Hello! This is my second draft of this first chapter. I originally started writing this fic alongside a friend, who was writing her own Klance story. Since its been oh my god almost a decade since we've touched the fic, I decided (with her permission) to pick it back up and publish it in its entirety! Keith and Lance centered chapters/segments have been written primarily by her, while Allura and Romelle centered chapters have been written by me, with some crossover between the two of us. But I have and will do my best to make things flow well!

Romelle, for whatever reason isn't in the character selection in the story creation. She's one of the main characters though! I loved season 6 of Voltron, but season 7 and 8 made me so angry. Like many other authors, this is my attempt to rewrite the flaming ball of garbage that was season 7. Complete with Allurance angst, Romellura fluff, and quintessential madness! Hope you enjoy!

1- Avalanche

Allura lumbered away from the Lions and her team, forcing her feet to push her forward. Each step felt as if she were trudging through the thick, black mud of the Bogs of Dalänadel. Momentarily, she was transported there in her memory. Her feet sodden with death and decay. Lotor's betrayal was the thick, sogging goo that coated her feet. The stench of Altean remains seeped into her memory, coating her tongue. It burned her throat like the acidic fog over the bogs and she gagged, catching herself on a boulder before landing hard on her rear. She heaved dryly, then spat, trying to rid her mouth of the taste. Allura dropped her dinged, white-silver bun against the rough surface of the rock and looked tearfully up at the crystal blue sky.

The sky betrayed her: so clear and unencumbered. Even with their victory over Lotor and Shiro's resurrection-although she was beyond thankful that he was alive-she felt a storm swirling violently in her breast. It was sort of panic that clawed at the inside of her chest: a symptom of the sorrow she felt for leaving Lotor behind. No words could express her fury when she learned of the Altean colony and his unforgivable actions.

She had been tricked. He'd posed as a calm, gentle, clandestine leader, concerned only with harnessing the quintessence so that the Galra would no longer have to brutally extract it from planets. His cause was not ignoble. He was different from his father in that aspect. Emperor Zarkon was a perfect, power-hungry menace to the universe who easily won the hearts of Galra soldiers with his tyrannical tactics. There was a time Allura would have said it was simply in the Galras' nature, that it was simply how they were created. Perhaps there was a part of her that still thought that. After all, in Lotor's presence, she'd had the thought more than once that his peaceful Altean nature seemed stronger and more prominent, which endeared Allura more to him than she cared to admit. As much as she hated to admit it, she still harbored feelings of animosity towards the Galra, but she at least was able to exclude those who she knew were on the side of freedom and peace, like Keith, Krolia, and other soldiers in the Blade of Marmora. She thought Lotor would be one of the people she could trust. However, in their battle, it became abundantly clear that he possessed the same crazed lust for power his father did. The only difference was that Lotor's lunacy was hidden behind a carefully crafted wall of twisted half-truths, omitted details, and well-placed compliments.

Allura laboriously hugged her knees to her chest. Scraping her tongue with her top teeth she spat once more, finally ridding her mouth of the acidic taste of bogs and death. She tightened the grip of her arms around her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. Lotor deceived everyone. He'd deceived her. The team never fully trusted him. Only after she had vouched for him on multiple occasions did they stop their objections. Regardless of the tender, caring, affirming words Lance supplied while they were alone in the castle's flight deck, it was her fault Lotor was able to build those ships. Everything that happened today was because of her unwitting participation in Lotor's master plan. She clenched her jaw so tightly that her teeth pressed each other deeper into her skull. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she sucked in a gasp through her strained lips.

How could I have been so stupid? Allura had a feeling from the very beginning that Lotor wasn't quite everything he claimed to be. But she tried to take comfort in what Lance had said earlier. Lotor did everything perfectly. He always knew the exact words to say to make her heart sore with hope, to quell her doubts of his intentions, to seduce her mind and heart into his affections so that he could easily execute his plans. There was a reason he went after her so single-mindedly: she was a voice of reason on their team, a leader whom the paladins looked to. He went after her because of her position, not because he harbored true feelings for her. Or perhaps he had? Even though he lied about almost everything, she couldn't help but believe his declarations of love were earnest. Though, that could have been another tool of manipulation. After all, judgement was so easily clouded when one was-dare she say-in love. Because for the brief moment, she had been. Or at least dangerously close to falling into it. Perhaps infatuation was a better word? Regardless, he had deceived her. He'd made her believe that he was honest and true, and that he loved her. That was the part that hurt the most. There was now no way she could believe even one single utterance that ever came from his mouth. Even if he was telling the truth about loving her, he'd lied about so much that there was no way she could ever know for sure. And now that he was dead, there was no way for her to ever find out.

