"Voltron is the universe's only hope."

  That was worse.  He’d have to see if the lions were willing to tell him just exactly what Lance had been talking about.  “Well…the first one, yes.  The second one-no, not at all.  You may be looking for ‘seize’?  Seize the day?”

“No, no, no, you’re getting it wrong! It’s, howdy howdy let’s get fuckin’ rowdy!” Coran cheers.

  He’s trying very hard not to lose it, eyes tearing up.  “Did Katie teach you that?”

Indeed,  he could remember the sound of Alfor’s voice during some of the very lessons that had taught Allura.  Muffled through the sound of a door in front of which he stood guard.  Even so,  the formality of those lessons… How much did they matter now?  So much of what she was taught had to do with the political game between Alteans,  not even close to this kind of situation — he could have said as much,  but…

It wasn’t his species that was the dead one.  He held his tongue.  My people were taught to vent their frustrations as to not lead to clouded judgment elsewhere,  he almost says.  Yes, Sendak,  look at what the Galra venting their frustrations led to.  Say that to her of all people..  Sendak’s expression falters somewhat in a half-grimace as well,  and this time he bites his tongue.  Don’t say that to her.

“ Sometimes brooding is necessary, ”  he offers with a light shrug.  “ What are you going to do,  hold it in forever?  Better you blow up to me than to them. It won’t do you any good to bottle up every emotion outside of what’s palatable to everyone else. ”Sendak frowned at her,  a look that said:  I know you’re not fine.

“Oh, yes, because that’s what makes a good diplomat: letting every rude and unpleasant person know exactly how repulsive their behaviors are! That’s how my father negotiated trading routes with the Unilu of all people!”

The words had flown right out of her mouth. Allura had raised her voice enough for it to reverberate off the walls, and once they bounced back, she grimaced at herself. She had spoken too hardly. Too loudly. The realization gripped at her internals in a way she knew was both unbecoming and unfair.

Taking a deep breath, she began to speak in a quiet voice, “I.. apologize, Sendak. That was unnecessary. I am merely frustrated. I suppose you were correct: it is better for me to blow up at you. Had I said that to the others, it could’ve triggered another squabble.”

Her voice was getting more and more tired by the syllable. She ended her apologies with a sigh, and then trekked over to one of the plush chairs of her room. She sunk into it quietly, resting her chin on her hand as her focus was lost to deep, deep thought.

while this practice has likened them to many, it has also perturbed others—driving them to assume alteans are either deceitful for “never showing their true selves” or conniving for “trying to invade the masses.”  it was common to hear about a friend of a friend who knew an old woman who had her baby stolen by an altean posing as her partner, relative, caretaker, or even a guardian angel-type right before reverting back to their “true” monster form.

Allura has been pacing in shifts. She’d sit, for a tick, before she began to fidget. The emotions swirling in her chest demanded action. Allura could feel it in her arms. It surged up and down her forearms and her fingers, too. They kept bunching up into fists, but Allura was quick to flatten out her hands and smooth them against each other. She couldn’t give into such base urges as fury.

It was unbecoming of a leader.

However, Allura was caught on that brat’s—no, no, she couldn’t think of her allies, much less her paladins, in such terms—Pidge’s deplorable attitude. Was she a feral child? The other humans seemed to at least have some understanding of the authority reserved by a princess, whereas this “Pidge” took what could only be assumed endless glee in undermining any and every attempt Allura took to connect and direct.

It frustrated her. It made her angry. It made her want to act against the girl. It had already made her act against the girl. And Allura was endlessly disappointed with herself.

A good leader should know better. A good leader should’ve acted better. Yet, here she was, 10,000 years late to a war, and bickering with the supposed saviors of the universe.

Allura has jolted up to pace even more, when Sendak had finally indulged her. She blinked, having forgotten he was even in, and then cursed herself for being  so obviously torn.

“No, no.” Allura responded with a tight face.

“My father taught to be a diplomat. It is better to act than brood, and sometimes, the best action is inaction. I know this. I should be using this time to better strategize my approaches. I thought my mine were already MORE than appropriate, yet some would disagree with me. Perhaps it’s only due to their own immaturity, but.. No, no! I am beyond this kind of gossiping.”

She stared at Sendak, growing tighter and tighter in the face. She meant to be smiling bright and wide, but instead ended up with a sort of half-grimace/half-glare. Her voice started to flutter around the edges, too, as Allura struggled to not let her frustrations bleed into her tone.

Allura would best be suited as either the BLACK PALADIN or the YELLOW PALADIN.

The Black Paladin because while she is still growing as a leader, she shows all the hallmarks of a natural-born one (i.e., bravery, loyalty, etc.), who only deludes her decisiveness by her own second-guessing in light of her father’s legacy.

The Yellow Paladin because she is caring, hoping to nurture the universe (Albeit to a toxic degree); kind, feeling compassion for those hurt in her absence; and more than willing to put the needs of other before her own, sacrificing at almost every corner of her personal journey. 

A fatal flaw of Allura’s is her idealization. She had idealized her father, and she had idealized the Galra, too. It started with Zarkon. She grew up hearing story after story of Zarkon and his amazing leadership. She grew up watching Zarkon prove himself to be an amazing leader time again and again. It only made sense for him to be the Black paladin. It was hard to imagine a Black Paladin that wasn’t Galra. The Galra officers and civilians she met through her childhood emulated so many of the same qualities she saw in Zarkon: strong, brave, loyal. They were bred to be both great leaders and warriors.

It was a joke, among Altean nobility, that Altea was the brains and Daibazaal was the brawn of their alliance. Allura hated this joke, because she hated Galra being so underestimated. Yes, the Galra have a lengthy history of war, which has produced a more so brutal culture, but there was more nuance to them!

They weren’t aggressive but defensive.

They weren’t oppressive but structured.

They weren’t bloodthirsty but strategic.

Allura use to defend the Galra tirelessly against even the most minute of criticisms. They were such a constant presence in her life that they were an extension her people. Once upon a time, she thought it was impossible for there to be an Altea without a Daibazaal or a Daibazaal  without an Altea. They were two, separate planets, yes, but they were so intertwined in every other way that it just wasn’t possible for one to exist without the other.

Now, though, because of the war, she doesn’t believe in such nuances or connections. The Galra are aggressive, oppressive, and bloodthirsty. They weren’t bred to be great leaders and warriors but terrible tyrants and murderers. They might as well burned down their other half.