The scene is lit by a garish mix of standard purple, red combat strobes, and the blinding pink of a weaponized prosthetic, multiple shadows in different shades playing over blood pools and limp forms.

Shiro is grinning, sharp and cruel, his eyes glowing with blue quintessence as dark and cold as the ocean depths, and Keith is writhing under his hand, suit melting, flesh burning, tears streaking his cheeks as he gasps for air. The air fills with the smell of burning plastic and scorched flesh, and nausea curls in his gut.

His hands are shaking. He raises his bayard, but can't bring himself to fire. Not at Shiro.

The light changes suddenly, orange and crackling instead of purple and red. Shiro is standing over him, Keith lost to the shadows behind as he smirks down at him. He goes to lift his bayard again but it's gone, and pain lances through him at the movement, his hand slick with blood. The metal hand, no longer glowing, is curling into a fist, drawing back for a punishing blow. He's rooted to the spot by pain and fear, unable to do anything but stare up at the warped face of his friend and leader as his body seizes up in absolute terror. He's going to die. He's goingtodiehe'sgoingtodiehe'sgoingtodie-

Haggar's voice, cold and mocking as she laughs: "Finish him."

The fist flies toward him.

Lance surged upright, gasping for air and clutching at his chest with a shaking hand as his pounding heart felt like it was going to burst right out of his ribcage. Sweat slicked his forehead as he tried to suck in a breath, then another, fighting against lungs still locked up with panic. It took several more breaths before he felt like air was actually reaching his lungs, and even longer before he was able to bury his face in his knees, hugging them to his chest with trembling arms. Blue's soft purring reached him through the buzzing in his ears, calming him further, and he sent a tired wave of gratitude toward his Lion that prompted a warm surge of affection and protectiveness in response.

Lifting his head, he glanced toward the window and realized with a groan that it was still dark out. It couldn't have been more than a few hour since he, Pidge, and Hunk had made their way to the lounge and collapsed into sleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows. No wonder no one had woken up in response to his latest nightmare. Not that he could blame them. Yesterday had been long and exhausting for everyone, not just him.

Movement in the shadows of the room nearly made him jump out of his skin, setting his heart racing again before the figure came closer and he was able to recognize the scarred features of Alejandro, looking every bit as exhausted as he felt. Any other time Lance would have made some dramatic comment about scaring the life out of him, but right now all he could do was nod in greeting as his older counterpart crouched down beside him.

"I'm gonna go get some water." Barely above a whisper, Alejandro's voice was hoarse and scratchy. "Want to come with me?"

It took Lance a moment to figure out why the other looked so shaken before he remembered what Pidge had explained the night before. Mental link. Dream sharing. They'd both experienced that nightmare, a terrifying blend of Alejandro's years-old memories and Lance's newest trauma from just hours ago. Fresh anxiety churned in his gut, and he nodded. He needed something to drink, and the two of them needed to talk.

Struggling to his feet and gingerly testing his twisted ankle-sore, but not so bad he couldn't walk on it thanks to some Altean painkillers-he followed the other out into the hallway, heading for the kitchen in silence. The only sound in the dimly-lit corridors was the uneven padding of Lance's bare feet and the metallic clicking of Alejandro's prosthetics against the floor. How long had it taken to get used to that sound, he wondered? It must be a constant reminder of everything the older paladin had been through. Not to mention all the other scars the pair carried. Could Kurogane even hear with his scarred-over ear? Or was he just good at compensating?

Lost in thought, he almost bumped into the chair the other pulled out for him, reddening as he dropped into it. Alejandro chuckled as he grabbed a couple water packs from the fridge and passed him one before settling on the other side of the table and making a pleased humming noise as he took a long drink.

Lance followed suit and sighed in relief as the cool liquid soothed a throat that he hadn't realized was so dry it was almost painful. For a few minutes the crinkle of foil packs and the swallowing of water were the only sounds in the room. After a while, though, he set his pack down in front of him. "So...uh…" He fidgeted awkwardly, looking down at the table and picking at the bandages on his hand. How did you start a conversation about something like this? "We should, uh, probably talk?"

