Author's Note: Alright, folks! This is the final chapter of Walking the Wire- though don't worry, I'm not going awol again for two years like last time. The first chapter of the next fic, Under the Smoke, will be up sometime later this week!
Shiro's skull had begun throbbing half an hour ago, just as the first scout cruisers had shown up on the scanner, entering the wrecking grounds. He'd been spared migraines back on Earth— unlike a lot of his family— but this was like the way his aunt had described it, an ache building slowly behind his temples, pressure behind his eyes. His vision was beginning to swim, just a little, distorting his view of the viewscreens.
"...Coran, you're sure the teludav will hold for a jump?" he asked, for the third time in half an hour.
The comms crackled, Shiro lowered his gaze as Coran slid across the frame. "Yes, Shiro, I'm sure."
"Everyone else is in position?" Shiro asked.
"Yep!" Pidge said.
"Of course!" Lance chirped.
"Yeah," agreed Hunk
"We're ready," Keith said.
"Right," Shiro said. "Remember, be ready to launch when those ships get to cannon range. We don't want them to get any closer to the Castle than necessary. Allura?"
"I know, Shiro," Allura said, and set a hand on his shoulder. He let himself lean back into the touch, just a little bit, and closed his eyes a moment as his head throbbed again.
A second, much larger, warmer hand landed on the middle of his back, supporting him. "Allura and I will be able to handle the Castle," Sendak said gently. "This isn't our first battle."
"I know, I know," Shiro said. Sendak's hand slid up to the base of his breastplate, not quite a massage, and Shiro let himself lean back a little more into it. The comms were still live, or he would have admitted the worry that made his stomach curdle and tie itself in knots.
"...Do you need an escort to your hangar?" Sendak asked quietly, and Shiro was grateful that he'd lowered his voice enough not to trip the comms.
"No, I'm fine," Shiro whispered back. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, looking up at the comms again. The rest of his team, scattered from screen to screen, watched him with varying wide-eyed looks of concern. "I'm going down to Black's hangar to try and connect with her more deeply. If you feel anything weird through the bond, just...try to ignore it, but be ready. We need to be ready to get out of here as soon as I've made some headway."
"You got it, Shiro," Hunk said.
"We won't let you down," Keith said, nodding in agreement. Even with the distortion, Shiro could see the determination etched on his features.
"You guys can do this," Shiro said, nodding. "I'll see you soon."
The Paladin's comms shut off, and Shiro squared his shoulders, bracing. Allura's hand squeezed his shoulder gently. He turned to look at her, wincing a little under the lights, but relaxed at her expression— the brows upturned, offering him a soft smile.
" You can do this, Shiro," she said gently.
There was a soft shuffle behind him, fabric on metal. "If anyone can make Zarkon cede ground, it's you," Sendak chimed in.
Shiro hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder at Sendak. The Galra tilted his head, studying him in return. Shiro bit his lip, then glanced back at Allura. "...Thanks, both of you," he said. "I couldn't do this without you."
"We'll be here if you need us," Allura said. One of her control panels beeped, and her ear twitched towards it.
Sendak nodded, and when Shiro turned back towards him, the Galra dipped his head. Shiro leaned up, almost instinctively— their brows pressed briefly together, the soft touch of warm fur and warm breath before Sendak pulled away again. "Be safe, and give him hell for us," Sendak said, and grinned, showing the faintest flash of teeth.
"Of course," Shiro said, grinning back.
He stepped back, then, ignoring the way his skull throbbed, and bolted for the hangar. His arms held for the zipline from the bridge, but the strobing of the hall lights drove pain through him, shards of ice through his frontal lobe he had to close his eyes against. He only opened them as he stepped out into Black's chamber, blinking in the dim violet lights.
The Black Lion reared overhead, tall and sedate. Her eye lights were dim, but as he stepped into the hangar they lit again, her face lowering towards him. Shiro hesitated, taking in the chipped paint on her proud nose, her battle-scarred breast, as if seeing her again for the first time. The pressure in his head did not abate, but he felt the brush of her awareness against his own.
"...Come on," he said quietly. "They're all counting on us."
The Lion purred somewhere in the base of his skull, and that proud head lowered until her chin rested on the ground. Her jaw opened. Shiro squared his shoulders again, took a deep breath, and strode into her mouth, to the hatch at the back that let him up into the cockpit. Black's consciousness swelled around him, her emotions pressing against him— deep concern, pride, an upwelling of fierce love that made tears prickle in the corner of his eyes. He brushed them away and settled down into the pilot's chair, letting her pull him forward into the warm violet glow of the cockpit.
The controls did not light, as they usually would. He didn't need them to. He rested his hands on them anyway, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, then settled back in the chair, letting the cushions cradle his aching head.
"Please," he whispered, into the warm, humming silence. "Please, work with me. What do I need to do?"
The Lion purred around him, the sound rich with amusement, as if she were laughing at him. Shiro felt himself smile, almost despite himself, and opened his eyes.
The cockpit was gone. He was on his feet, standing in— on — what looked like nearly an inch of water, still as mirrored glass. A night sky stretched above him, around him, the band of a galaxy's arm arced overhead and mirrored underfoot, stretching on as far as he could see to a distant pale horizon. The stars were huge, brilliant, and he couldn't help but gape up at them. His heart ached in his chest. His head felt blessedly clear.
Something behind him rumbled, a low, animal sound, and Shiro turned towards it. His feet made no ripples on the water, nothing to disturb the endless sky underfoot. His heart leapt in his chest.
"...Is this...you?" he asked softly.
The being behind him purred in answer. It looked like a lion, like a lioness from Earth— small, rounded ears, the long, rangey but powerful body, white-tufted tail wrapped around her paws as neat as any housecat— but no lioness of Earth was black as ink, no lioness of Earth had those flat, luminously golden eyes...and no lioness of Earth had ever stood so tall, towering well over Shiro's height. The Black Lion's tail twitched, and she lowered her proud, scarred head towards him.
"Hello," Shiro whispered, and stepped forward, crossing the mirror until he stood before her.
The Lion lowered her head in turn and pressed her massive forehead against his chest, nuzzling him fondly. Shiro wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against the top of her skull, hiding in thick, night-dark fur. She smelled...familiar, he realized, warm animal and the faintest hint of ozone. The Lion purred, and the sensation rumbled against his bones.
Then she lifted her head again. Shiro let her go, gazing up at her as the Lion studied him in turn.
"...Where are we?" Shiro asked. "What do you need me to do?"
