of their current situation. It was a pity, Zarkon thought, that only the few present would hear it.

"We have all come a long way in such a short time, and with this meeting I pray we may make even greater progress, both between our people and with the greater universe at large, in the future. It is therefore, with a great sense of humility, that I bestow upon my friend Emperor Zarkon and his son this gift on behalf of myself and all of Altea."

He then opened the lid and presented the contents.

Zarkon reached in and drew out a circlet of shining silver metal. He turned it over in his hand and saw that a familiar blue crystal was embedded in the metal. It felt thin and light in his large clawed fingers and, had he not known better, he would have said he could crumple it with just a flex of his hand. However, everything of Altean make tended to seem lithe only to prove to be surprisingly sturdy.

He knew exactly what it was. He's seen it many time on Melenor's brow and now on the brown of the toddler princess.

"This… is a crown." Zarkon said slowly.

Melenor nodded, "Well, a circlet. We used to go in for crowns, but as the role of leader became more, er, active it became clear that having a big hunk of metal and crystal on one's head does not have the best effect on the spine."

"You are giving it to my son?"

"Yes," Alfor nodded, "we offered Honerva the same thing but she did not take to it."

"I didn't," Honerva sighed. "They are lovely but I'm not used to wearing such things."

She carefully left out that she had feared Zarkon's court wouldn't have approved of her wearing an Altean crown. At the time of their engagement Honerva had overheard arguments between them regarding the Emperor making such a dramatic break of tradition. So in the interest of diplomacy, she had turned down Alfor and Melenor's well meant wedding gift.

It had been a necessary compromise in Honerva's ongoing consolidation of her own authority. She hadn't had to make many. As it turned out, Galra could be very obliging. Given that you spoke to them in a tone that promised general unpleasantness to anyone who didn't show the proper respect.

She wasn't so sure about her son. She could hardly take the circlet away, or turn it down on Lotor's behalf. It was a reminder of the things she knew he would to inevitably deal with. However, it may have been for the best. It was, after all, just another symbol of what couldn't be denied.

"He is royalty." Melenor said, "This is our way of showing that Altea recognizes that."

"Thank you," Zarkon said meaningfully holding the thing out to his son, who took it, stared, and then gave it his gummy slobbery seal of approval.

"It's more symbolic than anything else." Alfor said simply. "You can feel free to leave it for ceremonies, or leave it in the back of a cupboard."

"I would not dream of such a thing!"

Alfor paused and added, "No. You wouldn't."

That, Alfor thought, was one of the likable things about Zarkon. He really knew how to appreciate symbolic gestures of friendship. Even if sometimes he ended up taking inferences that weren't there.

A platter of drinks seemed to appear out of thin air next to his head. He looked up to see the ready face of Coran beaming at him. Really, the man was a mind reader.

Alfor took one of the chalices and offered a second to Zarkon.

Zarkon took the drink in hand and grinned at his old friend.

"To our future."

The chalices clinked.