At least Alejandro seemed as uncomfortable as he did, playing with his straw and avoiding his gaze. "I...yeah." He sighed. "I guess I should start by apologizing. I didn't realize you were getting hit by my nightmares. Nobody needs to see that shit. I mean, the whole point of coming back here was so you wouldn't-"

"It's okay." Lance cut off the bitter rambling, his heart squeezing with sadness at the guilty look on the other's face. "It's not your fault. I mean, it's not like you knew this would happen or anything, and you can't exactly control it, either. So you don't need to apologize for that, okay?"

Alejandro stared at him for a moment before his shoulders slumped a bit and he nodded, a single, sharp jerk of a motion. "Right. Okay." He ran nervous fingers through his hair and took a long drink of water. "So. Mind link. That's...really something."

"Yeah. Hunk said you were able to get inside my head during the battle. See what was happening." Just thinking about it made him feel twisted up with discomfort. The thought of someone, even an older version of himself, being able to reach into his mind and see all his thoughts and fears and the insecurities he tried so hard to hide even from himself...it made him feel naked and exposed under the other's tired gaze, and he let go of his water pouch to wrap his arms around himself.

His posture must have given away his thoughts, though, because Alejandro sighed. "Lance, I know what you're-" Lance flinched, and Alejandro winced. "Sorry, that was a bad choice of words. Let me try that again. I can guess what you're thinking, because I remember the things that used to go through my head when I was younger. And you don't need to worry because I can't read your thoughts. Not now, and not earlier either."

Lance's head snapped up in shock. "But Hunk said-"

"I saw through your eyes, Lance, and heard through your ears. I wasn't reading your mind. I knew you were in pain because I could feel it, but I couldn't even tell exactly what was injured because you weren't looking at them." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The closest thing I got to an actual thought was knowing your bayard was missing, and I don't even know how I got that much. Honestly, I learned more about what you were thinking during that mess from the dream we shared tonight than I did from connecting to your mind during the fight."

"Oh." Cheeks warming, Lance uncurled. That made sense. The information he'd gotten from diving into his older self's memories had also been limited to sight and sound and touch aside from the unconscious knowledge of how long the fight had been going on. And doing that had taken deliberate effort on his part, so reaching his own mind had probably been just as difficult for the other. Plus, if one of them was reading the other's mind on an easy basis they definitely would have noticed by now. He scrubbed his hand over his face to hide his embarrassment. That dream had made him all worked up and paranoid. "That's...okay. So no mind reading. Good."

The older chuckled and took another drink. "Yeah. No offense, but I don't want you reading my thoughts any more than you want me reading yours. Some things are better kept private, right? The dreams are bad enough." He cracked a crooked smile and gave him a cheeky wink.

Lance choked at the oblique reminder, face burning scarlet. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Anyway! You looking forward to going home today?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

The smile was wiped away as quickly as it had appeared, the young man on the other side of the table falling silent and leaning back in his chair. He didn't answer, staring through the tabletop instead as his fingers tightened around his empty water pack. When Alejandro did speak, his voice was quiet. "I wasn't planning on going."

"What." No way he'd heard that right.

"I said," Alejandro lifted his head, gazing at him steadily. "I wasn't planning on going."

"Why the quiznack not?!" Lance demanded, aghast. Yeah, the time traveller thing was going to be hard to explain, and he really wasn't sure how his mom was going to react to it on top of everything else, but it wasn't going to be so bad that they should avoid the topic entirely. "They're your family!"

Alejandro huffed out a soft breath, a sad smile curling the corners of his lips. "No, Lance, they're yours. My family's been dead for almost four and a half years."

Oh.