The Black Lion chuffed at him, then stooped, stretching out beside him so her great pale belly lay against the ground— the mirror rippled beneath her, setting the stars to trembling— and her mighty shoulders were level with his chest. She turned her head, regarding him sidelong, and shifted her shoulders, ruffling the heavy fur of her back.
"Do you want me to...get on?" Shiro asked. The Lion snorted, and he felt her fondness as a weight in his chest. Silly cub , her gentle eyes seemed to say. Shiro chuckled a little. "Right, right. I guess I am being silly, huh?"
He stepped forward then, and reached out, taking careful handfuls of her thick ruff, then slung himself gently onto her back. The Lion was warm beneath him, her fur soft under his hands, and as she stood— lurching him ever so slightly, making him drop himself low against the dip of her shoulders— he realized just how huge she was. How secure he felt, clinging with his face pressed into her fur.
The Lion shifted, and when he lifted his head she was peering back at him over her shoulder, her golden eyes crinkled in an expression he recognized from Sendak's face— fond concern radiated through him, pulsing from the place inside him where Black's emotions dwelled. He offered her a wan smile and ran his fingers gently through her mane.
"I'm okay, I promise," he said. "Please. Show me."
He felt the Lion shift beneath him, back hunching slightly, and then she leapt forward, bounding towards the luminous horizon. The galaxy arm stretched under her paws like a road, reflections rippling out with every strike of her paws. Shiro sat himself up a little further, gazing between her ears at the light ahead. Wind whipped at him, blowing his bangs out of his face.
Despite himself, despite everything, he threw his head back and laughed. Black's joy lit in his chest like a solar flare. She redoubled her speed, and at once the light before them blazed , stretching out across the horizon to consume them.
The light faded all at once, and Shiro blinked, clearing his vision. The sky stretched ruddy overhead like a sunset— a dim, red star sat on the horizon ahead, two-thirds above the line where earth met sky. Red earth stretched out on either side, rough, craggy cliffs and hills, and something like homesickness ached in his chest— it was so much like the cliffs and canyons around the Garrison he wanted to weep. He turned his head, peering over his shoulder. Night sprawled behind him, red bleeding into violet and black, a spray of dim stars. A moon shone overhead, much bigger than Earth's moon, half warm amber and half deep blue in the light of the setting sun.
And— something else. One of the dim, distant stars was brightening. Shiro's eyes widened, and the pit of his stomach lurched. The ache bloomed again behind his temples.
"Black," he said softly, urgently, and tugged lightly at her mane. "Black, do you see—"
The Lion rumbled beneath him and leapt forward again, clearing a slot canyon in a single bound, and Shiro yelped and clung on more tightly. The light in the sky brightened and brightened, the star blazing blue and then gold. Shiro cried out and lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face against the back of Black's neck as light and fire bloomed before them.
Only when the world beyond his eyelids had gone dark once more did he raise his head, blinking away the afterimages of the meteor's crash-landing. The light of the setting sun ahead had not changed, but a new light had joined it, radiating over the ridge in front of them. Black slowed to a stop as she crested it, and Shiro sat himself up to peer over her head again.
His breath caught in his throat.
The ground on the other side of the ridge was cratered, shattered . Golden light shone through the cracks in the dark earth, radiating out from the thing in the center— a chunk of black stone, shining with eerie blue fire in all its vertices.
The Black Lion rumbled beneath him, and lowered herself back to the ground, careful to avoid jostling him. Shiro took a deep breath and slid from her back, clinging to her shoulder as his knees wobbled unsteadily, and clung on even after he'd caught his balance, gazing down at the crater.
"...What is this?" he asked, and found himself breathless.
The Lion turned her mighty head towards him, her eyes glowing. Wait.
Shiro sank against her side, and let himself wait.
He had just long enough to catch his breath before the sound of stone crunching underfoot reached his ears— heavy footsteps, and many . He shrank against Black's side, and the Lion flicked her tail to brush against him, a pulse of reassurance radiating out from the center of his chest. The footsteps grew closer, and closer, and—
A Galra bolted up over the ridge just to their right and skidded to a stop, arms flailing slightly as they overbalanced and caught themself again. They didn't seem to even notice the Lion and human crouched nearby, close enough that Shiro could hear their labored breathing, close enough for him to reach out and touch the swirling hem of the deep blue cloak they wore. He lifted his eyes, tracking up their body— and up, and up , taller even than Sendak and garbed in armor painted ruby-red and brilliant gold— until his gaze reached their face, and his heart stopped in his chest.
Zarkon. Young, younger than Shiro had ever imagined him— no older than Sendak, perhaps, his face alight, all his colors more vibrant, his eyes— Galra yellow and reflective, with dark red irises visible— wide in shock as he gazed down into the crater below.
"What—?" he breathed. His massive chest heaved.
"Zarkon!" someone shouted behind him, and Shiro spun around, looking back over the ridge on the other side into darkness.
A quartet of figures moved there— two tall, two smaller— picking their way more carefully up the ridge. The closest, smallest figure moved into the light, arm upraised to shield their face. Shiro recognized the style of Altean armor, gold on white, before they lowered their arm again, revealing familiar features. Alfor. Again, younger, his white hair short and choppy around his face, warm brown skin unlined.
"Zarkon!" he called again, and staggered over the top of the ridge. "Zarkon, wait —"
He stumbled. Zarkon moved like lightning, and Shiro flinched— as the Galra Emperor caught the Altean by the forearms, bearing him up.
"Easy, Alfor," Zarkon said. An ache bloomed behind Shiro's breastbone, and he knew in an instant that the pain was the Lion's. He hadn't imagined Zarkon's voice could ever sound so soft. "I'm sorry," he said gently, and pulled Alfor back to his feet, as if he weighed nothing at all. "I did not mean to leave you all behind."
"Can you see it?" another voice called from below. Masculine, slightly raspy— when Shiro glanced back down, one of the taller figures, the nearer one in blue garb, had their hand cupped next to their mouth to shout up at them.
"Yes, we can!" Alfor called back. "Come up and take a look— it's some sort of meteorite, I think!"
"Alfor," Zarkon said lowly, as the remaining three below began to make their way up, "this is...no meteorite I have ever seen before. Something is odd about this."
"I know, my friend," Alfor murmured back, and Shiro's gaze dropped to their forearms, to Alfor's smaller hands still clutching Zarkon's bracers.