She swallowed hard, then her chest jumped up with a sharp intake of air. She played right into his hands, even though at the beginning she knew something was amiss. Her instincts were something she'd come to rely upon. But Lotor knit a seamless disguise for his true intentions with his silver tongue and allegedly noble deeds. Allura believed actions always did speak louder than words, and Lotor used both to win her to his side. Despite all the blame she placed on herself for furthering his agenda, it did not compare to the guilt and shame she felt for allowing him into her heart. He played her as he would a pawn in a game of shanik'ja. She had stumbled on Shiro and Coran playing on the castle mere movements ago. Shiro had said it was just like an Earth game, chess. Looking back at everything now, she saw that at every step, Lotor was the hand controlling the board, using her like he would a queen. She had played her part in his plan flawlessly: dubious like a love-struck yupper that clung to his every word and will.

Allura's body felt like a metal coin pressed into a piece of dry ice, vibrating wildly while her spirit screamed in agony, much like the rapidly cooling piece of metal. She pressed her knees into her arms as she hugged them with all her might. She tried to keep her tremors under control, but her hands still shook. No breath passed through her lips as hot tears streaked down her cheeks and quivers of grief ravaged her. A gentle hand graced her left shoulder while Allura fought against every excruciating sob. Her chest convulsed as the comforting hand sent warmth into her spirit. Finally, she eased air passed her lips and allowed herself to relax a bit. The person sat down next to her, still not moving their hand from her shoulder. Slowly drawing breath, her frigid spirit thawed, and after a few ticks, she mustered up the courage to glance at her comforter.

Coran's familiar, ocean-blue eyes sparkled with sympathy and concern. Hurt welled up in her again as his pained expression softened, his mustache drooping slightly. She threw her arms around his shoulders and wept into his neck. She wanted to scream and wail and curse the name of the man who exploited her. She hated him. And yet his death—the way they had to leave him in the quintessence field—wracked her soul with grief. Guilt also plagued her spirit, and was compounded by the fact that she had the audacity to still care, in a strange way, for the deranged man. Allura could not bare to let the rest of her team see just how much his death and betrayal shook her, even though one could argue it was to be expected. In time, perhaps, she would be able to. But words could not even begin to describe her bitter regret. All she could do was cry on Coran. She pressed her mouth firmly against his shoulder, muffling the sounds of her outcry. His essence sent cool waves of comfort while he caressed her head and rubbed gentle circles on her back. She couldn't see the faint, electric lavender glow that emanated from the two of them; her eyes were too tightly shut. But she could feel Coran's quintessence like a salve on her fresh wound as the two coalesced their energies together, sharing in the grief so that neither of them had to bear the full brunt of it.

After about half a varga, her tears finally abated and the glow faded from the two of them. She sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes with her fingers and offered her companion a tight-lipped smile in wordless thanks. Coran merely nodded at her.

"Do you want to go face the others, or would you like me to sit with you for a little while longer?"

Allura glanced down before leaning into her mentor again and loosely hugging his waist one last time. "Thank you, Coran." She then released him and signaled that she was indeed ready to return to the others.

He smiled, mustache curling gently upward as he helped her to her feet. "My pleasure, Princess. If you ever need anything, I'm always here for you."

"KEITH! YOU GOT INCOMING, CATCH!"

The urgency of Lance's voice slammed into Keith full force, and sparked a renewed energy within him. He wasn't dead yet. Neither was Lance. They could do this, they could save him, the three of them could make it out of this alive –

Keith's head spun as he pushed himself up onto his elbows from where he had previously been sprawled out on his back, the wind knocked out of him from his fall.

He barely had time to take in his surroundings before he noticed that he did indeed have incoming: Shiro barreling towards him after an impossible leap from a level above them, a monstrous expression on his face and glowing hand raised towards Keith –

And there was his previously dropped bayard, hurtling towards him through the air courtesy of Lance, who was standing several platforms above him, looking more helpless and panicked than Keith had ever seen him. Keith barely had time to consider his teammate, training all his somewhat disoriented focus on catching that bayard, catching it before it was too late…he couldn't miss, Shiro was almost on top of him, he had to defend himself –

Miraculously, he caught the thing and activated it in a smooth movement just as Shiro was on top of him, hand colliding with the newly materialized sword. His eyes were glowing as they reflected the light emanating off his hand, illuminating a face that was twisted into a sneer so unlike Shiro, so inhuman –

Keith's eyes shot open as he woke up with a yell, vaguely aware that someone had shaken him awake. He blinked rapidly, frowning in confusion as he noticed that he had bolted completely upright, sitting there momentarily with a scowl on his face before realizing where he was and who had woken him.

Krolia leaned forward, one hand placed comfortingly on his back, face full of concern. "Keith?" she asked, peering into his face, "Are you okay?"

He tilted his head back slightly and closed his eyes, clutching a hand over his hammering heart and desperately trying to calm himself.

"Please tell me you didn't just see all that."

He knew it was ridiculous to hope that what he had just seen had been some sort of bad dream, but he wanted so badly for it to be. Growing up on Earth, Keith had always fantasized about life beyond his own, one that would take him away from his dull life to adventure and action. His head had always been in the clouds, had always been up there with the stars, dreaming, fantasizing, imagining –

But he had never been that imaginative. Not so imaginative that his subconscious would have conjured up…whatever that had been.