That made...sense, in a painful sort of way. Alejandro had spent the last four years mourning his family, the ones who had died when the Weblum's Breath fired in the other, disastrous timeline. But if anyone deserved to come home, to see their family again, it was these two battered time-travellers. He couldn't do anything for Kurogane-the unexpected reunion with his mother the night before had been anything but happy and he wasn't sure it was his place to ask what had been talked about after Alejandro had left to go find his partner-but hell if he was going to let someone, especially not an older version of himself, be deprived of the chance to hug their mami again. He straightened, giving the other a determined scowl. "No offense, Alejandro, but that's-and our mother can never, ever know I was using this kind of language-bullshit."

"I-what?" Alejandro's eyebrows had shot up nearly to his hairline in shock.

"They're still your family, asere. Maybe they're not the same versions of them who died back in your time, but they're your family all the same. Veradero Beach is still your home. So what if it took you an extra seven years to get back? Mami will be happy to see you all the same. Just you wait. She's gonna hug us, cry, and then smack us both for making her worry. And at the end of the day she'll have nine kids instead of eight. End of story."

There was a stunned silence, Lance glaring fiercely at his battered, lonely future self. Alejandro was frozen in place. Then, abruptly, he swallowed hard, eyes sparkling wetly. "Are you sure?" His voice broke, and Lance realized with sudden, overwhelming certainty that there was more to it than had already been said. He knew what the other was about to say before he said it. "They're...I can't...I don't want to take your family from you, Lance."

"Our family, Alejandro." He offered the other a sad smile. "Mine and yours both. You can't take away what we already share."

Alejandro gave a wet-sounding laugh. "Kurogane's always said I'm too kind-hearted to be real. I don't know why I didn't see this coming." He rubbed at his eyes. "Fine. Okay. I'll come with you."

Lance snorted and relaxed. "Kurogane too. Mami will kill you if she finds out you found your 'one' and you didn't bring him home to meet the family." And it would raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about what was going on between Lance and Keith that he really didn't want to answer, but quiznack it, he could deal if it meant his two new older brothers got to have the homecoming they never got.

"Oh geez. He's gonna be terrified. But if it's between that or staying here and having to be around Kovirak..." He grimaced.

After a moment's hesitation, curiosity won out against Lance's better judgement. "He really hates her that much?" He asked, taking another drink of water.

Alejandro sighed, running a thumb up and down his straw. "Keith hasn't spent much time with the Blade yet at this point, has he?"

Frowning at the seeming non sequitur, Lance shook his head. "Not really, no. I mean, he likes to train with them when they're around, and I think he watches them to learn a bit more about how Galra act, but...I dunno. Does-did, sorry, did Kurogane spend a lot of time with them?"

"Yeah." The word was almost a sigh. "Training sessions, like you said, but over time we started coordinating more missions with them. Some of them were around pretty frequently. If the five of us plus Allura were brothers and sisters, and Coran was something like a stepdad, then some of the Blades were practically cousins, aunts, uncles, and in Kolivan's case a crotchety grandfather. To all of us, but especially to Keith. The Blades are family to each other, and when he awoke his he became one of them."

"So when they died he was losing family all over again." Lance felt sick at the thought. He knew Keith was an orphan. He'd already lost his family once. It had probably taken Shiro a long time to get younger teen to open up once they met, just like it had taken a long time for Keith to start letting his guard down around the rest of the team. Little by little Keith had been building himself a new family, letting himself get attached to people, and would have continued to do so...only to have nearly all of them ripped away from him. "No wonder he's so angry at her."

Alejandro hummed in agreement, taking a long drink. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Keith found his mom. I'm glad they're reunited. But even with the reasons she gave, I'm pissed. She hurt him, intentional or not."

"That's fair. Honestly, I'm a bit angry myself. Less than I was before she explained herself, since she was stuck between a rock and a hard place trying to protect her kid, but still. The Blades are our friends. Wasn't there any other options?"

"Exactly." He sighed. "Unfortunately it's not our place to tell her to go to hell. We should leave it up to the three of them to sort themselves out, at least until we can take her back to the Blade headquarters. She does need to answer to Kolivan for what she did."