Black nosed at his side, and Shiro turned back towards her. The air seemed to still around them, the figures of the ancient Paladins freezing in place as his eyes locked with Black's luminous ones. She shifted as if to rise to her feet, the fur on her back ruffling.
"...Is it time to go?" he asked.
The Lion blinked back at him lazily, and he nodded and scrambled up onto her back again. She rose, and turned away from the Paladins, who had begun to move again, the last three finally topping the ridge— and bounded down it, down the slope of the crater. The cracked earth fell away beneath them, golden light bleeding through and flooding Shiro's vision as they approached. The shining black wall of the meteorite rose overhead, towering above them. Shiro's hands tightened on Black's fur— they weren't slowing as they approached, weren't veering away, and—
The light flared around them just as the Black Lion's front paws hit the meteorite, and they were somewhere else.
"Alfor, please, we don't have much time," Zarkon said, his voice echoing.
Shiro opened his eyes, blinking at the space around him, then shut them again with a wince. White walls, reflective floor, blue lights— somewhere Altean, then. The brilliance made his head ache. He cracked open one eye hesitantly, squinting against the lights.
The room was vast, the ceiling far overhead, grey steel and arching beams. Tall forms filled the space, and it wasn't until he was able to crack open the other eye as well that he could make out what they were—
The Voltron Lions. New . Their paint was glossy, unmarred, blued metal joints gleaming in the light, but their eyes were empty, unilluminated; more dead than they had seemed even when he'd first laid eyes on the Blue Lion in a cave under the New Mexico desert. He tilted his head back, looking up, and felt Black rumble beneath him in amusement— they stood between the inanimate Lion's paws.
He slid down off the Lion's back again, landing lightly beside her just as Alfor and Zarkon came around a corner and into view. They weren't alone— the three figures from the crash trailed along behind them, and Shiro took a moment to study them. The tallest stood nearly Zarkon's height, brown-furred and tusked with large, glossy blue eyes. The other small one— still taller than Alfor— put him in mind of a deer, cervine ears and short horns and bright gold eyes. The blue one made him think of Lance, if only from the way he stood; otherwise there was little in common, broad shoulders and blue-scaled skin and a head lobed like the fins of a manta ray.
"I know, I know ," Alfor was saying. "I promise you, this will not be a waste of your people's precious time."
The group strode towards them, four heads craned back to gape up at the Lions.
" Incredible ," breathed the cervine one.
"How do they work?" Zarkon asked.
"They're made from the quintessence-infused ore of that comet," Alfor said, bounding forward from the group and gesturing up to the Lions. "This renders them nearly indestructible— we've checked— and capable of regenerative self-repair. Theoretically , it should also provide them with a near-infinite supply of power, but...well…"
"Have you been able to get them online yet?" the largest asked.
"What sort of weaponry do they have?" the blue one asked.
"The initial designs involved lasers, and a hard-light blade carried inside the jaw, to be activated offensively," Alfor said. Shiro watched his shoulder hike. "As to activation...this is where it becomes more...complicated. During the engineering of the ships, and especially as I began to run tests and diagnostics, I began to feel...a presence."
Beside him, Black snorted in amusement. She got back to her feet, padding forward to circle the group. Shiro hesitated, reaching out after her, then subsided against the ship's massive paw, unwilling to leave her shadow.
"A presence ?" the cervine one asked. "You sure you weren't just up too many days in a row, Alfor?"
"Yes, Trigel, I am sure!" Alfor said, hands flailing, and Shiro covered his mouth to keep from laughing. "A presence! A psychic link ! There are beings in those ships, and one of them began to show me how they wanted to be built!"
"And what does this have to do with the matter at hand?" Zarkon asked. "If we cannot act now , all of Daibazaal— my home — will be destroyed."
"I am getting to that!" Alfor exclaimed, slamming his hands back down at his sides. Black rumbled with amusement, circled the group once more, and slipped off behind Green's haunches. "More specifically, I was told— I believe I was told— that in order for them to come online, each requires a bonded pilot. And I thought...well. I thought, there are five of us , and they wished to be five ships, I thought maybe if I brought you all here at once—"
At that moment, the blue one gasped and stiffened, his head turning to look up at the Lions again— at the Blue Lion, whose eye lights had begun to glow golden. Alien satisfaction settled in Shiro's chest.
"Blaytz?" the cervine one— Trigel— asked.
"By Willow ," the largest whispered.
Overhead, the Yellow Lion had begun to stir. Green shifted beside her, not yet moving, and Trigel's head tracked towards her as golden eyes flared.
"Zarkon?" Alfor asked quietly.
Zarkon dropped, silently, to his knees, staring at the ship over Shiro's head— the ship that had begun to stir, lowering her proud, unmarred nose to the ground to admit him.
"...I feel her," he whispered, his voice soft and breaking.
Something shadowy moved in Shiro's peripheral vision— a flash of gold said it was the Lion returning to his side, and he felt the weight of her shift, expectant.
"...Why are you showing me this?" he asked softly.
The Lion did not answer, merely nosed at him again, and Shiro turned towards her, looking her in the eye. She stooped again, turned to present him with her shoulder. Shiro sighed and scrambled up onto her back, burying his face in her neck once more.
"I don't understand," he whispered. The Lion rose to her feet, and he felt it as she broke into a run. "I don't understand. Please, show me—"
The wind whipped through his hair again, and Shiro pressed his face harder against the back of Black's neck. They were still running, he gathered, but he felt her pace slow and slowly, reluctantly lifted his head. The stars shone around him again, multicolored and glorious against the dark.
They weren't all that shone. A bolt of emerald light flew past— another, and then another, and he lifted his head to look between Black's ears, stifling a yelp. A swarm of tan-colored ships filled the space ahead of them, green lights gleaming in the dark. They fired off another round of lasers, and Shiro ducked— then glanced back over his shoulder, his heart leaping in his chest.
The Black Lion was behind him, charging the ships. He could feel her remembered exhilaration, mighty paws striking nothing as she bounded forward. Mechanical haunches bunched, and she leapt—
The red spars on her back that formed Voltron's shield lifted. Brilliant blue light burst from them, and she surged forward again and vanished. Shiro whipped back around to the front just as they crossed the wall of ships. The Lion exploded back into view in front of him, tail lashing, and spun. Her jawblade was extended, eyes burning gold, the spars still extended as vibrant blue wings , and there was a burst of vicious pleasure that tasted copper in his mouth. The void behind him howled, and when Shiro glanced over his shoulder, a line of ships behind him depressurized, bursting in gouts of flame.