The image of Shiro's expression passed once more behind his eyelids, and his eyes shot open, determined to be filled with the image of something other than that demented face.

His mother sat back on her heels, cocking her head to the side and regarding him with pursed lips and furrowed brows. "Do you…want me to lie to you?"

Keith fought the urge to swear and instead smacked both hands over his eyes, keeping them there as if they could help scrub out the images dancing around his brain. So that was a negative on the bad dream then. Sometimes he forgot that his mother was even more awkward around Earth lingo than he was. She, at least, had an excuse. Normally, he might have chuckled at her reaction to the phrase, but he knew that her answer meant exactly what he had been dreading. He had seen some insane things during their journey together, but he'd really been hoping that just this once, his brain had conjured that weirdness up as some sort of regular nightmare.

It certainly was a nightmare, but unfortunately not one that he could just forget about.

He groaned at his mother's answer, unable to focus on anything other than the snippets of the vision that were floating around in his head.

"How?" he asked through his hands, his voice sounding small and broken even to himself. "How was that my future?"

Krolia gracefully folded herself into a sitting position beside him, keeping physical contact with the touch of her hand on his back. He was grateful – he thought he might hyperventilate without it. He found it…soothing. He had told her as much after another wild and terrifying vision had shook him from sleep a couple weeks ago. It was good to have someone there to help him through it. Keith had grown up a loner, reveling in his own misery and wallowing in self-pity after his father had died, never thinking he'd be loved again, never thinking he'd be cared for again, not like his father had cared for him –

But then there was Shiro, and with Shiro came Adam, and then eventually Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Coran…his team. They were as close to a family as anything Keith had ever had, and his heart ached as he missed the ways they all supported him.

Pidge's meaningful looks and understanding of his need for solitude.

Hunk's sweet smiles and compassionate eyes.

Coran's rambling that Keith secretly loved whenever he just needed a distraction from his own brain.

Allura's capacity to listen, to feel what he was feeling.

Adam's analytically but caringly placed advice.

Shiro's soft smile and brotherly wisdom.

And Lance. Lance with the firm shoulder touches that kept him grounded. Lance, who would flounder for a comeback while they were fighting, who was barely able to string together a coherent sentence before the afternoon, but who always seemed to have the right words when it mattered the most.

Lance. That whole thing was just a minefield that Keith was not ready to enter. After the past year and – how long had it been? – of crazy, unexplainable visions…he was the last person Keith wanted to think about right now.

He thought back to the latest crazy, unexplainable vision.

Krolia sighed next to him, resting her head lightly on his shoulder.

"I don't know Keith. I'm sorry, that was…horrible. I know what Shiro means to you. You've told me, and I've seen it. I've seen the man that he is through your eyes. So I don't know…I don't know what that was, Keith. I'm sorry," she finished, sounding defeated.

"He would never hurt me like that, he'd never do anything like that, I swear, he –"

Krolia hummed innocently in agreement, but Keith stopped dead in his tracks, noticing that she had started to move her hand in soothing circles around the small of his back. He turned to look at her, knowing as he caught the look in her eyes that she had just realized she wasn't as sneaky as she had thought, distracting him by getting him to talk, while she rubbed circles on his back, which she only ever did to calm him down when he –

Oh no. Oh, please no, please not again.

He recoiled from her touch, scrambling in a sort of clumsy crawl to cover the short distance between their sleeping area and the little pool of water –

"Oh, come ON!" he roared, smashing his fist into the water as if it had personally offended him. "I thought we had this under control!"

He wasn't yelling at Krolia, he knew she knew that. No, he was yelling at his own, insane, half Galran body, which after almost 20 years had finally decided to start living up to its Galran name. The ripples in the water stilled, but he pulled away before he had to see his own reflection again, see the yellow eyes, the narrowed, cat-like pupils, the teeth, sharpened like an animal, a monster. He was standing now, arms folded, shaking with a fierce anger that he knew wasn't helping. He jammed his eyes shut, breathing violently through his nose, trying to will the anger away, but it kept bubbling under the surface. He couldn't look like this, he couldn't be like this. If he was never accepted on Earth before, when he looked normal, human, how the hell would he be accepted now? What would his teammates think if they saw him like this? He knew that they had long since accepted his Galran heritage, but accepting that fact accompanied by a very human visual was a lot easier to swallow than if Keith looked like their enemy. Would Allura take one look at his…his fangs, and change her mind? Would Shiro freak out upon meeting his brother's yellow eyes? Would Lance laugh, make fun of him? Or worse yet; call him a monster, be terrified of him? Would they be unable to look past his physical exterior, unable to recognize him for the same Keith he had always been?

"Keith."

Krolia's voice drew him out of his frantic thoughts, and he cracked an eye open to look at her. She patted the ground beside herself, a look of utmost empathy on her face.

He sighed. He wanted so badly to be able to figure this out by himself, to be able to…calm down, change back, by himself. To control himself. Krolia had assured him that they would get there over time, with practice, but Keith was starting to lose patience and faith.

For now, he needed her help to bring him down, and he reluctantly slunk back towards her, dropping down next to her with his arms still folded like a petulant child.