Lance winced, imagining the grim-faced Marmora leader's anger over the betrayal. "Man, that almost makes me feel sorry for her." He yawned, jaw cracking. "Almost."

Alejandro chuckled. "We should try to get a little more sleep. God knows there won't be any opportunity to nap later. Knowing Mami she'll have the entire family there waiting for us when we land."

She would, at that. Every single aunt, uncle, and cousin crammed under the roof of Rosa and Alistair McClain-Martinez, just like they did at Christmas. Lance felt a warm happiness blooming in his chest just thinking about it. God, he'd missed them all so much. "I can't wait." He pushed himself to his feet with a soft smile on his face.

"Me either." Alejandro admitted, grabbing Lance's empty drink pack and chucking them both in the garbage disposal. "C'mon. Back to bed."

The walk back was made in comfortable silence, so unlike the uncomfortable tension when they'd gone the other way. They were almost back at the lounge, Pidge's soft snores just faintly audible, when Lance had an idea. He grabbed Alejandro's arm. "Wait here a minute, okay?" He dashed off as fast as his ankle would let him before the started man could reply.

His jacket was right where he had left it, hanging on the back of the door of his room from when he'd been hurrying to change into his armor before today's battle. Pulling it off the hook, though, he felt a momentary surge of reluctance. Alejandro-the original Alejandro, the one back on Earth who had inspired the nickname Lance had given his time-travelling counterpart and whose name he had, in the other timeline, chosen to represent the family he'd lost-had passed it on to him just before he left for the Garrison.

"Wear it to remind you that no matter what happens, Alonza, you are part of this family and we love you, okay?" He'd said, pressing the soft, well-worn material into Lance's hands. "From one brother to another."

All the more fitting, then, that it would now go to his brother's namesake. Clutching the jacket to his chest with renewed certainty, he limped back down the hall and pushed it into the time-travelling Alejandro's hands. "Here. I want you to have this."

His older counterpart stared in shock first at the jacket, then at Lance. "Lance, this is...I can't..."

"From one brother to another. You're part of this family." Lance smiled warmly at him. "And you always will be."

Alejandro fell silent, then clutched the jacket to his chest as he wiped at his eyes with one shaking hand. "Thank you..." His voice broke on the whisper.

Any regrets Lance might have had about giving up the jacket were washed away by that teary, broken smile, and the grin he gave in return was easy and honest. Alejandro may have lost his family once, but Lance would see to it that he got to use his second chance. "Anytime."

000000000

The Black Lion hung silently in the darkness, a vast hulking shadow blotting out the distant galaxies that made up the backdrop of the interstellar void. Only a small part of the front was dimly lit, paint reflecting the glow of the small, enclosed platform where a dozen tiny figures gathered around a single, central individual.

"I don't like this, Coran." Alfor's arms were folded, his brow furrowed in a deep frown as he watched the scene through the viewscreen of the small cargo ship that had brought them out here, hovering a safe distance back to avoid interference. "I still feel like we shouldn't have let her do this one."

Coran sighed, putting an hand on Alfor's arm. "I know, but she is the amvel nayeta, and she insisted that as she was the one to do the others, it had to be her. So did Acalli, for that matter, and you and I both know those two can't agree on anything."

"Still, I have a bad feeling-" Alfor huffed, but fell silent. It was starting. The figures on the platform had stretched their arms outwards, toward the vacuum of space on the other side of the thin transparent bubble that protected them. Quintessence, invisible to the naked eye but all too obviously present to the senses of the Alteans, began to gather in thick ribbons around the platform. Pure raw black quintessence, drawn from the void itself out here where space was at its emptiest.

The sheer quantity being collected was incredible, more than Coran had ever observed in one place. Even the massive Yellow Lion had required less than this when the same ritual had been conducted nearly a month earlier on the rocky, barren surface of Kalshevar VI.

