A/N: So I've been without internet for about a week now, and I'm miserable! I used the time to write a monster chapter, and since I'm borrowing an internet connection to upload this, I'm giving it to you guys as one giant chapter instead of two normal sized ones. Fingers crossed the internet is restored this coming week. Curse that hurricane.

I hope you enjoy it, and I really hope you review!

Allura walked into the dining hall trailed by a Galaxy Alliance emissary, dictating terms on Arus' position on Wade's incarceration. It wasn't until she'd taken her seat at the head of the table and tried to shift her chair forward, only to freeze with a wince, that Keith leapt to his feet.

"Let me help you," he murmured, pushing her chair in gently. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm fine, Keith," she protested, accepting the pen from the emissary and scrawling her signature across the bottom of the document he held with a flourish. "I saw Doctor Gorma, and he said it's just a strained muscle. I'll be sore for a few days, but there's no real harm done."

"Not for lack of trying," Keith mumbled as he retook his seat.

That was enough to send Lance, seated on Allura's left and directly across from Keith, heaving to his feet, white-knuckled fists propped on the table. He'd been touchy all day, snapping at everyone from the cadets to the Arusian Defense Force soldier that had asked him to sign an acquisition form for more fuel. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Picking up his fork, Keith stared up at Lance evenly. "Exactly what it sounded like. You pushed the princess too far this morning, and she got hurt. Just like I warned." If there was one thing guaranteed to infuriate Keith, it was any threat to Allura. His blue eyes narrowed. "Maybe Wade's not the only one she needs protecting from."

Oh, that was it. He'd had enough of Keith and his snide little insinuations, the barbed remarks that got a little more pointed each day. "And maybe I've had enough of you, Commander," Lance sneered. "Maybe you should just mind your own dam-"

Oh geez. Here they went again. A guy couldn't even eat his dinner anymore in peace. Hunk cleared his throat. "Turkey's great, Allura," he said loudly, drowning out Lance's angry retort. "Really awesome. You should try some."

"Yeah," Pidge jumped in quickly, eyes ping-ponging back and forth between Keith and Lance. "Cook did a great job on dinner tonight. I was thinking, if it's okay with you, that I'd help the cadets work on their programming skills after dinner. I'll need to take over the classroom, of course. That's okay, right?" Plus, the time with the cadets would have the added bonus of not having to listen to Keith and Lance continue their seemingly endless war of words. It was really starting to get on his nerves, and he knew Hunk felt the same way.

Sharing a quick look of understanding, Vince and Daniel began nodding vigorously. "That'd be great. We could definitely use the practice, maybe on the video game," Vince blurted. "Or the subsystem. Ooh! How about the internal configurations of the Lions? That'd be awesome!"

Larmina watched the antics unfolding and shook her head in amazement, not bothering to say anything at all. Instead, she speared another bite of asparagus. Why everyone else kept trying to stop Keith and Lance was beyond her. She figured it was pretty much inevitable at this point. Keith wanted his old status back, even expected it. Lance had taken over that position and didn't want to give it back. "Honestly, it'd be better if they just beat the crap outta each other and get it over with," she muttered to herself as the table was reduced to a cacophony of dueling voices. "It'd be so much easier and quicker than all this macho posturing crap."

"Hey!" The silence that fell immediately was thick and fraught with the electric potential of an oncoming storm. Lance banged a fist on the table, still leaning over far enough that his jacket was in danger of sweeping the food from his plate. "I did not put Allura in danger, Keith," he bit out, a muscle in his jaw jumping erratically. "Just because you always want to wrap her up in fluffy clouds and keep her safe doesn't mean she's not capable of training like the rest of us. Larmina was pushing more weight than that, for gods' sake. Training accidents happen, and strained muscles are nothing new to any of us. It was an appropriate weight level for her."

"I think I know what I'm talking about," Keith replied calmly in the face of Lance's wrath. "It's my job to know my pilots' limits." Glancing out of the corner of his eye at Allura, Keith reminded himself to remain cool and collected. It would do nobody any favors if he rose to Lance's baiting.