"I hate this. So. Much," he muttered, his voice still laced with anger.

She smiled sweetly and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.

"I know Keith, but it's you. It's still you." She went back to tracing circles on his back, and he closed his eyes again, willing it all to go away…his Galran features, that horrible vision of the future, all of it.

Trying his best to keep his breathing steady, he nodded in acknowledgment of her words. They had been having this argument for a few months now, ever since his Galran features had materialized. He knew that Krolia was proud to see the Galran features surface in her son, knew that she would love him no matter how he looked. She spent many of their arguments assuring him that his team wouldn't think of him any differently, that he wasn't a monster and they wouldn't regard him as such, that it wouldn't matter to them. To Shiro. To Lance.

And he'd made it perfectly clear that although he was touched by her words, he wasn't entirely sure he agreed. It scared him to look so different than he always had, to have no real control over when the change came and went, to have no concrete explanation for why this was happening to him.

They had tried to find those answers, scientifically. Krolia's theory was that the Galran traits had been triggered by the time Keith had been spending around his mother, along with their prolonged exposure and proximity to quintessence. It was a good theory, though still only a theory, which didn't exactly put Keith's mind at ease. He'd always been a man of action, ready to move without asking many questions, but this one time, he was having a hard time accepting and moving on without more concrete evidence.

What pissed him off the most though, was that Krolia's theory about what triggered the gene outbursts actually did have a lot of evidence that they had gathered over time.

Heightened emotion.

The first time Keith's Galran side had surfaced, he'd woken from a vision-dream in tears. Keith hated crying, rarely cried. After his father had died, he had promised himself that he would save his tears for the most important scenarios. In this particular vision-dream, Keith had had to relive finding out about his father's death. He hadn't cried when they'd told him. Later, Keith had insisted on seeing his father's body, just to say his last goodbye, but when they'd told him that there was nothing left of his father, nothing that they could have salvaged from the burnt wreckage – that's when Keith broke.

Keith had awoken with that freshly dug up pain, had seen Krolia's expression of untapped grief fade as she yelped in surprise as she caught sight of her son, who had about ten seconds of blissful ignorance left before his world was completely turned around.

Grief, was the first explanation Krolia had suggested. Keith had completely freaked out after getting a look at himself, begging his mother for a rational explanation to quell his fear. There was none, she had told him.

"I've never heard of a Galran/Human hybrid. I'm sorry, Keith," she had looked at him with those kind eyes, "Really, I am. But we're in uncharted territory here."

Keith was sick of being in uncharted territory.

He took a shuddering breath, and asked a question he knew he'd asked before. He just…wanted to hear her answer again. He never quite believed her. But it was a nice sounding answer.

"Krolia," he started before stopping and worrying his lip between his teeth for a second. He tried again.

"Mom."

She perked up next to him. Keith was still getting used to Krolia, his mother, being part of his life, part of his support system. He'd gone so long without her that he'd always assumed she didn't want him, assumed she'd hate him if he ever found her. It couldn't have been farther from the truth, and Keith knew that. He was just…slow. Tentative to let people in. He always had been. Scared to get close to people, scared they would be taken from him like his father, scared of people leaving him.

He knew she wouldn't, not again.

He rarely called her "mom". She knew that when he did, he really had something weighing heavily on his heart. She listened attentively to him, ready for his question.

"If I can't get this under control –"

"You will."

"But if I can't." Keith met her gaze before continuing, "Do you think the team will still accept me? You know, if it ever happens around them? Or maybe, if we get out of here, and the changes are permanent - wait, they could be permanent. Wait, Krolia, you don't think they could become permanent, do you? What if my skin goes purple?" – Keith was in full panic mode now – "What if I grow claws? OH quiznack, what if my ears-"

He yelped suddenly as Cosmo blinked into existence on his lap, back from hunting. The wolf nuzzled against Keith's shoulder, as if sensing his distress.

Keith wanted to facepalm again.

"Cosmo, we've talked about this buddy, you can't scare a guy like that!"

A suppressed laugh from beside him caused Keith to look back up at his mother, absently giving Cosmo a belly rub from where he lay sprawled in Keith's lap.

"Oh, laugh it up. A giant teleporting wolf appearing out of thin air is definitely doing wonders for this," he hissed, gesturing to his face with his free hand.

Krolia held up her hands in submission as Keith glared at her. "No, no, you're absolutely right…while it is entertaining, we must keep your stress levels low to avoid – well, what you're hoping to avoid."

She folded her hands over her lap.

"Which brings me to answering your question. Keith, if any of your human compatriots were to see you like this…they wouldn't care. From everything you've told me about them, they're far too smart to let some surface level differences obscure their vision of you. They'll see you how they always have. You're their friend, their teammate, their – you're a member of their family, Keith. You always will be. You won't lose them because of something as trivial as appearance. It's who you are, Keith."