Black's stride shifted, tensing, shying away. Shiro whipped back to the front—
And froze. The other Lion, the ship, stared right at them. The ache in his skull surged back to the fore, and he hissed and grabbed at his temples. Beneath him, Black's pleasure curdled into fear.
A voice laughed, echoing around the void— Zarkon's voice, nothing like the gentle youth Shiro had seen. "I've got you now , Paladin."
The Lion-ship's mouth opened, jawblade dematerializing, and Shiro saw the laser begin to glow blue in the back of her throat. His hands fisted in the back of Black's mane. The laser stuttered.
There was no time to brace. Shiro's hands slipped, and he shrieked as he was thrown from Lion-back. His shoulder hit the ground— back— shoulder— chest, rolling uncontrollably. He slid to a stop on his face and scrambled to a crouch, gasping in pain. Black's terror rolled through him in waves, and he looked around frantically. Dark horizon. Stars mirrored above and below, his hands pressing against a floor like glass.
"Where are you?" he called.
"Valkar will not come for you now," Zarkon said behind him, and Shiro spun around, scrambling to his feet.
The Galra Emperor stood several yards away from him, deep blue cloak rippling in an unfelt wind. He glowed, ever so faintly, with violet light, and when he took a step forward it radiated out like ripples on water. Shiro's eyes fell to it, unbidden— and then to the shape behind him. The Black Lion lay half-curled on the floor, lashed with bonds of violet light. Her tail thrashed, and she strained to lift her head but could not rise. Her brilliant gold eyes came to rest on him, wide with the fear he felt thundering in his chest.
"What did you do to her?" Shiro demanded. His hands closed into fists.
"Be quiet , you little fool," Zarkon snapped back. "What could you hope to achieve, trying to face me here?"
"I won't let you keep using her to track us down!" Shiro shouted.
Zarkon scoffed. "So you deliver her, and yourself, directly into my hands," he said, pacing forward. "Did you believe this was a harmless jaunt through memory? When I finish you here, the mortal body you so foolishly left behind will die as well, and I will reclaim what is rightfully mine."
His weight shifted, and Shiro felt his mouth go dry. He'd seen Sendak before, knew what it heralded—
Zarkon was faster. Something slammed into Shiro's chest, flung him off his feet. Pain seared— cracked rib? His heel skidded against the ground. Another impact, this one to his left shoulder, and he felt it and his neck pop as he was thrown sideways. He hit the ground hard and rolled, scrambling back up to his knees. Rolled his shoulder to try and pop it back into the socket. Zarkon had stopped, watching him intently with those eerie magenta eyes.
Shiro screamed back at him, scrambled back to his feet, and charged. A surge of pins and needles up his right forearm as the prosthetic activated. He hauled back and struck—
Zarkon caught it easily on one bracer. Shiro rebounded. Leapt up to fire off a kick at Zarkon's head. A burst of pain up his shin— deflected again. Again on a second kick. He dropped, kicked out to sweep a leg. Zarkon sprang over it, and Shiro barely rolled out of the way before his heavy boots slammed back down. He came up behind Zarkon, aiming a punch.
His fist passed through empty air, the swirl of a cloak just barely brushing his knuckles. His stomach dropped.
A fist smashed into his back hard enough to blacken his vision momentarily. He hit the ground face-first. Bounced , struck again on his left shoulder and caught a ragged gasp as white-hot agony streaked across his collarbone. Airborne again. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Something coiled around him, springing back to bring his momentum to a halt without snapping his neck. Shiro's eyes flew open, and he gasped.
Vines were growing up through the mirrored floor, ripples of emerald light spreading out around them as they coiled up towards the heavens. He was wrapped in them— they cradled his head, supported his back, encased arms and legs in a gentle, protective grip even as they lowered him back to the ground. Below him, Zarkon snarled with rage— the vines grew up around his legs, ensnaring him even as he beat them back.
"What is this?!" Zarkon roared.
Shiro's feet touched the ground.
Green-gold clouds swirled across his vision— he wove through a tangle of twisted grey metal, creeping towards a violet-lit Galra cruiser as it coasted in. The Castle shone like a beacon in the distance, like a lure. The muscles in his haunches bunched.
"You ready, Pidge?" a voice like a riffling stream asked, rolling azure through his ears.
"On your mark," a curl of green answered, Pidge's hands curling around the controls as he readied himself to pounce—
The vines released him, and Shiro darted forward, slamming an uppercut into Zarkon's jaw. The Galra grunted, head snapping back from the force of the blow. He snarled and hauled off to backhand. A coil of vine snapped up around his wrist, and Shiro ducked as the strike flew wide.
" You ," Zarkon snarled. "Just who do you think you are?"
"The Black Paladin," Shiro snapped back, retreating again. Something shuddered in the back of his skull. The vines began to brown and wither, shrinking back into the mirror underfoot— the rumble of Green's consciousness in the back of his mind pulling away. "My Paladins— my friends . They're fighting your fleet right now ."
"It matters little what they do," Zarkon growled, and shook the shrivelling remnant of a vine off his wrist.
Shiro took another step back, hands clenched into fists. Zarkon glowered down at him in turn, unmoving, and—
Dropped back to his knees, clutching at his temples as his skull screamed with pain. Some dim memory flickered in the back of his mind— another gladiator, a massive hand closed around his head and squeezing and squeezing . Grim satisfaction curled in his chest, and he recognized the source with a sickening lurch, as Zarkon's lips pulled back in a bared-teeth smile.
"What—?" he breathed.
"Poor fool," Zarkon said, and stepped forward. "You truly have not learned what Voltron is , though Valkar tried to show you."
Zarkon's hand rose as he approached. Shiro struggled to rise, gasping and shaking as another spike of pain drove through his skull. His knees wouldn't hold him.
"I'm gonna drive them towards you, Keith!" the azure voice called, and the stream poured full-force through him, the deluge pulling the claws in his mind free.
He bounded along a row of tangled ship-wreck, jaw gaping, and ice poured from his maw to cloud the wings of fighters, sending them toppling them from their formation. A cruiser shot through the wrack ahead, rolling to avoid a drifting cluster of shattered satellite shards. A burst of amusement rolled through him, and he felt a tail brush the back of his leg.
The wave struck him from behind, and Shiro snapped back to himself— on his knees, the tide rising around him. He was drenched , icy water dripping from him as he scrambled to his feet. Zarkon's expression was furious . His cape hung sodden, even as the water around them began to subside.