The central figure now raised its arms, drawing the ribbons of energy together above the platform. Then the quintessence shot forward, wrapping around the Black Lion in myriad threads, braiding and twisting and slipping under the metal hull of the great machine. It took long doboshes for it all to be absorbed, the single individual at the centre of the platform guiding it deep into the Lion's core. As the thick ribbons were used up, the outer participants dropped their arms one at a time.

The last thread vanished. Aquamarine lights flickered into being. Great golden eyes flashed to life. And the Black Lion threw back her head and roared.

"She did it." Coran murmured, awestruck by the sheer power that he knew would have been required to control so much quintessence. "She-no!" His eyes widened in horror as he saw the central figure crumple to the ground, the others clustering around in obvious dismay.

"Linnata!" Alfor was already moving, sprinting toward the control console of the ship, kicking the engines into high gear to move them toward the platform, and Coran was headed for the cargo bay to bring them aboard as fast as possible-

Coran slammed a hand down on the stop button on the console, emotions too thick in his throat for speaking. The memory playback vanished and he leaned on the console for support, eyes screwed shut as he tried to get the shaking of his hands under control. That had been one of the most terrifying days of his life, and it was no easier to relive now, even knowing that Linnata had survived the incredible strain crafting the Black Lion's core had placed on her.

He still remembered how utterly, terrifyingly fragile she had felt in his arms during the frantic, mercifully short flight back to Altea, the long, achingly slow recovery during which she had been so weak and tired. The way she had never truly returned to her former strength after the effort involved in breathing life into the Lions and linking them together.

If he had known before the project was begun what he knew now…

Coran shook his head wearily. As powerful as the Lions were, he doubted a leap of ten thousand cycles and change was within even their abilities with the metaphysical aspects. And even if it was, he could never ask something like that of Lance or Alejandro. Best not to dwell on what could never be altered. There was work to be done.

Storing the half-watched memory-the paladins might be interested in witnessing the birth of the Lions, even if he could not bear to watch it himself-he took a deep breath to steady himself and cleared his throat. "Computer, next memory, please."

The metal walls of the holoprojection room blurred and shifted, replaced with projections of ones enclosing a much larger space. A hangar, standing cavernous and empty save for the Yellow Lion and two small figures. Coran and Alfor, again, older and wearier with eyes red from grief.

"You want me to go where?!" Coran demanded in disbelief. Had his husband gone mad?

"Arus." Alfor repeated, tone heavy. "You're going to take the Castle, with Allura and the Black Lion aboard, to Arus."

"Arus. Where we'll be completely unprotected. What am I supposed to do if the Galran forces find us there? The particle barrier won't stand up to a bombardment!"

"They won't find you there." The Altean king sounded surprisingly certain of that fact. "And either way, you'll be in cryosleep."

Coran wasn't reassured, despite the other's confidence. "Cryosleep? Why? For how long?"

"I can't tell you that. I'll program it before you leave."

"You can't tell me much about this scheme of yours, can you?" The frustration in the advisor's tone was obvious. After the constant chaos and terror of the last few decarotations, the added uncertainty was more than he could take.

"Coran…" Alfor sighed wearily, rubbing at his eyes. In that moment, he seemed to have aged decacycles, shoulders sagging under the weight of recent tragedy. "Please, love. Believe me when I say I wish I didn't have to ask this of you. That I wish we could take our daughter and flee, find some hidden corner of the universe where Zarkon will never find us and live out our days in peace. But I cannot. I have a duty as a king and a paladin to protect. I swear, Coran, if I could tell you the details of the plan I would in an instant but..."

A moment's hesitation, then: "Alright."

Alfor faltered, thrown by the unexpected acquiescence as he stared at his husband in shock. "Alright?"

A lopsided half-smile spread across Coran's face and he stepped forward to wrap his arms around the other man's neck. They'd lost too much already for him to want this conflict to drag on. "If you can't tell me, you can't tell me. But I trust you, just as I always have. I'll take the Castle to Arus and then activate the cryosleep program.