Keith exhaled. He liked hearing Krolia's fantasy rendition of his team's reaction to his new look. He wasn't even sure why he cared so much, why it bothered him. It wasn't like he had been planning on going back to Voltron anytime soon. And yet –

And yet, on the off chance that these crazy visions were true, he might be seeing them all again, and soon, by the looks of it. Most of his future visions had something to do with the team. One member in particular, showing up frequently in ways that embarrassed Keith; ways that made him want to stand on the edge of the space whale and scream into the deep, black void.

The visions were too weird, too surreal, too frightening…and some, too tantalizing. God, they terrified him. But God, how he wished that they would be real.

He shook the visions out of his head. He didn't want to deal with that confusion right now. He didn't even want to argue with Krolia today or rebut her loving answer with his skeptical and doubtful, "But what if's". No. Keith was tired.

So for now, he chose to solely focus his energy on one thing, and he was aware how much the next words out of his mouth sounded like they hadn't heard a word out of Krolia's.

"Let's fix this. Regardless of…how either of us feels about this, I want to be able to control it. So…let's do it."

Krolia hummed in agreement, not pushing the matter of his insecurity for now. A light smile tugged at her face.

"Okay. You can do this, Keith. Like I've said, you just have to be patient. Besides, I recall hearing about a certain brother of yours telling you – what was it – that 'patience yields focus'?"

Keith stiffened at the words, momentarily having forgotten about his alarming vision of Shiro. Krolia's smile faded as she too remembered the vision, and the current effect those words must have had on her son.

"Keith," she said, as gently as she could, "I know there's some sort of explanation. These visions, they're tricky. You can't read too much into them. Without context, you have no idea…" She trailed off, seeming to be somewhat at a loss for what to say.

She continued so quietly that Keith almost didn't hear her.

"Like you said. That wasn't him. Now," she raised her voice slightly, "tell me more about your Voltron Team."

Keith could only nod, feeling the tension and anxiety he had been trying to will away creep back into his body. He knew she was trying to get him to calm down by telling her about the team, the tactic had worked to remove his Galran physicality in the past. But today…he wasn't sure what was wrong with him today. He just couldn't shake that image of Shiro. It was ridiculous. It's not like he really believed in these futuristic visions anyways, if he was honest with himself. If he believed one, he'd have to believe them all, and though they weren't all as terrifying as the one he'd just had…he wasn't exactly ready to just accept some of them as his future. Some of them, featuring a certain sharpshooter, still made no sense at all.

He focused on that, desperately trying to pull himself together.

Come on, Keith. No way that stuff is real. You can't possibly be this stupid.

He wanted what some of the visions showed him. Desperately.

He wouldn't see you like that. Ever. You're not like that with each other, you never have been. Lance and Keith, neck and neck. Remember?

But they'd become friends. If Keith was honest with himself, Lance was the best friend he had. If he wasn't counting his brother, then yeah. He supposed that made Lance his best friend. And here he was having these weird visions about the guy.

Man, you've never had a best friend, and you finally have one and you gotta go make it all weird?!

Keith wanted to laugh – that last thought was in Lance's voice, shaking him out of his uncertainty. He was being ridiculous. The visions were ridiculous. Lance was his friend. He didn't have many, so he wasn't about to mess that up.

The visions weren't real. They couldn't be. And he'd repeat it to himself like a mantra until any doubt was extinguished.

And if that was all true…that meant that crazy fever dream about Shiro couldn't have meant anything either. He took a few deep breaths, focusing on the in and out motion of his breathing.

None of it is real. They're just…nightmares. That you share. With your alien mom.

Not the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him.

He took another deep breath, and began to fondly tell his mother about his family.

While Pidge was trying to send out a signal to Earth, Romelle decided that she'd make her rounds and try and get to know the paladins a little better. Especially the Princess, whom she seemed to have lost track of in her quest to speak to the other Paladins. Currently, the young Altean was making her way to the Blue Lion to see if she could find her there. It was a fairly safe place to assume the woman would be. Romelle was rather drawn to Allura, which she thought that made sense considering the royal Altean was one of the remaining pieces of the ancient culture. Although, since she and Coran were both alive, could it technically still be considered ancient?

Well, I suppose it would be, considering they were frozen for ten hecta-phoebs. Wait, hecta-phoebes? Wouldn't that be ten hundreds of deca-phoebs? That only makes one thousand. So it would be ten chilia-phoebes. Ten thousands. Romelle rolled her eyes. Or you could just make it simple and say one myria-decaphoeb. Or better yet! Ten thousand deca-phoebs!

Romelle shook her head at herself. Why she had trouble remembering the solid base of their number system irked her, but she decided to blame her confusion on the flurry of events that had happened in the last quintant, not counting the time it took for her, Krolia and Keith to meet the other Paladins. It was considerably more adventure than she was used to. Discovering the truth behind Lotor's conspiracy, traveling across light years of space to witness a galactic battle between two giant robots and one castle, could be described as an hair-raising, anxiety inducing, altogether terrifying experience. Terrifying in terrific sort of way though. It was not that Romelle was particularly fond of the experience, rather there was a sort of excitement and invigoration she felt knowing that the menace who enslaved her people was gone. It was about time that putrescent canker with a god complex got what was coming to him.