Shiro charged forward, boots splashing up sprays of salt, and kicked Zarkon in the face. The Galra staggered backwards, unbalanced. He landed hard, then leapt for a second. A hand wrapped around his shin and yanked . His knee twisted. Shiro screamed— and hit the ground back-first, driving the wind from him. He choked. Heaved.
He couldn't stand. His knee throbbed, but the leg below it felt numb . He pushed himself back to a sitting position, whimpering between his teeth.
The ground beneath him began to rumble, and Shiro gasped as rock pressed up through the mirror, scattering the stars. Spars of black granite, upthrusts of red-orange-cream sandstone pushed between him and Zarkon, a shield-wall.
"You gotta get back to the Castle," Keith shouted, brushing flame through his mind. "They sent another scout cruiser through the other side of the graveyard!"
"Didn't Sendak say that side was riskier to approach through?" A river of yellow, liquid gold spilling through his thoughts— Hunk.
His paws landed briefly on a tangled wreck, and he leapt forward into space, bounding back towards the Castle. The particle barrier was live, the Castle's artillery firing on something obscured by a green-and-blue spill of gas. Violet light streaked back at them, bursting against the particle barrier's surface.
"Doesn't seem to matter much!" Lance shouted.
The rock before him crumbled, spraying chunks of stone back in Shiro's face. He barely had time to flinch, trying to shield himself. A hand closed on the collar of his uniform, and Shiro sobbed as he was yanked upright, his injured knee buckling under him in pain.
He wasn't on his feet long. Zarkon lifted him clear off the ground, glaring at him, and there was a flash— his own hand, curled in the thick-furred scruff of a Galra child as someone laughed behind him— oh, come now, Zar'a, they're not causing much trouble —
"Prying now, are we?" Zarkon said coldly, and the image vanished. Shiro's skull gave a throb of pain.
"...Stop being so open , then," Shiro ground out, reaching up to grab hold of Zarkon's forearm. "You— they— we're supposed to have— a connection—"
"So you did learn something. A pity it won't save you," Zarkon retorted. "Even with your Paladins defending you, you will never be strong enough to—"
Shiro's hands, clenched around Zarkon's arm, burst into flame. The Emperor's eyes flew wide. Shiro lifted his good leg, trying to kick at him, to break free—
"—Going on?!" A ripple of blue.
"I can't— Yellow's not responding—"
"I've got it, Hunk!" Fading green curled around his wrists.
"It's gotta be Zarkon." Keith, his embers burning dim. "It's gotta be Zarkon— can you guys—?"
His claws had locked into the wreck beneath him, the metal shrieking and groaning. His tail whipped, still firing off lasers at an approaching cruiser, but his flame bled through to the star-filled space Black held as her domain—
Shiro hit the ground knees-first and screamed in agony. A gout of flame sprang up before him, and he felt the kiss of heat but no burning. Zarkon shouted, staggering backwards, away from him. Shiro lifted his head as the flames died, struggling for breath. The front of Zarkon's armor was coated with ash, light-panels gleaming magenta through it. There was no space to catalogue his body's complaints, but his knee would not bear his weight.
"And now you are out of Paladins," Zarkon rumbled. "Pathetic. Did you truly think you could replace me as the head of Voltron?"
Shiro tried again to rise, wincing in pain. "You'll never—" he started, then coughed and spat. Red swirled beneath him, blooming across the surface of the mirror and clouding the stars. "You can't pilot the Lion again, not after everything you've done— I won't let you have them again—"
Black's fear tugged at him again, breaking through the roaring in his head, and he gasped. Not just fear. Fear-love-anguish-worry, pleading with him to run. He crumpled back, knee refusing to bear his weight, and realized he'd landed only a few paces away from her. The spectral bonds holding her still held, but she strained against them to press her nose against his side.
"I won't go," he whispered, and dragged himself towards her, clutching at her fur. "I won't leave you. I won't let him…"
"You cannot even stand , Paladin," Zarkon said. Violet rippled across the water's surface as he strode forward. There was no haste to it, and Shiro's heart sank. Black whined behind him, nosing at Shiro's side again. "Such a feeble creature. Yield, and I will end this swiftly."
A wry smile twisted the corner of Shiro's mouth. The casual, effortless stride, the cool, controlled tone— Sendak had sounded like that when he'd challenged Shiro at the Castle gates, before they'd even left Arus, and it was all too clear who he'd learned it from.
"Some mercy ," he said dryly.
Zarkon came to a halt, his boots mere inches from Shiro's leg. He paused there, staring down, and fear rose like bile in the back of Shiro's throat— he couldn't tell if it was his own fear or Black's.
"So be it, then," Zarkon said.
He stooped, his hand closing on Shiro's collar again to lift him. Shiro squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing a wince as the pressure in his temples built again. Zarkon's satisfaction curled through him, and he gagged, choking on the mix of alien emotion. His hands clutched at Zarkon's forearm.
"Please—" he breathed. There was no point in asking, and he knew it.
Zarkon made a little sound of amusement somewhere in the back of his throat, and Shiro strained against his grip again, trying to pull away. He felt Zarkon's weight shift, preparing to rise. His knee throbbed at the jolt, and he cried out despite himself, eyes flying open—
He was on the bridge of the Castle, staring through the controls and the viewscreens to the chaos outside. The Lions foundered, struggling against the incoming fleet. The Castle's defenses held, but the particle barrier's controls showed signs of weakness. His heart was in his mouth, pulse thundering in his ears. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this. He couldn't—
"You can ," Sendak said gently from behind him, and he jolted— he hadn't realized he'd said it aloud. Those familiar hands, one lavender-furred, one shining black steel, reached over his shoulders, tapping at the screen. The Castle fired off another salvo of shots into the fray. "You can do this, Allura. Just breathe. Shiro will pull through any minute now— we can hold out, just a little longer."
"What if we can't ?" he— Allura— asked, her voice high and wavering.
"We must ," Sendak answered. "Look at me, Allura. We can do this."
He— Allura— turned, looking up over her shoulder at Sendak. The Galra's ears were flattened, but his expression was focused, not fearful. She turned more fully to face him, resting her forehead against the cool front of his armor and tried not to tremble. He had to be right, he had to—
Something shattered . Zarkon's satisfaction twisted, tumultuous, and Shiro opened his eyes— again— and shook himself. Zarkon's eyes were wide, his expression a mask of shock. The pressure in his temples was fading rapidly, as if the Emperor withdrew into himself.
