Ah yes, the start to #CoranWeek. Todayās theme isĀ āThe Gorgeous Manā and he is very much so. This is a redraw of an older piece and I felt it would be a good way to kick off the week!
|My Tumblr||Redbubble|

#dc comics#dc#dc fanart#batman#bruce wayne#tim drake#batfam#dick grayson#batfamily




seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Chile

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Russia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China

seen from Italy

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Indonesia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
Ah yes, the start to #CoranWeek. Todayās theme isĀ āThe Gorgeous Manā and he is very much so. This is a redraw of an older piece and I felt it would be a good way to kick off the week!
|My Tumblr||Redbubble|

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Once More, With Feeling
For @paliseizyās Coran Week! I had this idea lurking in my head for a while, but this event kicked me in gear to finish! Much thanks to @sp4c3-0ddity for her usual encouragement. For the prompts Ship (Coran and an OC, though its not the focus) and AU.
When given the option to try and change the past for Allura's sake, he takes it. It's just a bonus he gets to change Keith's life for the better.
Or, canon compliant Coran time travels and raises Keith in canon divergent AU.
Warning for Major Character Death (of old age, and at the beginning).
Read on Ao3. Roughly 10,600 words.
~~~~~
Coran pauses, arm outstretched to open the door before him.
It hasnāt gotten any easier, his greying hairs an outward expression of his aged body and mind. Although heās spent the trip from Altea mentally preparing himself for this, it hasnāt helped. Even though everyone has greeted him kindly upon arrival heās terrified to open the door, not because of who heāll see - never who - but what.
The grip on the flowers tighten. He must. Heās paid the same to the others, his children by choice, and heāll be quiznaked if doesnāt give Keith the same comfort.
Taking courage from their memory, he turns the knob, hands sweaty under his gloves.
The hospital room is more cheerful than he remembers them being, painted in a beautiful light orange. Vases full of floral arrangements both Earthly and alien crowd the tables and chairs. Coranās heart twinges. Thereās been no visitors lately, only mailed in well wishes.
A nurse with familiar auburn hair leans over the single bed, and upon his entry rises to greet him with a smile. āGood evening, Uncle Coran. Welcome back to the Garrison.ā
Coran nods politely, a smile pushing up on his face. āA pleasure to see you again, Samantha. How are classes going?ā
She beams at him. āAced my last set of tests. Iāll be a doctor before you know it.ā
Coran whistles. That soon? Just yesterday it seemed sheād graduated from secondary school. āSheād be proud of you, all of you kids,ā he tells her.
Her face glows with the praise, a light flush around her cheeks. Quiznak, sheās the spitting image of her great-great-grandmother.
He misses Pidge so much. And Hunk and Shiro and Lance.
And Allura still.
Her gaze wanders briefly to the bed. āHeās just napping, but you can stay with him until he wakes. Heāll be delighted to see you.ā
āThank you, my dear,ā he says, taking her hands in his and giving them a gentle pat. āGive your parents a fond hello for me.ā
She gives him a kiss on the cheek and his mustache tingles with joy. He gives her familial hug before she leaves the room.
With great care he sets the flowers aside to sit on the chair at the bed.
Coranās heart is at ease as he watches Keith sleep peacefully. The man has outlived his fellow Paladins thanks to his Galra heritage, but his white hair, thin arms, and wrinkles are all so human. Time has helped, but itās still hard on his heart to see the young man he met and nurtured, so full of life, bound to bed at the end of it.
To be the last has been a burden on him, one that Coran must soon carry.
Keithās eyes lift slowly, but smiles. āHey Coran,ā he says softly. āIām glad youāre here.ā
Coran pats his arm, careful of the IV keeping him hydrated. āI came as soon as I could, my boy. How are you feeling?ā
Keith cracks a wry smile. āBeen better,ā he quips. āHowās Altea?ā
āGetting along just fine without me,ā Coran jokes back. He hasnāt done much governance lately, a task for the younger generation now.
Keith nods slowly, his eyes focusing on a point on the far wall. āIām tired, Coran. I thought Iād go out fighting.ā He chuckles, smile fond. āI still hear Shiroās voice telling me to be patient.ā
āI think of them too,ā Coran tells him. He files them in the same category as Alfor and the original Paladins now, to be remembered for the vitality and joy brought to his life and the lives of all who knew them. āAllura could have used that advice back in the day, she was quite vivacious as a child. I canāt count the times I had to lure her to the duflax pond or juniberry fields while Alfor worked - she wanted so much to help him.ā
Keith laughs, an easy one that was so hard to come by when they first met. āShe did that and more,ā he says sincerely.
