All Allura knows how to do is give.
When she was a kid, and a court officialβs child wanted her doll, her mother silently tugged it from her hands and placed it in theirs.
βWe are royalty, Allura,β she had murmured, white hair glistening around her face under strong sunlit rays. βWhat belongs to us must always belong to our people.β
Her mother had seemed so otherworldly and powerful in that moment, gentle and yet unwavering all at once.
Allura knew sheβd do anything to be like her, so she bit back her tears and nodded, swallowing the knot in her throat.
Then, the world changed. No, that wasnβt quite right.
It blasted into shards too numerous and fragile to count, thrusting her into a deep sleep, and jolting her back just when she was on the cusp of a blissful, silent infinity. Reopening her eyes was like staring into a fluorescent nightmare. Her beloved home, her planet, had expanded in what felt like a day. She had gone from a figure on a rock, hurtling through space like all other living things, to a woman who was meant to see the universe all at once care deeply for every other creature.
Allura recalled her mother. She remembered sweet gentle hands and a tough, steady spirit. With arms wide open, she gave and gave all she had left, which wasnβt much.
First, she gave her castle. The last ties to her family now rested in the trust of five strange, well-meaning but ignorant humans. While the lions werenβt hers to hand over, that castle was, and each memory of her parents it held refused to fade as new ones of the team began sprouting.
Then, she gave her body. When she did finally enter the throes of battle, her strength and stamina advantages were still no match for the might of entire armies. She hid bruised ribs and sore joints from the team, took the occasional cut and scar from avoiding the pods.
Occasionally, mirrors haunt her. Allura still can feel her old body, the way it used to be soft edges and graceful curves. As a princess, sheβd been known to slide effervescently across the dance floor.
As a warrior, she breaks.
It only made sense that she would give her mind as well. Though she prefers not to dwell, the nightmares are there. Occasionally, she trembles at a sound or a scent. Goosebumps follow her at every step.
But she keeps stepping forward anyways. No lingering. No hesitation.
So, when the battle reaches its epic climax, when the sounds of clanging and screams drown out every murmuring thing, when Allura can see into that infinity and all its gentle, unwavering lightβ
βshe makes a choice. Isnβt she allowed to be selfish, for once? At last?
Because for all his foolishness. All his pompous, ridiculous commentary. All his lanky, uncoordinated movements and trite remarks and annoying habits.
Lance McClain is a boy who knows how to love. In her final days, after a lifetime of existing for others, Allura wants. She craves. She hungers for a time, a place, a people who loved her. Lance embodies that, shockingly enough, with his kind eyes and his tall, sure embraces.
Allura knows that her foreshadowed sacrifice will hurt him. When she vanishes from this plane, she wonders if people will call her awful for how she hurt him. Unfortunately, she just canβt help herself.
Despite everything, sheβs still scared. And sheβd rather have his warm, gentle, loving touch to guide her into that infinity than nothing. Sheβd like a glimpse of what is promised to her on the other side. Something to make her strong, allow her to slip into false confidence, and stay with her as she takes those final steps.
As she is showered in bright light.
As she hears the otherworldly and powerful.
As the sunlight shimmers down on her.
She turns her face to the warmth, remembering the taste of tears in her honor, knowing she was and will be forever loved. It is peace and it is relief.
Covered in scars, she walks toward bliss, having finally given everything.
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