Black rumbled behind him. Shiro felt it as she shuddered, straining against her bonds. Her impulse urged him forward, and he bared his— her— their teeth and lunged, grabbing hold of Zarkon's helm with both hands and slamming their foreheads together. He pressed as he did, trying to strike at Zarkon the way Zarkon had struck at him, forcing his and Black's mingled fury and fear into him—
A training deck, the lights red. A pair of figures ranging back and forth across the far end, hookblades clashing— Shiro did not recognize the smaller, but the taller shape was Sendak, and Zarkon's pride swelled in his breast—
"—Certain how viable this is, sir, but I've been studying the maps of the Arietis system, and they have a dense asteroid belt, with a number of iron-heavy meteors. The reports say they're currently using this to disrupt our sensors, but it seems to me that we could use those same asteroids for an orbital bombardment?"
He glanced up— Sendak had begun speaking before the door had even fully opened, and a flush of amusement ran through him. Typical of the youth. Sendak had a holopad in one hand, and was gesturing enthusiastically with it, but he handed it over when Zarkon reached for it, folding his arms behind his back.
"And has Commander Pirix attempted this yet?" he asked, handing the pad back.
Sendak brightened. "No, sir, which is why I suggested it. His proposition was to try and clear them out using the ion cannon, but I suspect that's an unnecessary waste of fuel—"
"Inform him that my orders, henceforth, are to follow your proposition," he said—
A hand clutched at his forearm, and he stopped his advance— there was no rush in the back halls of Central Command, no one to watch him halt on the way to the throne room and lower his gaze from the doors to Sendak. He understood the anxiety on his new apprentice's face— the youth had been no one, from nothing, and now his Emperor expected him to stand calmly and be presented to the court.
"It will be alright, little one," he said gently, and reached up with his other hand to give Sendak's a reassuring squeeze.
"...Lord Zarkon, what if I can't do this?" Sendak asked. His ears had gone flat, his eye wide, and his lower lip quivered, ever so slightly.
He sighed, something warm and heavy welling up in his chest and throat, and turned, lifting his hands to cup Sendak's face. "Look at me, Sendak. You will be alright." His thumb brushed over the arch of a cheekbone, and Sendak turned his face into the touch. His heart ached. "No harm will come to you at the hands of my court, I swear it. You will be safe."
Shiro's face was wet. Guilt swelled a lump in his throat— guilt, and grief . His hands ached from clutching at Zarkon's helmet, and his shoulders shook. No, not his shoulders. Zarkon gave a heave Shiro recognized as a stifled sob, shifting his head to try and pull away . The grip on his collar loosened.
Behind him, Black snarled . Shiro felt her fury ignite again in his chest, felt her strain—
Felt something snap . There was a sound of breaking crystal.
Zarkon went rigid, and an instant later he'd yanked his head from Shiro's grasp. The hand at his throat moved to his chest and shoved , and Shiro screamed as his back hit the ground, his ribs and spine flaring with pain. He struggled to sit upright again. Zarkon was already on his feet, looming, his face a mask of—
—Pain? Grief? Rage?
Black's head pressed against his side, and Shiro turned back towards her. The Lion was loose — still shaking stardust from her fur, but the bonds Zarkon had held her with had disintegrated. She shoved at him again, and he grabbed hold of the fur at her shoulder, letting her haul him up. His knee screamed with pain.
"You—" Zarkon started.
He never finished. The Black Lion roared , shaking the stars from the heavens.
Shiro's eyes snapped open, and he jolted forward in his seat— in the pilot's chair, inside of the Black Lion. The panels were lit, and his hands were clenched on the controls, so hard his knuckles ached. The tendons screamed in protest as he released his grip, but— that was it. There was no pain anywhere else on his body— his knee was fine, if a little stiff. His ribs were unbruised.
"...Did you just...save me?" he asked, breathing into the quiet of the cockpit. "...Thank you."
"There is no need to thank me, Takashi Shirogane," a voice said from behind him. Shiro jolted, scrambling up in the chair and spinning around.
The Lion, a much smaller Lion, waited behind him in the cockpit. Her tail was wrapped delicately around her pause, twitching ever so faintly.
"...Am I still dreaming?" he asked.
The Lion's tail twitched again, and she stood, padding across the floor of the cockpit to sit between him and the control panels. She settled her chin gently on his knee, gazing up at him, and something warm and fond swelled in his chest. Shiro flashed her a smile and, unable to help himself, reached down to pet between her ears. The Lion rumbled, pleased, and nuzzled up into his hand.
"We are still within the realm of our mind, yes," the Lion said. Her voice sounded like his , a little softer, a little gentler, but his nonetheless. "I am sorry I was not swifter to shield you."
Shiro shook his head. "Don't apologize— I mean, we knew he'd be coming after us, right?"
The Lion hummed. "I suppose we did. You fought with great honor, Takashi Shirogane, and you did well."
"He kicked my ass," Shiro said ruefully.
"You weakened my bond to him," the Lion countered, and put her paws up on the seat between his knees, as if to show him they were unbound. "And you deepened your own. I could not have spoken to you before this."
Shiro nodded, and let himself sink back down in the chair. "...I…" he started, then bit his lip. "...What were you trying to show me, before Zarkon showed up?"
"Our history," the Lion answered. "An understanding. You know what we are now."
"A comet," Shiro said carefully, considering his words. "...Five in one, right? That's how the others came to help us, isn't it?"
"I knew there was a reason I favored you," said the Lion. "Are you able to bear it?"
Shiro took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "...I can try."
"That is all I can ask of you." The Black Lion paused, studying him, then pulled her paws back from the chair. Her tail whisked up, brushing along the side of his leg as she turned to head back down the hall, into the gloom of the rest of the ship.
"Wait!" Shiro called, bolting back to his feet. His heart jumped in his throat. "Wait, wait, I…"
The Lion turned back towards him, her ears twitching and tail lashing as she did. Her eyes were on him, expectant, and she tilted her head as if urging him to speak.
"...Do you want me to call you what he did?" Shiro asked, and he felt his cheeks go hot. Probably a dumb question.
The Lion laughed . "No, Shiro, I do not wish for you to use that name," she said. "I trust that we will find one for ourselves." She padded back towards him again, and planted her front paws in the center of his chest to butt her forehead against his. "...Go. Your Paladins await you in the waking world."