Lance snorted. Oh, that was rich. "Really? Because I think while you were off playing rebel hero and hanging out on beach resort worlds with smugglers, I was bouncing between Galaxy Garrison and here twice a week every week for seven years, Keith. How's that stack up to your outdated knowledge of Allura's limits?" What an ass, he thought uncharitably. The depths of Keith's arrogance when it came to him knowing better than Lance, who'd been pulling both his and Keith's duties for seven flipping years, was unbelievable.

The growling of Allura's stomach reminded her that she was starving, had missed almost half of dinner, and had still yet to even pick up her fork. She stood and pressed Lance back into his seat with a gentle but firm hand. "I said I was fine. It's a strained hamstring, guys. There's nothing to argue about. Now if you don't mind, I'd really like to try the turkey Hunk said was so delicious."

Both men ignored her, continuing to stare one another down from their seats. "First of all, I was not 'hanging out' on beach resort planets- I was making contacts and following leads, trying to get Black Lion back for all of us, and I'm tired of telling you that." It was impossible talking to Lance sometimes. Once he got something in his head, trying to change his mind was about as easy as swinging a sword without hands. "Look, you push. I get it- you always have. But just because you've got to press limits doesn't mean you need to goad Allura or anyone else into it, too. When you're constantly pushing, Lance, you'll frequently fail. Sometimes it's more prudent to build slowly, take your time. We're just reinstituting physical training. There was no need to bump anyone's weights yet." The constant strain of trying to nicely reclaim his command was wearing on him. Maybe it was just time to give it to Lance straight. He'd always done better when things were laid out clearly for him in black and white terms. Holding Lance's gaze, he added, "And if you were half the leader you think you are, you would have realized that."

The poor emissary, who'd been frozen in place at Allura's shoulder, quickly found his senses and made his bows to Allura, backing away from the table and making a beeline for the door.

"I hope you're both happy now," Allura snapped, following the man from the room with her eyes. "Now our business is going to be discussed with every Alliance lackey that man comes across." She stabbed into her meat with a vengeance. "The two of you need to stop. Keith, I'm fine. Lance was not pushing me too hard, and I'm an adult and perfectly capable of making my own decisions and telling him 'no' if I need to. Lance, stop being so sensitive. Keith was expressing his opinion, and he's entitled to his as much as you are to yours. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to eat my dinner in peace." A bite of turkey poised on her fork, she shot each of them a challenging look. "Unless either of you has anything important to say. No? Good."

The two glared at one another across the table, a shared look that said this would be revisited later, in private.

Allura followed Keith's rigid shoulders through the doorway to the lounge and waited with a pointed expression until the others got the idea. Pidge quickly made his excuses and dragged the cadets out with him and Hunk, who'd flopped on the couch, took only a minute to gather up an armful of magazines and follow suit, muttering something about wanting to hit the rack early. She turned back to Keith. "I'd like to talk to you, please."

Shrugging eloquently, Keith gestured for her to take a seat before he lowered himself on the couch next to her. "Look, Allura, I know what you're going to say. I was out of line at dinner. I'm sorry."

"I know things have been… difficult for you since you came back, Keith," she began tentatively. "I know a lot changed while you were gone, and it must be hard to do what you did for so long and come back expecting to be welcomed with waiting arms." She raised a hand when he opened his mouth. "Please, Keith, let me finish. We need you. You know that, and I know you've been working very hard to reestablish your relationship with everyone. I think you've been doing a wonderful job." Fidgeting with her voltcom, Allura looked down. "But things were very hard for the guys under Wade. Lance especially. He was forced to do a lot of things he didn't want to do, all while shielding Pidge and Hunk and coming home to help me, in addition to running the entire Flight Academy. He had a lot of responsibility, and suddenly being thrust back into the role of second chair is a very hard thing to swallow." Her lips quirked. "Especially for someone with an ego as large as Lance's."