Romelle turned her mind away from all thoughts of her home planet and allowed them to wander to the many, much more pleasant things she'd learned about the others on the team since she boarded their ship.

Coran reminded her of a firecracker. Talking to him was like waiting for a lit fuse to run out. She never could predict what exactly was going to come out of his mouth, but it was almost always loud, strangely witty, and very educational when she could actually understand what he was talking about. The man was like a ticking time-bomb of wild information.

Then there were the other Paladins. Lance, their sharp-shooter could crack a joke at just about anything. She had to admit, his sense of humor did make it at least a little easier to come to grips with what happened. It also helped that Hunk was right with her anytime she expressed her shock and dismay at their situations, he was just simply "used" to doing what these space rangers did on a regular basis. Then there was Pidge. She could already see how the Green Paladin's logical mind and quick wit could be extremely helpful. The only time Romelle had heard her speak for any length of time was when she found information pertinent to helping their mission. So she seemed, if nothing else, extremely intelligent and reliable.

Mission. Listen to me. I sound like a regular agent! She helped the paladins defeat Lotor, and now she was helping them in their fight for peace in the universe. Or at least, she fully intended to. Romelle chuckled to herself out loud. "You'd be proud if you knew where I was, Bandor. Don't worry. I'm going to help fix this mess and help spread peace in the universe."

"Did you say something?"

Romelle let out a yell, springing around to see the Altean princess. "Oh! Quizzak! You scared me," she giggled.

Laughter bubbled up from Allura's throat. "I'm sorry!" She squeaked. Her voice then dropped a few pitches as she started to regain her composure. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Romelle couldn't prevent the embarrassed heat from rushing into her face as she continued laughing with the other woman. It was only a few more ticks before they both calmed down and Romelle could speak again. "I, uh, I guess I'm going to have to work on that, aren't I, if I want to be a space ranger with you lot." She took a deep breath and regained her composure, mostly. "Where did you even come from?"

Allura let out one last melodic giggle before answering. "I was walking down the ramp while you were coming up."

Romelle grabbed at her neck and nervously massaged the muscles. "Oh, uh, that's embarrassing. I didn't even see you. I'm really going to need to work on that, then. Either that, or you're just stealthy by nature."

"Perhaps, but aren't all Alteans? We are shape shifters all," Allura chuckled.

Romelle slapped a hand to her forehead and let out a single bark of laughter. "Oh! Well yes! Of course they are-we are. Uh, you do have a point there."

"So, were you looking for something in the Blue Lion?" Allura asked, thankfully not commenting on Romelle's lack of grace.

"Oh, I uh, yes! Well, someone, actually. And it seems I have found them!" The heat started to ease away from Romelle's cheeks. "I figured it'd be good to get to know all the paladins a little bit better. Besides, you're also the Princess of Altea, and I may or may not be absolutely fascinated about your home world and culture!" her hand gestures escalated, achieving new heights of dramatic flare as she continued to speak. "I've always been curious as to where we came from, what the ancient Alteans were like. From what I understand they are the ones who built Voltron, and were the only planet to resist Zarkon's tyranny! Those are the people I want to learn about. The ones who face the danger for the good of others! Not the ones who believe only the ideas they are spoon fed." A thought occurred to Romelle just then. She immediately dropped her increasingly animated gesticulations, taking in a deep breath and grabbing at the back of her neck as she shot the princess an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I can get a little excited."

"Well, your excitement is appreciated. I'm glad to see you're passionate about helping Voltron. I would be happy to provide any answers you seek," Allura said gently, her eyebrows raising and knitting together gently. Profound sadness lurked in her eyes, and in the single wrinkle that appeared between the princess's brow, but Romelle was too excited by the prospect of finally getting answers to her questions to notice.

"Really?" Romelle gasped. She hadn't been expecting such a forthwith answer, especially with all her rambling. In her excitement, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Can I ask you a few questions, now then, while we wait?" she regretted the query instantly. Surely the princess would be off-put by her aggressive curiosity. At least, that's how many Alteans treated her back on Pollux.

"Of course. I'd love to share the knowledge of Altea with you." Allura smiled.

"Oh! Alright!" Romelle expclained. The princess's response sent ecstatic electricity buzzing through her body, and she quickly searched her mind for one of the many questions that had been bouncing around. "Um. What to start with? Oh! Here's a good one. What was Altea like?"

Allura paused, putting a delicate finger on her chin before speaking. "Would you like to go sit down?"

Romelle gave one fervent nod and followed the princess into the Blue Lion. "Lead the way."

The two Alteans talked as they walked up the ramp into the blue lion. Allura began with the basic structure of Altean society, the nuts and bolts of their philosophy of peace. Romelle nodded, listening attentively to the older girl as they entered the Lion's hull.