Quiznak, he canāt cry yet. āShe did,ā he agrees as his eyes scrunch shut, holding back the tears.
A hand rests lightly on his. The simple action leaves Keith near breathless, his chest rising and falling heavily. āI want you to do it,ā he rasps.
Coran canāt stop the light gasp that escapes his lips. He knows exactly what Keith speaks of, but, āItās a fantastic dream, Keith. We barely had a chance with all of us, I canāt finish on my own.ā
āLance finished it,ā Keith says quickly.
Coranās eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets. Lance had been no idiot, but to finish what theyād been working onā¦
āHe learned a lot more from Hunk and Pidge than he let on,ā Keith continues. āHe applied some old movie logic and it worked, Coran. We used it on a toy. It was the last thing he did before he...ā
Died.
Coran remembers the funeral well; family and friends around the open casket while the universe outside mourned. His gifted Altean markings glow too brightly for the naked eye and when they look back, his body is gone.
Thereās no wondering where heās gone. His name is carved at the base of the statue of Allura on Altea, underneath Pidgeās and Hunkās and Shiroās - where Keithās will join them one day.
Coranās heat thumps with hope. What was once throwaway gibberish from Slav turned into Pidgeās offhanded theorizing and Hunkās idle tinkering. A chance grew - not just to correct mistakes but to give her a chance, a chance to enjoy the fruits of her labor.
āTime travel is a dangerous beast, Keith. Can is one thing⦠but should we do it?ā
Keith exhales and relaxes into his pillow. He closes his eyes for a long moment. When they open, Coran can tell heās decided.
āIf thereās a chance, we should take it. Please, Coran. Do it for her. Let her live a full life with us. Make sure everyone gets a happy ending.ā
Keith coughs, his body lurching forward, the machine monitoring his heart rate going wild at the sudden movement. Coran steadies him, holds him close until heās finished.
āDo you have everything in order?ā Coran asks as he helps Keith back to his resting position.
Keith catches his breath before responding. āYorak has the blade, you have the key to the lab. I donāt have anything else to take care of.ā
Coran nods and takes the manās hand, squeezing it tight as the intervals between beeps on the monitor become longer.
Keith squeezes back, tears in his eyes. āThank you for being here. I miss⦠I miss the team⦠I miss Mom⦠and I miss Dadā¦ā
āYouāll be with them soon,ā Coran chokes. His own tears filter his vision. Another dozen deca-feebs or so and Coran can start to contemplate when heāll join them. āI know theyād be so pleased with everything youāve done in their stead.ā
Keith closes his eyes and smiles. āDadā¦ā
The monitor flatlines, a term Coran has come to despise. He cries, arms trembling as he holds Keithās hand tight. āRest easy, Keith.ā
Samantha and others come in, but Coran does not move a muscle as they remove the equipment and pay their own respects.
Itās truly the end of an era
~~~~~~
Keith didnāt want pomp and circumstance. Surviving relatives of the Paladins visit while television stations run biopics on all the former Paladins day and night, back to back.
When they close the casket for the last time, Coran doesnāt miss a bright white glow from between the cracks. Coran relaxes. Keith is in good hands now.
After the funeral, Coran finds the strength to enter the lab. Itās mostly unused since Pidge passed on, but one corner clearly has seen more traffic than others.
Coran takes the cut of Balmeran crystal from his pocket, a gift from Shiro.
Sheād want you to have it. Donāt mourn me forever, Iāve made the most of my borrowed time.
A platform unfurls, the design lovingly based off of the IGF-Atlas. He places the crystal on the place made specifically for it.
The machine hums to life and Coran takes a moment to glide his hand along the surface of the pod. It looks so much like Castleās ships and it triggers his nostalgia for Pop-Pop and the days where he traveled with Alfor across the galaxy, and then the universe with Allura.
Thereās only room for one, and the trip is one-way.
The young ones of the generation remember Voltron only in the stories of their grandparents, or parents for longer lived species. Alteans do not live as long as they used to.
The universe no longer has a place for him.
Itās time to do something good.
Coran enters the date theyād calculated so long ago, the point where he can enter their lives early without shorting out the machine. He settles himself into the chair and closes the chamber.
It will be too late for Altea and much of the universe.
But enough time to make things right for the Paladins - for Allura.
~~~~~~
The machine does as itās supposed to. The lab fades away and leaves Coran with a view of the desert outside of Plaht City, the sun setting on what has been a very somber day.
Sparks fly within the machine and Coran jumps out moments before it explodes, engine fried from the trip - as theorized.