Now he even had to listen to Allura defending Lance? Unbelievable, Keith thought sourly. "We discussed all of this between the two of us before I left, Allura. I told Lance exactly what he would be up against, and he knew that anything that happened while I was gone would have no bearing on our team once I returned." He consciously forced his clenched hands to relax. "He can't have things his way now just because he likes how things were while I was gone."

Leaning in to him, Allura laid a consoling hand on Keith's arm. "It wasn't just a two week jaunt, Keith. You were gone for seven years, with only encrypted messages and requests for money to let us all know you were still alive and on-mission. From Lance's perspective, he's been in charge longer than you were. It's going to take some time for him to re-acclimate himself."

"Screw Lance!" Keith suddenly burst out, rocketing to his feet as an astonished-looking Allura leaned back. "I am so tired of everything being about Lance! I have tried and tried and tried again to reestablish team rapport, but Lance just has to keep opening his big mouth and ruining everything."

Carefully standing, Allura closed the gap between them, laying her hands on his chest. "You are doing a good job, Keith, even if it's hard for you to see it right now. And the team needs you. I think you're underestimating your value- your contacts and experience are what helped you guys defeat Wade on Earth. Even if I disagreed with that mission and the reasons for it, I'm big enough to admit that we all are safer for Wade being removed from power. But Lotor and his mad scientist are still out there, and we both know that things are still very, very dangerous right now. If ever there was a time for in-fighting, this would not be it."

The unique scent of Allura, a flowery perfume that he'd never smelled on another woman in all his travels, teased Keith's nose. Gently clasping her hands where they rested on his chest, he closed his eyes briefly and breathed in. This was something else he'd missed. Desperately. The feel of Allura touching him, the look in her eyes as she spoke to him- he'd never taken it for granted, but it was something he'd come to expect back before Wade had sabotaged the Lions. He'd always known how she felt, because he felt the same. "Allura," Keith said softly, his hands tightening as he fought the impulse to lean down that small distance and press a kiss to those soft lips. Hardening his resolve, slamming those impulses away behind an iron will, Keith dropped her hands. "I'm trying my best. But somebody needs to talk to Lance about dialing the attitude back a few notches, and that somebody's probably you." It pained him to admit to the next part, but Keith bit out the words anyway. "You're really the only one he listens to."

Allura swallowed hard past the sudden, painful lump in her chest. No one, and she meant no one, had missed Keith more than she had. There had been many a night she'd gone to sleep in tears, and many more she'd lain awake worrying about his safety, and whether he still cared for her, and whether things would change when he came home- because she'd never allowed herself to think that he wouldn't return. Keith simply didn't fail, and he wouldn't fail her in this. And yet from the very first day he'd come back, he'd been brushing off her gestures, pretending he didn't understand the welcoming hugs and gentle smiles she constantly bestowed on him. It was finally starting to creep into her mind like an insidious poison that maybe his feelings had changed. "I'll speak with him," she choked out, trying to suppress the tears that wanted to spring to her eyes.

Stepping back, Keith nodded and pretended not to see the well of pain in her green-grass eyes. It was better this way, he told himself firmly. Nothing had changed, at least not where Allura was concerned, except that it was harder now to force himself to look away, to let go. "Okay. I'll let you talk to him before he and I have a private discussion."

"Keith-" Allura pleaded, a hand raised in supplication. "Please. Just give it time."

He shook his head. "No, Allura. He and I are going to talk, and it's going to be soon. Because as much as his ego is driving me nuts right now, it's his willingness to constantly endanger you that we need to talk about. You're a princess. He needs to stop trying to turn you into a soldier."

Oh, now that got Allura's back up. "So is Larmina," she pointed out regally. "I don't see you getting indignant on her behalf, Keith." Sniffing, Allura took her own step back. "As much as you want things to go back to the way they were, I need you to understand something. I'm not a girl anymore, something to be protected, Keith. I am the de facto ruler of an entire planet, a respected head of state, and a fine pilot in my own right. I think I'm capable of taking care of a little pulled muscle."