The king's eyes shone with unshed tears as he hugged the other tightly, burying his face in his shoulder. "Thank you, my love. Thank you."

The memory segment ended, leaving Coran standing in the holoprojection chamber once more with his own eyes gleaming and wet trails down his cheeks. Had Alfor known what would happen when he asked that of Coran? That his remaining partner and only child would be cast ten thousand cycles into the future, their home gone and the universe dominated by a Zarkon gone mad with power? He surely couldn't have expected it would be that long before one of the other Lions returned and deactivated the cryosleep program.

"Computer, store segment. Deactivate program Coran Review 1. Deactivate chamber." He choked out, pressing the heel of his hand over his eyes in an attempt to stem the flow of tears. He couldn't relive anymore of his past tonight, not with those two scenes so fresh in his mind and the memory of his partners so heavy in his heart. Alfor. Linnata. Stars, he missed them so much. All the cycles since Linnata's death had done nothing to lessen the deep ache, the hole in his heart left by her absence, and Alfor's loss was still a fresh wound, burning now from the memory of one of their last conversations. The last thing his husband had ever asked of him. For him to take Allura and Black to Arus and keep them safe. He had done that, yes, but he hadn't expected the price would be so steep.

He stood by the console for a long time, body sagging with weary loneliness until his tears ran dry and his breathing stopped shuddering in his chest. As agonizing as the loss was, he had to keep moving forward. Had to keep fighting, keep doing everything he could to bring down someone his husband had once considered a friend and who had repaid that friendship in blood and destruction and death.

There was still work to be done, memories to be searched for information that might be the key to toppling a trio of tyrants, two of whom had once been allies. As much as it hurt seeing the faces of those he'd lost, it had to happen. Later today, maybe, with the Humans busy with their families and the Icebringers occupied by repairs. Allura could monitor the healing pods for a few hours. But not right now. Not after that.

The doors of the chamber whirred shut behind him as he slipped out into the hallway, where dim strips of aqua along the edges of the floor guided his steps, the main lights darkened for the ship's night cycle. It seemed it was later than he'd realized-likely the rest of the Castle's inhabitants and visitors were sound asleep in in their beds. All the better, since it meant there was no one to see him with red eyes and still-damp cheeks. He'd take some time to go and run one last check of the Castle's systems before bed to make sure no damage from the battle was late in making itself known and to try to settle his emotions enough to sleep.

To his surprise, however, low-level lighting spilled out through the open door of the bridge. Someone was already there. Stepping up to the threshold and peering around the edge of the frame, Coran's breath caught in his throat. Allura stood by the front window, gazing out over the dark desert. Soft blue lights cast a gentle glow over face and threw darker indigo shadows over her hair that for a moment turned her into the spitting image of her long-dead mother.

His involuntary inhalation must have carried, because she turned suddenly, eyes flashing and body tensing for a fight, and the spell was abruptly broken. Once she caught sight of him she subsided with a sigh and turned back to the window. "Coran. You startled me."

"My apologies. I wasn't expecting anyone to be awake right now." Discreetly drying his cheeks on his sleeve and trusting the darkness to hide the redness of his eyes, he moved across the deck to stand beside her, looking out over the dark sand and rock, shadowy spires against the broad, starry expanse of the sky. "Trouble sleeping?"

Allura bit her lip, then exhaled and nodded. "A bit. Just...a lot on my mind, I suppose."

"Care to talk about it, Princess?" He asked, weighting the word, as much a fond endearment as a formal title, with as much affection and concern as he could muster. It was easier to push his own sadness aside, knowing that his daughter needed his support right now. "You know I'm always here for you."

"I know." She gave him a small smile in return. In the distance a pair of small lights from some sort of vehicle cut the darkness and they both watched in silence as the car drove down the highway past the Garrison buildings before turning off at the fenceline where more pinpricks of light marked the campfires and lanterns of the Humans who had come to stare at the alien spaceships. "I was just thinking that they have no idea what they're getting into." Allura's voice was sad and worried, with just a trace of bitterness.