Shiro opened his eyes. It took him a moment to gather himself— his head felt sore and untethered on his neck, and he closed his eyes against the vertigo again and breathed deeply. His hands, clutching the controls so hard they ached, were trembling, but they and his head were the only parts of his body that hurt.
"...Guess this must be the real one, then?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
There was no response, only the faint hum of the Lion's systems around him. Shiro sighed again and opened his eyes, sitting himself upright in the chair. Nothing was active, only the viewscreens before him— but as he watched, the Lion's head shifted, scanning down towards the door from her hangar into the Castle. There was movement; a small cluster of shapes emerging into the bay.
Four of them.
His Paladins.
Shiro scrambled to his feet, stumbling on unsteady legs that didn't want to bear his weight, and staggered to the hatch down out of the cockpit. The Lion shifted around him, her head lowering, and by the time her mouth opened to release him she'd settled her chin on the floor of the hangar, letting him out to blink dazedly in the violet lights.
"Shiro!" someone— Keith— shouted.
Shiro didn't even have time to brace for impact. Keith slammed into him full-tilt, knocking him staggering, and he went down hard on the floor as the others joined in. Not that it mattered— Shiro clung to whoever was in front of him, trying to get his arms around them all. Keith's were around his waist, Hunk's around his shoulders, Lance and Pidge jostling slightly for position— he couldn't help but laugh a little, clinging to them all.
"Oh my god, Shiro," Pidge said, sounding close to tears.
"We thought you were gonna die , man," Hunk said, speaking over her.
"Like, we could tell something was going on—" Lance chimed in.
"—Boom, instant headache—" Hunk added.
"And then the Lions started dragging us back to the Castle—" Keith said.
"How long was I out ?" Shiro asked.
"It's been nearly a varga since you went down to the hangar," said Allura. Shiro jolted, lifting his head to try and see above the mass of hair and limbs.
Allura was standing in the doorway, Coran beside her— surprisingly, no longer sopping wet— with Sendak a pace or two behind, lounging against the wall. Something in Shiro's chest ached.
"We've already wormholed, and it went off without a hitch!" Coran said brightly, stepping forward into the light. Shiro caught the way Sendak and Allura glanced at each other behind him— a side-eye, a flick of the ears— and decided not to ask. "We'll still need to replace several lenses, but we're clear of the wrecking ground, and Zarkon has yet to make an appearance."
"Alright, kids, let him up," Sendak said.
Pidge popped her head up from the mass of tangled limbs to blow a raspberry at him, and Shiro couldn't help but laugh. He sank back towards the ground, towing the others down with him— felt Keith's shoulders begin to heave with stifled laughter, heard Hunk snort behind him, and suddenly the rest of them were laughing too, holding on as if for dear life. They disentangled themselves slowly, still giggling by the time Sendak and Allura made it over to the group.
Sendak reached down, holding out a hand— the organic one— and Shiro took it, letting the Galra tow him back to his feet. Allura caught him as he stumbled, and he turned and let her pull him into a hug.
"We were worried about you," she whispered into his ear.
"We can talk about it later," he whispered back.
Allura released him, and Shiro made it absolutely nowhere before Sendak turned him around and caught him in his own hug.
"I knew you could do it," Sendak murmured against the crown of his head.
Shiro couldn't help the helpless little laugh that bubbled out of him, then. Better that than a sob.
Late that evening, after the hubbub of getting the worst of the damage to the Castle's defenses patched up, after the overactive hubbub of the younger Paladins tapered off into exhaustion, after everyone else— or nearly everyone— had hauled themselves off to bed, Shiro left his room behind and made his way up to the Castle's observation deck. A floor or two below the bridge, high on the Castle's prow, it had the best views from anywhere in the Castle; wide floor-to-ceiling windows gave sprawling vistas of the surrounding starfield virtually any way one turned. Shiro had taken himself up there a handful of times, when his insomnia had driven him from his bed and the idea of taking to the training deck made him nauseous, and he'd parked himself on the floor with a blanket and watched the stars drift past until his exhaustion finally settled in.
This was the first time, he thought, as the elevator came to a stop and the doors hissed open, that he'd gone up for company instead of solitude. The dim teal overhead lights lent little actual illumination, but it was more than enough to pick out the fortress of pillows and blankets heaped on the floor near the windows, and the gleaming white of Allura's hair, cast turquoise by the shadows. Shiro picked his way over, collapsing down next to her on one of the cushions.
"Where's Sendak?" he asked.
"He said he was bringing tea," Allura said, turning away from the windows to look at him. "He'll be up in a dobosh or two, I think."
The elevator doors hissed shut behind him, and in the silence of the space Shiro could hear the faint hum as it travelled back down.
"...I think you're probably right," Shiro said. He paused, then reached over to squeeze Allura's hand. "You holding up alright?"
"As well as can be expected," Allura replied, and a sad little smile crossed her face. "We had a very close call today, and I can't help but be relieved that it's over...and that all of us made it out safely."
"Agreed," Shiro said, then managed a chuckle. "...Y'know, I hate to say it, but I think Central Command was easier than that."
"What was easier than that?" Sendak asked from behind him, and Shiro jumped, turning towards the elevator. The Galra had just emerged from it, a tray with steaming cups in both hands and an additional blanket— a heavy, quilted-looking one— draped over one shoulder.
"Raiding Central Command to rescue me," Allura said, turning as well.
Sendak laughed, settling in on Shiro's other side and balancing the tray lightly on his knees. Shiro narrowly resisted the impulse to curl against him, to sink into the warmth of Sendak's body, instead straightening himself to accept a cup of tea, and leaning back so Sendak could pass one to Allura.
"Well, we did have the Blade of Marmora helping at Central Command," Sendak said, flicking an ear almost dismissively. "I doubt Thace was so free to operate this time. After all, with Prorok dead, Zarkon probably promoted him on the spot, and the High Commander has a lot less leeway to work with than their lieutenant. Too much risk of blowing his cover."
Shiro heaved a sigh, his heart sinking a little, then turned his gaze to the stars and took a sip of his tea to cover it. "...Guess we filled our end of the bargain with Ulaz," he said at last. "Black said I'd weakened her bond to Zarkon, and if she's right...I guess we're free to meet up with the Blade of Marmora."
"Suppose we'll have to test it first, then," Allura said.
Sendak's ears twitched. "...You spoke with the Lion?"
"Yeah," Shiro said, and took another sip of his tea. His right hand was steady, but the left had begun to tremble, and he took it off the mug and set it down in his lap to keep from spilling. "It's like— we know the bond with the Lion connects your mind to theirs, but...I don't know. I closed my eyes, and when I woke up I was somewhere else, and she showed me a couple memories from their past, and then...Zarkon showed up."