The urge to smile was overwhelming. "I know, Allura," he replied with a grin. "You're the strongest woman I know. But it's my job to protect you and all of my pilots. And that includes keeping you healthy and on my active roster. So we'll be having that chat soon, because I can't lose you." He cleared his throat sharply when her eyes widened. "As a pilot. I can't lose you as a pilot."

Allura smiled softly as she left the lounge, ignoring the silly urge to start humming.

The argument at dinner had sapped the last of Lance's desire to be around the team that day, and instead of heading for the lounge with the rest of the group, he veered off at the central corridor. He needed time alone to get his temper back in check, because if Keith sent him one more superior, judging look, he was going to lose it. Big time.

Aimless wandering of the corridors had never really been his thing until he'd taken over the Flight Academy, and then the habit had been born of necessity. It had felt like people were constantly hunting him down twenty-four hours a day for stupid, pointless crap. Can so-and-so do this? Has Cadet XYZ taken Test 123? Are the sims on Deck 712 operational yet? Why not? Did you contact Maintenance? When's the last time Ship ABC had its weapons systems field stripped? Instructor Blah Blah is pregnant and needs to go on maternity leave. Are the budgets submitted yet? It never ended. Three in the morning? Banging on his door. Middle of breakfast? Pulling him out of the chow line. In a meeting with Wade and the other big brass? Paged down to the flight deck. His precious free hour before dinner? Hounded relentlessly.

Lance had learned to cope by just taking his damned communicator off and leaving it on his assistant's desk and going for a very, very long walk. He never had a plan, because plans led to regularity, and regularity led to predictability. Instead, he drifted from floor to floor and fielded a few random questions about Voltron, and his flight rating when he was in the Academy, and how to help some cadet up his accuracy levels. Nothing big, nothing hard, just a few words and then he could amble on.

It was a hard habit to break, too. When he'd accepted Wade's offer to head up the Flight Academy, Lance had asked that he be allowed four weekend furloughs a month and four floating twenty-four hour leave of absences. Surprisingly, the suspicious old windbag had laughed and agreed. 'Off to Arus for some tail, are we? Must be good, if you need to be there that frequently.'

Lance had grinned, figuring Wade could think whatever the hell he wanted so long as he granted the terms. And when he'd gotten to Arus that first time, he'd been true to his word, stopping in to visit an old friend for some fun in Altair before heading back to the castle for dinner and to spend time with Allura. He'd never dreamed she would be such a wreck about Keith and the Lions and everything, and it had taken hours of talking and joking and hand-holding before she'd been even marginally calm. When he'd finally gotten her quieted down and packed off to bed, he'd settled himself in his old bedroom only to discover that he couldn't lie still on the mattress, the room too silent, too empty. Hours of thrashing about and wishing he could just fall asleep had finally prompted him to get up and roam around.

Ever since, when he was too worked up to sleep, he'd wander the castle until his brain slowed down and his legs got heavy. If he was close to his room, he'd go there, but Coran or Nanny or Allura had found him on more than one occasion sprawled out in a chair in the control room, or on the lounge couch, or once, very memorably, snoring in the seat of a castle defense laser unit. The memory made him smile- Nanny had had a fit on that one, yapping on and on about him accidently firing off a shot and hitting an innocent villager. He'd bit his tongue and taken the scolding instead of explaining that the units all had to be optically unlocked and manually activated before they could fire.

It was some time before Lance found himself near the control room, and he figured he should at least take a quick look inside to see if whoever had the night watch needed anything. To his surprise, Coran was seated before the central comms desk, industriously taking notes on the giant sheaf of papers he was reading. Shrugging, Lance headed in. "You know, Coran, if Nanny was still here at the Castle, she'd bust your ass but good for reading in such crappy light."