Coran gets up and dusts himself off. He canāt introduce himself without looking his very best after all!
Carefully he removes the now blackened Balmeran crystal from its place. It falls to dust in his hands.
Despite knowing this exact thing was going to happen, Coran falls to his knees on the desert sand and mourns. Its an object, he knows, even though it was a gift of the Balmera, but it's his last link to the past.
So eventually, when heās given himself time, he takes a small vial from his coat pocket and reverently deposits the black dust into it. If Coran wishes to see it in its pristine form, he must see it on Alluraās circlet.
A timeline where she lives. He has his mission. For the universe, for the team, for Alfor.
Somewhere out there the Blue Lion waits patiently for Lance, a meeting that will not take place for another several years. Coranās destination is the two story house that looms in the near distance.
A woman answers the door - and his breath is taken away. The long lonely week feels far away as he takes in the most beautiful curly red hair heās ever seen - even his own! He gapes, barely taking in her frazzled and tired eyes. She looks at him as if heās Voltron itself.
āOh thank heavens youāre here,ā she breathes. Her lips too are a pleasant shade of red akin to the second sunset of Altean equinox-- āMr⦠?ā
āSmythe,ā Coran says blankly before shaking his head, breaking himself out of a stupor to shake her hand. āCoran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe at your service.ā He chuckles nervously, flicking his round ear. Humans were so strange. āWhat seems to be the hullabaloo?ā
āThe boy wonāt talk. He keeps himself locked up in his room. He has a knife! Who gives a knife to an eight-year-old?ā The woman breathes heavily, near panic. āI was just about to call the police.ā
Coran takes her hand in his, gently as if they were delicate juniberry petals. āFret no more, my lady. Iāll take care of everything,ā he says with a wink.
And he means it. At the risk of changing too much of the future, Coran has decided on one variable.
The woman blushes and Coranās pride swells. Heās still got it. And Lance called himself the smooth one.
(Number Three never did get to Coranās level of āgameā, though he tried his best to mentor the Paladin.)
She leaves in relief after making him sign some paperwork. He has half a mind to ask her to stay⦠but he has a job to do. Coran climbs the stairs and leans up against the only closed door. Thereās sobbing on the other side.
āItās a bit late for a growing boy to be up, hm?ā He airs.
āGo away! Leave me alone!ā
Coran smiles at hearing the young, but familiar voice again. Inside his heart breaks at how angry, upset, and alone he sounds.
āI donāt have the slipperies at the moment, so Iām afraid Iām staying put, my boy. Are you hungry?ā
Tiny feet scamper further from the door. āNo!ā Keith says, inflection full of anger and tears.
Itās been a very long time since Coran has dealt with a stubborn Keith and even longer since heās cared for children. Allura always reacted well to a distraction though, once Coran found a suitable topic for rambling. Heāll just have to do the same for Keith.
āI hear you have a very special knife,ā he begins. āIād very much like to see it if youād let me.ā
An almost feral growl permeates through the drywall. Humans wouldnāt recognize it as anything more than primal, but it is most definitely a Galra cry for assistance. Heās heard Zarkonās more times than he can count - mostly due to Alforās reckless tendencies. Coran can barely make out the dialect, but itās definitely the cry the Blade of Marmora has settled into over the years.
Though he doesnāt know it, Keith remembers Kroliaās voice.
āSo you can try and take it away from me too?ā Keith spits.
āNot at all,ā Coran assures him. āIām a bit of a connoisseur of weaponry, actually. I could show you a thing or two about your knife. Anyone so protective over their blade is deserving of some tricks of the trade, wouldnāt you say?ā
Keith doesnāt speak right away - he doesnāt need to. He steps lightly to the door, and opens it ever so slightly. His violet-tinted eyes watch Coran with caution.
āAre you telling the truth?ā the boy asks with, for the first time, hope.
Coran doesnāt plan to disappoint. He kneels and meets his gaze.
āI was knife-throwing champion of the Castle for twelve deca-feebs straight!ā he declares proudly. āYouād be hard pressed to find anyone on this planet who knows more than I.
Keithās brows furrow in confusion and Coran can practically see the wheels turning in his mind, none of them hostile. Perhaps heās given the boy a little more to unpack than necessary.
āWhatās a... deca-feeb?ā Keith finally asks.
āA measurement of time for students of the Blade!ā Coran winks, leaning in as if making a fine deal in the Unilu black market. āIāll be able to teach you all that and more. Mind if I come in?ā
Keith stares for a long moment before unhooking a chain and opening the door wide enough for Coran to enter. Itās his bedroom. Pictures of Earth-ships hang on the walls and toys lay scattered across the floor. Keith scrambles onto his bed, holding Kroliaās blade close - the business end blessedly wrapped up. A picture of him and his father lies on the disheveled sheets next to him.