His right hand was beginning to shake as well. Shiro took a deep breath and set the mug down on the floor, then pulled one of the blankets up over his shoulders like a cocoon.
Then he made the mistake of looking up. Sendak and Allura wore matching expressions of concern, both of them staring at him with brows pinched, Sendak with his ears low. He lowered his gaze again, looking resolutely at the window. The starfield drifted past, luminous spots of light against absolute darkness.
"Shiro…" Allura said softly.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sendak asked. There was a faint clink ; he'd set his mug down.
"...What's there to say?" Shiro asked, his voice shaking despite himself, and he pulled the blanket closer. "He kicked my ass. I wasn't strong enough to fight him, I...he just swatted me around like I was nothing . He would have killed me if...if you hadn't stepped in when you did, Allura."
He glanced sideways at her, another mistake— Allura's eyes had filled with tears, and the lump in his throat swelled to choke him.
"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to reach you," Allura whispered. Her hands had tightened on the mug she still held, her knuckles whitening. "I'm sorry it took so long. That I let you get hurt."
Shiro shook his head. "No, no, don't apologize. Please," he managed. "You saved my life . You distracted him just long enough for Black and I to get away from him."
Allura's lower lip quivered. She set her mug down, hard, tea sloshing out over the side, and lunged . Her arms closed tightly around Shiro's shoulders, pulling him in close, and he buried his face in her shoulder. Her thick cloud of hair smelled of flowers, flooding his senses. More warmth pressed against his back— a second set of arms, closing around him and Allura both, and Sendak's soft cheek settled against the exposed nape of his neck. The Galra's chest rumbled with a purr that shook Shiro all the way down to his bones.
"I'm okay," Shiro whispered, his voice cracking as he said it.
"Shiro...you don't have to be," Sendak murmured behind him, his voice painfully gentle.
Shiro tensed, lifting his face from Allura's shoulder. She let him pull away, reaching up to wipe at her eyes as he turned to face Sendak. He could only meet Sendak's gaze for a moment before lowering his face again, shaking his head.
"We don't have time for me to—" he started.
Sendak held up a hand, cutting him off. "Shiro," he said, his tone firm. "If you can make time for me to mourn, we can make time for you. You nearly died today." He reached forward, cupping one of Shiro's cheeks, and Shiro sniffed and leaned his face into the touch. The rough pad of a thumb stroked his cheekbone, smearing dampness over the skin. "...Come here," Sendak said softly.
Shiro nodded despite himself, shifting towards the Galra. He hesitated— the bulk of one of Sendak's massive thighs rested between them— then scrambled up into his lap and tucked his face against Sendak's collarbone, burying his nose in the thick spill of lavender ruff tumbling over the collar of his shirt. Sendak's chin came to rest against the top of Shiro's head, his arms closing around Shiro again to hold him close, and then within the minute the purr started up. Shiro pressed his face closer, screwing his eyes shut even as his shoulders heaved.
"It's alright," Sendak murmured against the crown of his head. "Let it out. We're here. We have you."
The next breath Shiro took burst from him as a sob, and he clutched at Sendak, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. The embrace tightened, one massive hand smoothing up and down his back. His chest was tight, too tight to draw full breaths, and he gasped and sobbed again, trying to fit himself closer, even with no more space left to fit into. Warmth settled against his back again, Allura slotting her arms around him as well, and Shiro squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, shaking.
Eventually his sobs tapered off, leaving him dry-eyed but trembling against Sendak's chest. The Galra was still purring, but he lifted his head as Shiro pulled back to look up at him, his hands steady to support his back— even with Allura behind him, holding him firm. Sendak's expression was still unbearably gentle, but he smiled softly and cradled Shiro's cheek again, brushing away the lingering tears.
"Better?" he asked, head tilting.
"...Yeah," Shiro rasped, catching his breath at last. "Better. I...thanks, both of you."
"That's why we're here," Allura said quietly behind him, and Shiro turned to look at her. Her smile was a little brighter, and she brushed away the tracks of tears on the other cheek.
That drew a quiet chuckle from him, and he sagged back against Sendak, letting his bulk support him. Sendak didn't even seem to notice the added weight, but he leaned down to bump his forehead against Shiro's, earning a grin.
"What, are you two competing now?" he asked. "Seeing who can cheer me up the fastest?"
"I believe this is referred to as tag-teaming ," Sendak said dryly, and Shiro snorted.
"You need it," Allura said, nodding her agreement. She sighed, settling against him in turn, and reached for the tea mugs, handing Shiro his before picking up her own.
"What, not for me?" Sendak asked, jostling Shiro lightly as he reached for his abandoned mug.
"Of course not," Allura sniped back. "Expecting everyone to bend over for you again?"
"Quite literally, this time," Sendak deadpanned.
Shiro chuckled into his mug, taking a sip before he looked up at them again. "Don't make me have to separate you two," he said, and relished their grins.
"You won't," Allura said.
Sendak huffed. "He's already in the middle," he said. His free hand ruffled Shiro's hair, then carded gently through the longer top, combing out tangled strands. "Are we taking bets on if he falls asleep up here?"
"I'm not going to fall asleep," Shiro huffed.
"Twelve Valuvium ingots one of us carries him to bed," Allura said, grinning. Shiro, unable to help himself, squeaked indignantly and elbowed her in the ribs.
"You two are horrible," he said, grinning a little in turn. "I should never have let you go on that mission together. It made you both insufferable."
"Like we weren't beforehand ," Sendak said.
Allura laughed, but settled against Shiro's side again, pulling the blankets up over them. "We were, weren't we," she mused. "...I'll tell Coran tomorrow morning that we should lay low for a couple quintants. No combat, no inhabited stretches of space, just to give us some time to recuperate."
"Gods know we need it," Sendak said. One of his hands came to rest against Shiro's side, pulling him just a little closer, and Shiro did his best not to notice the span of his fingers covered him from hip to ribs.
"Where to after that?" Shiro asked. He let himself sink a little, taking another sip of his tea and closing his eyes again.
"I suppose we'll see if we can locate some teludav lenses, or the materials to make them," Allura said, sighing quietly.
"And after that…" Sendak started, then trailed off.
"Blade of Marmora, I guess," Shiro said.
The other two hummed in agreement, and he opened his eyes again, gazing out the window to the stars.