Without looking up, Coran smiled. "Yes, I believe she would. Of course, when you live with a woman like Nanny for as many years as I did, you become somewhat inured to the criticism."

Lance laughed. "All the shitty parts of a marriage without any of the benefits, right?" When Coran's pen froze and his ears reddened, Lance almost fell down in his shock. "You didn't," he gasped, clutching his stomach. Oh, sweet spirits, he was never going to let Coran live this down. "With Nanny?"

"We were both single, and it was at a time when a little physical comfort was needed for the both of us," Coran defended, setting his papers down to frown over his shoulder at the hysterically laughing pilot. "And I certainly don't think you have any room to be questioning others' morals, Commander. I seem to recall more than a few nights when you stumbled back into the castle quite late. Or early, as it was."

Flinging up his hands, Lance laughed harder. "Hey, you'll get no grief from me, Coran. But Nanny? Even after all the yelling and haranguing and lecturing she dished out to you over the years?" He waved Coran off, still snuffling back the occasional burst of laughter. "No, you're right. To each their own. Sorry." Boy, Nanny was a champion at nagging and sermonizing, Lance thought. She had Keith beat by a mile. The smile faded, and Lance folded himself into a chair at the comms desk with a heavy sigh. "Coran, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," the ambassador replied as he shuffled through the papers in his hands and began to take notes again.

"Back when you were part of the Voltron Force, was there ever any… dissention?"

Coran looked up, his work momentarily forgotten. "I was never truly a part of Voltron, Lance. Much like the cadets today, I was apprenticing under King Alfor's leadership, and only for a very brief time before the incident with Haggar."

Lance nodded slowly. "Okay, never knew that, but still- Did any of you ever get into it? I mean really into it? Not the petty little squabbles any team goes through. Big, fat, nobody-wins fights."

An alert beeped from the central mainframe, and Coran paused to ascertain the incoming message wasn't urgent. "No," he said finally. "Nothing serious, and nothing approaching the level of discord between you and Keith lately."

Ducking his head, Lance picked at a ragged fingernail. "Keith's really the only commander I've ever had," he sighed. "At least, the only one I ever thought of as a commander in my head. And he's a good one. Was a good one," he amended absently, still worrying the jagged edge of the nail. "He's my friend, one of my oldest, closest friends, and all I want to do lately is punch him in the face every time he opens his mouth. He thinks he can just roll back in after seven years and have everything be exactly the same. It's not, though."

The smile that tilted Coran's mouth was pensive. "You mean you're not the same? I would agree that you have matured tremendously, Lance. You have had to shoulder an enormous load with your duties in the Alliance and leading the team in their efforts to create an underground network. I can't imagine how much more pressure you must have felt coming home to Arus as frequently as you did." A snort of laughter escaped him. "The spirits know most men would have found an excuse to stay away in those early years."

That earned Coran a laugh from Lance. "Yeah, Larmina was a little pain in the a- butt," he amended quickly. "But she was just a kid, Coran. None of what happened to her was her fault. Besides, sometimes it was fun. Plus, I got to leave. You and Allura had to deal with everything day in, day out."

"Those were trying times." Shaking his head, Coran stroked a finger thoughtfully along his mustache. "But while Larmina was a handful, I was referring to the princess', er, difficulties accepting the plan in the beginning."

Boy, was that the understatement of the century, Lance thought wryly. Allura had been a complete mess after the Lions had gone 'rogue' and Wade appropriated them. The thought that the galaxy believed Voltron to be dangerous, coupled with the plan to disband the team and Keith's decision to go after Black Lion alone had left Allura an emotional wreck. "Yeah, she was kind of weepy for awhile there, wasn't she?"

Coran sighed. "I think you understand how hard for her it all was. And regardless of how much we cared for her, Nanny and I were never her confidants by then. It means a great deal to me, and to the princess, Lance, that you made yourself available to her without fail. I know she felt like everyone was abandoning her by that point. Having you come home like clockwork helped to keep her faith in the team's plan alive."