Coran tilted his head in agreement. "The Humans, you mean. Is this about what Ryou said earlier?"

Allura nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. " , they're downright primitive. The mission where Shiro and Matthew and Commander Holt were discovered and captured was their species' very first manned attempt to even reach the edge of their home system. Their habitats on the surface of the moon are still scientific ventures rather than true colonies. They have yet to even conceive of technology that was considered backwards and archaic ten thousand cycles ago. And yet…" Her gaze was distant. "And yet they pledged themselves to the cause without hesitation. They dedicated themselves unflinchingly to joining the fight, trusting us to lead them." She bit her lip. When she spoke again it was an anxious whisper. "They trust me to lead them."

"Oh Allura, little juniberry flower…" Coran breathed, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. She folded into the embrace without hesitation, trembling hands fisting in the front of his shirt. How long had these insecurities been plaguing her, buried and pushed aside for the sake of a brave face except for private moments like these? Stars, she was so young, too young to bear the weight of so much loss and so many looking to her for guidance and leadership in a vast, deadly war. Guilt sat heavy in his chest that he hadn't noticed her fears sooner under her seemingly-irrepressible confidence, and for the fact that there was so little he could do to ease her burden.

"I don't know if I can, Coran." Allura whispered into his chest. "I don't know how to lead, not really. I still had so much to learn before Alfor would have considered me ready for even a fraction of the things I've done. I've been making it up as I go along. We've been lucky so far, but if I make even one mistake…" She shuddered. "I'm not father, Coran. I don't know what I'm doing."

He was not the only one with memories of their family weighing heavy on their mind tonight. "Princess. Sweetheart. Look at me." Coran took her gently by the shoulders, holding her away from him a little so he could look her in the face. She sniffed and wiped her eyes hastily before looking at him expectantly. "No. You're not Alfor. And no one is expecting you to be him. Alright?"

"But the war-"

"Is not the same as it was when your father struggled to protect Altea from Galran forces. In fact, there's never been a war on this scale in all the recorded history I ever heard. Alfor may have had more experience in diplomacy and tactics, but I can say without a doubt that he would have been every bit as out of his depth as you are."

He regarded her steadily by the dim light of the stars. Despite the shine of her eyes and the way she was biting her lip to keep it from quivering, Allura was still trying so hard to be strong. She was a blending of the best of both her other parents, both in appearance and in body and mind-Alfor's determination and willingness to sacrifice for the sake of others, Linnata's quiet strength and sly humor. But she was also very much her own person, fiercer and more self-reliant than either of them had ever been, and for her to be so vulnerable right now was a rarity in itself and spoke volumes of the strain she was under. "Allura," he said quietly, "as one of your fathers and as your advisor, believe me when I say you are doing the best that anyone could possibly expect of you. You aren't trying to do everything yourself. You're letting yourself rely on the strengths and knowledge of others. And you're learning and adapting as you go, getting stronger each time. I know it's not easy. Leading never is, even when you're not in the middle of a war. But Alfor and Linnata would be proud of you, little flower, just as I am. You're doing just fine."

Allura stared at him for a moment, blinking rapidly. Then her breath hitched into a sob and she flung herself into his arms once more, clinging to him as she cried. "Oh, Papa, I miss them so much…" She choked out.

"I know, Allura. I know. I miss them too." Coran wrapped his arms around her and held her close, murmuring soft reassurance into her hair through a throat thick with his own returning tears. His husband and wife may be gone, but his daughter at least was still with him, still safe. She may have been trying to bear a unimaginable burden of leadership for which she was largely unprepared, but he would help her carry the weight as much as he was able. The paladins would too, the way they did for each other if she only gave them the chance. This had been a long time coming, he thought. He would have to talk to her later about allowing herself to hurt, to express her emotions and rely on others for reassurance as well, the way the paladins did. Stars knew she needed that support in these difficult times. For now, though, this release would have to be enough.