The stark differences between their governing bodies and cultural customs were intriguing to say the least. Romelle admired that the primary directive for the Ancient Alteans was knowledge and understanding, rather than blindly following a false god. In fact, they did not worship gods, but honored the Ancients. Their own people who came before them and set the quintessential building blocks for their society. She marveled at the way Allura described their views about seeking understanding when it came to other peoples' customs for their own betterment. Pursuit of knowledge of oneself and others drove people to understand differences and accommodate those differences lead to the prosperity for every inhabitant on Altea. That would have been a nice ideal to grow up with instead of the isolationist mindset of fear her people held so dearly. She took comfort in knowing that her Ancient Altean ancestors had a more inclusive philosophy of life. It made her feel much more connected with her people. Back on Pollux, she'd felt so isolated. After her family and friends were all taken from her, she would have been willing to do anything to get them back, but everyone around her said that it was "such an honor," that they got "chosen for the New Colony." No one would help her. "It simply wasn't the way," they'd argue. It also didn't help that the only two others who would have been at least sympathetic to her worries had been stolen away and sucked dry of all their quintessence, as she'd recently learned. She grimaced as the image of Petrulius, shriveled and devoid of all live flashed in her mind's eye. She tried to hide her anguish it best as she could, fearing Allura might take offense at the disgusted and grief stricken expression that crossed her face. If the Princess noticed, she didn't say anything, only pausing for a thoughtful silence before continuing her explanation.

As wrongly her people may have treated her, she couldn't exactly blame them for the way they acted. They were being manipulated into subservience; into a narrow mindset that made blind faith an easy solution. Romelle was the only one who doubted Lotor enough to actually ask questions. It got her in trouble more times than she could count: accosted, shunned, alienated and mistreated for believing something different than what they had been taught from birth.

And now, here was Allura, explaining the exact opposite concept as a foundational ideal in Ancient Altean society. Finally, someone who she could relate to. Someone who understood standing up for a just cause.

It was interesting. Both cultures held a strong sense of duty. While New Alteans were faithful through and through to their savior and god, Lotor, which made Romelle sick to her stomach, the Ancient Alteans had every dedication to understanding one another, as well as other peoples. The strong sense of resolve to live and die for these reasons was the commonality between the two; and while she detested one, she decided quickly that she loved the other. Romelle finally felt proud of being Altean. For decades she had rejected nearly every part of her home culture and society, to the point where she wanted to be anywhere but Pollux. Anything but Altean. And here she finally was: socializing with another Altean who just told her that she and Voltron would fight to protect anyone who was oppressed. They would be able to fight for her people.

Romelle smiled as the melodious cadence of Allura's voice became softer and the conversation shifted more towards the natural aesthetic of the lost planet. The princess sat down on a couch they had strapped down in the Blue Lion's hull. Romelle sat across from her on the same couch, crossing her legs underneath her and turning her whole body to face the princess directly. A small smile came across Allura's lips. Romelle felt a surge of warmth that seemed to emanate from the silver-haired Altean. Her tone softened to a melancholy, almost-whisper as sorrowful nostalgia painted itself on her copper skin.

"Altea was a beautiful planet," she said. "Clear, blue skies, vibrant green foliage. During the warm phoebs, the lands behind Altea's castle was the most beautiful vibrant green you could ever see…" Tears cast a sheen in Allura's eyes as she glanced down at the floor. Romelle couldn't imagine the grief she must have felt. Or perhaps, maybe she could? The atrocity Lotor had committed against her people was... and they weren't just her people, were they? She bet the princess considered them hers too.

A quiet moment went by before Allura spoke again. "My favorite time was right after the rains when the juniberry flowers would bloom. The smell would just saturate the air all over the countryside. I used to sit on my window sill, basking in the warmth of the sun, just breathing in that sweet air." The princess sighed happily, slumping down and turning her gaze to the ground as a tear fell down her cheek. "That was my favorite place in the universe."

"Wow," Romelle whispered. "I wish I could have seen it."

Allura breathed a small laugh as she brought her gaze up to Romelle's. "Me too," she said. A look flashed quickly on the princess's face as if she was surprised by her tender-hearted admission.

Romelle gave a soft smile, her thoughts wandering to her home planet. Sure, most of the people on Pollux were narrow-minded and difficult to be around at the best of times, but that didn't mean she wasn't fond of the place; she had grown up there after all. She used to spend hours admiring its beauty.

"On the planet where I was raised, everything was green all deca-phoeb round. My family lived not far from the river. There, I used to spend vargas out there with my brother, looking for dollywoggles." Romelle laughed lightly, recalling the days of her childhood. "He and I would run down to the water and play there all quintant if my mother and father would have let us." Her expression fell, recalling bittersweet memories. "But, when my mother and father were taken into the other colony, Bandor and I, well I would go there to get away from everything. I did a lot of my thinking about Lotor there. That's also where I met Krolia and Keith. I guess you could say it's a pretty significant place in my life." Romelle shrugged and smirked a little.

Allura leaned against the arm of the couch and turned her body towards the other Altean. "You guess?" An amused smile passed across her lips.