Those first few weeks had sucked- hard. The plan had been for Keith and Pidge to be the good soldiers and fall back under Wade's regime, and Lance and Hunk to go the outlaw route to find and free Black Lion. But the reality was Keith was a shitty liar, and there was no way a guy like Wade would buy it without a very convincing show. Bottom line? Lance was the better liar, and so he got the honor of kowtowing to that smug old windbag for years, while Keith got to jet around the galaxy free as a bird. "It was a good break for me, too," Lance admitted. "I spent every waking moment at Galaxy Garrison testifying and debriefing and being interrogated and tested and poked and prodded. I had to lie creatively, and consistently, from the moment they woke me to the second I passed out at night. By the time Wade believed me and offered me the Flight Academy, all I wanted was to get away. Coming back to Arus gave me that time, Coran. I didn't do it all for Allura." At least at first, Lance thought. When he'd come home that first time and seen the state she was in, he resolved to be there as much as he could get away with.

The older man nodded thoughtfully. "And to bring the discussion back around to your initial question, you feel like you bore the vast majority of the responsibility of leadership in Keith's absence, and his return with the assumption that things would return to how they had been is straining your relationship."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you could say that," he replied dryly.

"I've never experienced that particular conflict myself," Coran admitted, sitting back. It seemed Lance was here for advice, and that was something that he was good at. But it took time, and these chairs weren't the most comfortable in the castle on his old bones. "But I can tell you about the time I watched my king and the pilot of the Red Lion get into so heated an argument that King Alfor threatened to kick them off the team entirely."

"When you flew with Alfor all those years ago, when Haggar shattered Voltron into the five Lions, what exactly happened?" Lance interrupted. "I mean, to all of you. Those fluffy prophecies and 'historical' accounts are more vague about the details than a politician caught with his pants down."

With a weak smile Coran teased, "Still finding Senator Chiu's predicament amusing, I see." Tension suddenly began to pull at the muscles in his shoulders, and Coran took a deep, deliberate breath to relax himself. "It's not something I like to talk about," he said quietly. "It was a difficult time, made more so by the loss of my fellow pilots and my king."

"Please, Coran," Lance replied softly, staring down at his clenched hands. "I think if I could figure out how King Alfor's team did it, I could figure out how to fix things between me and Keith."

It was impossible to decline a request like that, and Coran took a fortifying breath. "When the witch Haggar tricked us, we realized it almost immediately. I had only taken a position in the Blue Lion a few days prior, observing, not actually manning the controls. The others had been flying the Lions for much longer, and Zarkon had begun increasing the frequency and intensity of his attacks. We lost many people, even entire villages. King Alfor had held a meeting of the pilots, and the Red Lion's pilot had had enough."

Lance felt a surge of pride. Good- he was glad it was Red's pilot who understood that constantly playing defense meant you were always vulnerable, always in the position of having to react instead of act. "He told the king off and demanded they go after Zarkon, huh?"

Coran waved a hand. "Not exactly- but they made an excellent case for heading out and preemptively acting, a plan King Alfor overruled based on the defensive nature of Voltron's mission. His argument was predicated on the theory that if they acted now without direct provocation, there was nothing to stop them or future teams from acting as they saw fit, and Voltron was never meant to become a vigilante.

The Red Lion's pilot was incensed, and the two argued incessantly for days. Things were incredibly tense. At one point, I thought they might actually come to physical blows."

"King Alfor?" Lance asked dubiously. "Really? 'Cause whenever I've seen the guy's spirit, he always seems like a pretty mellow, regal guy."

"He was," Coran confirmed. "Stately, gentle, patient. But Red Lion seems to favor somewhat impetuous pilots, and this was no exception. If I remember correctly, a wine goblet was thrown at our king's head. A full one." A wistful look ghosted across his face. "It was the only time I ever recall King Alfor threatening someone. They were at one another's throats day and night until, finally, King Alfor agreed to put it to a vote." His eyes clouded with regret. "It was three to two in favor of acting against Zarkon. When we reached space, we encountered Haggar's illusion as Goddess, and…" He faltered. "You know the rest."

Frowning, Lance pushed the hair off his forehead. "I know Alfor died in that attack, and I know when we reached Arus, there hadn't been any pilots for a long time." He hesitated, knowing he was overstepping his bounds. "Did all the others die that day, too?"

"Yes," the old man whispered, eyes closing momentarily in grief. "I was the only survivor, and only because I was strapped into the back seat of Blue Lion. Had I been at the controls, I would have met the same fate as the others. But King Alfor did not die in his Lion- he sustained mortal wounds, but he survived for almost an entire day after the crash." Coran's voice wavered. "Had we had better medical equipment available, maybe he could have… but our hospitals had already been destroyed in earlier assaults, and the castle's facilities piece-mealed out to the people hiding in the cave systems. There was nothing we could do except wait."

Nodding, Lance sat quietly, looking at the bank of blank monitors in front of them. "Alfor piloted Black, right?" At Coran's nod, he frowned. "Okay, the Archives back at Galaxy Garrison have a big, gaudy plaque for Green, Yellow and Blue's pilots, so I assume they were off-worlders selected from the Alliance, but who drove Red? I always wondered that, but couldn't find any files in any of the databases."

"You wouldn't have," Coran said. "After… the crash, I had my king dying in the infirmary, death arrangements to make for the other pilots, and a small orphaned princess to consider, as well as an advancing Doom fleet. Things had to be done quickly. I sent word to the Alliance about those pilots who were Earthlings, and prepared a state funeral as best and quickly as I could."

"For Alfor?"

Coran was silent for a long pause. "And Amra," he said heavily. "Amra was the pilot of the Red Lion."

Lance's eyebrows shot nearly into his hairline. "Queen Amra?" he echoed incredulously. "Red had Allura's mother at the stick?" When Alfor nodded, he stared at the older man, dumbfounded. "Allura's mother was the one who talked Alfor into going up that day? Seriously? And threw a wine glass at his head?"

"Yes." Coran smiled regretfully at the memory. "The queen was a passionate woman. She felt very strongly that the people of Arus, and her own child, were not safe as long as Zarkon was allowed to live. Queen Amra never in my memory argued as ferociously or raised her hand in violence to anyone other than that fight. She made sure her case was heard, and many of us agreed, though only the five pilots had a vote that day. Regardless, we all shared in the fault- we had allowed Zarkon and Haggar too much time to plan. I arranged the funerals, and when Allura asked what became of her parents, I couldn't bear to tell her that her mother had not only died in that failed assault, but had been the one to instigate it."

The story was mindboggling. Why hadn't any of them ever heard any of this before? Lance frowned. "What did you tell her?"

"That I was piloting the Red Lion," Coran said with a heavy sigh. "That King Alfor had died protecting the planet and people he loved, and that her mother had died in the following ground attack from Zarkon's forces. The pilots' identities were a closely guarded secret in those days. All I had to do was erase all of our records of Amra's piloting, and being the only survivor, there was no one to gainsay me."

"But why?" Lance asked plaintively. "Why not just tell her the truth? All those years when she was lonely and felt like she wasn't tough enough to protect her people, all you had to do was tell her that she was the daughter of not one, but two warriors." He just didn't get it. Anyone who knew Allura at all knew that she'd spent most of her life trying to prove to herself that she was strong enough as a person and a ruler to protect Arus.

"Because she is our princess," came the simple reply. "She was all we had left, and I needed to protect her not just physically, but emotionally. I contacted Orla, Amra's sister, and she swore to never reveal Amra's status as a Voltron Force member, and I knew Nanny would never breathe a word to anyone."