Romelle laughed. "Well, that may be a bit of an understatement. If not for that place, I wouldn't be here with you and the Paladins. It's not every day you get to take down the insane, power-hungry psychopath who effectively enslaved your people for millennia," Romelle said, shrugging a shoulder.

Allura gave a half-hearted chuckle before pain streaked across her face. "I'm... so sorry for what Lotor did to you and your people," she said with sorrow shining in her eyes.

"What are you apologizing for? It's not like it's your fault," Romelle answered. "Besides, we've both lost the people we loved to the Galra Empire. Now we get the chance to avenge them. I know it won't bring the lost back, but at least we can make sure that future generations don't suffer the same fate."

The heartache on Allura's face melted and gave way to an expression of hope. "Yes. That's right." A comfortable, warm silence passed between the two as they exchanged looks of understanding.

Suddenly, Keith's voice came over the comm, making Romelle nearly jump out of her skin. "Allura, are you and Blue ready? We have to leave as soon as possible."

"Ready, Keith. All checks out here," Allura replied almost immediately not even glancing to look at the receiver. She was still looking straight at Romelle who had jolted so hard, one of her tucked legs was now on the floor, ready to push herself from her seat should the need be urgent.

"Good. Meet down in front of the Black Lion and we'll figure out how we'll split all the passengers. Over and out."

Allura's comm went silent as she blinked a smile at the other woman. "I-I would very much like to continue this conversation at a later time if that's all right with you?"

Romelle turned her surprised eyes on the princess before regaining her senses and nodding her head. "Uh, yes, of course!" The thought of reconvening with the princess sent a warm buzz of electricity through her mind. The gentleness in Allura's crystal blue eyes was welcoming as she cast a meaningful glance at Romelle. What exact meaning could be behind it, Romelle could only guess. Perhaps it was their shared hardships that brought on that look of grateful understanding? That seemed the most likely of answers. Regardless, she knew the princess took, at least, some small enjoyment in her company, even if it was only a few short doboshes. It made a sort of pride swell in Romelle's chest.

"Come on, let's head down," Allura stated as she stood up gracefully from the couch.

Romelle hopped up and lost her balance briefly, flailing her arms above her head before she stuck them out to her sides to catch herself. "Right!" she chuckled nervously, doing her best to draw as little attention as possible to her fumbling limbs. "No time like the present to get on a year-long voyage through space! … How long is an Earth year again?"

Allura let out a small giggle. "Pidge said a year and a half. The journey will take roughly one deca-phoeb, give or take a few movements."

"Oh, right, thanks." Romelle grinned and began walking down the ramp to the rest of the group. A wave of bravery then came over her to ask one of the questions that had been burning in her mind ever since the team decided to move on. But before she could stop herself, words were already falling out of her mouth. "I've got a lot to learn if I'm going to be helping you all on missions. I don't suppose you could, maybe, train me along the way?" Romelle asked tentatively.

Allura looked surprised at her. "Train you?"

"Well, yes!" Romelle gesticulated widely as they continued walking. "If I can be of use to you all in some way, like when we go down to the surface of planets and whatnot, I want to be ready to help! Not just be dead weight."

Allura thought about it for a moment, shifting her gaze upwards to the sky. "I suppose that would be a good idea, wouldn't it? It would be ideal to have more people on the ground able to provide relief. I'd be happy to offer assistance."

"Yes!" Romelle clenched a fist and pumped it in victory. "Oh! Sorry. I mean…" she cleared her throat. "Thank you, Princess Allura." Romelle bowed, bringing her hands up in front of her face and touched the heels of her palms together, curling her fingers in the shape of a chalice.

Allura stared wide-eyed at her. "That's—"

Romelle suddenly became self-conscious and dropped the gesture, standing upright. "Is there something wrong?"

"No! Nothing! It's just… That was the traditional Altean greeting of peace. I haven't seen that in… since Altea was destroyed."

The younger woman was taken aback slightly before she smiled. "Well, I guess it's good to know that your culture survived. In some ways, at least. Where I grew up, we did it as a sign of respect for teachers and leaders."

Allura's eyes shone with happy nostalgia. "It was our honorable greeting. It is only right for me to return it." Allura put the base of her palms together and curled her fingers gently before giving a small bow.

Light pink flushed across Romelle's cheeks and her lips slightly parted. Allura, the Crowned Princess of Altea, the highest ranking person she'd ever met was bowing to her in the typical sign of respect for worldly authority. No. Allura was doing as a sign of peace, just as she had said, Romelle reminded herself. Knowing that still didn't make it any less shocking. And it didn't keep her heart from beating faster.

Allura brought her head back up and have a gentle smile. "Perhaps you could tell me more about what became of my people."

Romelle could hardly contain her excitement, her face flushing red now as she bounced slightly on her toes. "Then it's settled! You train me, and teach me about your customs, and I'll tell you about Pollux! The good parts, though. Minus Lotor's influence, living there wasn't all bad."

Allura nodded as a smile spread across her face and hummed in appreciative agreement. This entire conversation had gone exceedingly better than Romelle initially hoped and she had a difficult time not skipping next to Allura as the two made their way down to meet the rest of the team.