"Why does everyone want to coddle her?" Lance exploded. "You, Keith- I just don't get it! Allura's a person, not a piece of blown glass. If you constantly shield her from everything, how is she supposed to grow, be better, stronger, smarter?"

"I think she has become astonishingly capable on her own, Lance. She is a woman, and a princess fit for any kingdom. I have not treated her with kid gloves for many years. In fact, I think it is she who treats me gently these days." Rising, he laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I understand you and Keith are struggling to establish a new relationship in many ways, not just as members of the Voltron Force. You both care for Allura in your own ways, but I fear you let your… imagined competition for her exceed your good sense. Allura does not need a protector, nor does she need a taskmaster. She needs two leaders, two extraordinary pilots and teammates, to help her negotiate the treacherous waters of Wade, Lotor, and an Alliance rattled by betrayal and corruption. Do not let love or jealousy override your duty, Lance, please. I have seen what love corrupted becomes." Coran breathed in deeply, suddenly looking much, much older than his actual age. "And while Wade is highly intelligent and a fearsome enemy, I fear what would become of you in similar circumstances much, much more."

Lance scoffed. "Seriously, Coran? You need to lay off those late night holo-dramas, 'cause they are totally warping your brain if you think I'm going to end up crossing over to the dark side and becoming some Über-Wade."

"No, Lance." Coran's grasp on Lance's shoulder tightened. "You asked for my advice tonight. I try to stay out of the personal affairs of the Voltron Force, and I have since Allura reached her majority and flatly ordered me to stop trying to procure her a suitable husband. But I have known you, and Allura, and Keith for many years. I know there are… complicated feelings on all sides." His eyes begged Lance to listen, and understand. "Nothing in the galaxy is more dangerous than love spurned. It can simmer and shift and explode into the most destructive hate imaginable. So please tell me you understand. Tell me that you and Keith will resolve your differences like adults, and that you will not let this competition between the two of you endanger Allura."

"Whoa." Lance sat back, raising his hands defensively. "I don't love Allura, not like you're thinking, and Keith's been gone entirely for years, Coran. This little love triangle you're imagining is just that- imagined. My problem is that Keith thinks he can just mosey back in, take over everything again and order us all around like flying monkeys just because he's the 'leader.' Well, he's not anymore, at least not the way he used to be. I like what I was doing. I'm good at it- damn good, and I'm not stepping aside because Commander Keith has ridden back in on his shining black steed and declared that he's got it without even checking to see what really went on daily in his absence." Lance shrugged. "I'm not content with just being second-in-command anymore. I like being in charge of the cadets, and I like being the one Allura turns to for support and advice. All I want is for Keith to realize that we can each have our areas of responsibility, but he keeps steamrolling into everything without even talking to me."

"And… that is what all this constant warring is about? Simply the dynamics of leadership?" Coran shook his head. "I don't think so, Lance. Perhaps that is most of it, but…" He trailed off thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Maybe you are correct," he admitted finally. "I clearly was mistaken."

"Okay." Lance crossed his arms and eyed Coran suspiciously. The older man never gave up a point that easily, even when he was wrong. Occupational hazard of ambassadorship.

Sometimes restraint was the key to diplomacy, Coran thought as he made his goodnights to the still wary-eyed pilot and began the long walk back to his bed chamber. He would give Lance an opportunity to consider everything he had said, and hope that he would arrive at the correct outcome. If not, then perhaps a conversation with both the pilots of the Red and Black Lions would be in order.

Because Coran was certain of one thing- if things continued as they had been, it would turn ugly quickly. Keith was a man of deep emotions, and he had been starry-eyed over Allura since she was little more than a girl. Seven years apart would not have changed that. Lance, on the other hand, had already had a solid, close friendship with the princess when the Voltron Force had disbanded, and had religiously made the flight to see and spend time with her every week until his final decampment to Arus with Daniel and Vince. Sick, on assignment, against direct orders- he had never missed a single visit. Coran frowned. And that level of devotion never came without love.

Even if the people involved were unaware of it.