Coranās heart breaks, and is reminded of his mission.
āThank you, my boy. Mind if I have a seat?ā
Keith shakes his head, but doesnāt move.
Coran sits at the edge of the bed, a respectable distance away. āMay I see it?ā
Keith holds it out to show him, slowly, with an edge about him that still doesnāt quite trust. Coran makes no move to take the blade, and gives it a look over. Itās remarkably well preserved. Krolia must have given Keithās father the correct care instructions for luxite.
He hums for a good while, though he already knows what to say. āItās a fine piece of work, perhaps the best craftsmanship Iāve ever seen!ā he declares. āIt must have belonged to someone very special.ā
Keith hardly seems to know what to do with the blade still in his hands. He examines it thoughtfully with the new information. āMy Mom. Dad said that I have to take care of it until I can give it back to her.ā
āYour mother was an excellent swordswoman then. Itās a rare gift, she must have loved you very much to entrust you with her prized blade.ā
Keith holds it close to his chest and looks Coran in the eye. āIs she coming back? I want to go where she is.ā
Coran dares to rest a comforting hand on Keithās back. āYour mother is in a very dangerous place right now, Keith. She wants very much to see you, but youād be in great danger if she did.ā
His eyes widen, but to Coranās relief he does not flinch away. Heās gaining trust.
āSheās in trouble?ā
āNot right this tick, no,ā Coran assures him. āBut there are very bad people who would hurt her if they knew where you were.ā
āOh,ā Keith says, lowering his head, crestfallen. He sniffs. āI want my dadā¦ā
āIām sorry about your father,ā he begins somberly. āHe was a good man. Heāll be remembered fondly.ā
The boyās body shakes, eyes clenched shut. āI donāt want to remember him, I want him here.ā
Coran tries not to feel guilt. If only heād had the power to add just one day to his trip Keith could have grown up with his father. Happy, healthy, and prepared.
Coran can prepare him, keep him healthy, and do his very best to make him happy. Most importantly, he can assure Keith that his mother is out there, and that she loves him.
āI know, Keith,ā he says softly. āEverything is going to be fine. I promise.ā
Maybe itās because he says it with conviction, like Keith himself in his best of times leading Voltron or the Blade of Marmora, or just the blind trust of a child with whom heās started a connection with - a re-connection, but the young boy beside him curls into his side and cries.
Coran wraps his arms around him protectively, stroking his back in comfort, and lets Keith mourn.
This time will be better. For Keith and for Allura.
~~~~~
āWho needs pee-butter and jeyl-lo when you can haveā¦ā Coran whisks out a napkin, tying it around Keithās neck. āA classic Paladin lunch!ā
Coran sets the loaded plate on the table with flourish, directly in front of a wary Keith. After finally admitting to being hungry, Keith allowed Coran to lead him to the kitchen and cook for him.
After decades of exposure to Hunkās cooking, Coran is familiar enough with Earth cuisine - but none of it is as decadent as Altean. Keithās cupboards turn out to be painfully bare of anything heās used to, but after a taste test or five Coran is able to scrounge together most of the ingredients for the classic Paladin lunch.
Keith's nose scrunches in distaste. "Is it... safe?" he asks.
Coran huffs. It's a good thing he's introducing Keith to his cooking early. "Of course it's safe," he insists. He's using all human food, how could it not be safe? "If it was good enough for King Alfor, it's good enough for young Paladins."
The boy gives him a funny look, confusion etched into his features. He wants to ask who King Alfor is - wants to ask what a Paladin is - it's an expression Coran is all too used to seeing from older Keith during meetings and explanations of long extinct civilizations and their politics. But he doesn't, instead choosing to interest himself in the Paladin lunch.
His small stomach rumbles and Keith gulps in apprehension as he collects as spoonful and inserts it into his mouth.
Green Paladin Keith is not, and Coran is fairly certain humans can't turn green either - not like he can.
Keith swallows thickly, and with tears in his eyes practically inhales his glass of water.
Coran waits with bated breath. "Well, what do you think?"
"It tastes like dirty socks," Keith says, sticking out his tongue.
Relief fills him, and he sighs, resting a hand over his heart. "Good. That's an improvement over the sewage canals of Thravia-4." Or, that's how Lance had described it once. He gives Keith a reassuring smile and a pat on the back. "It gets a bit better once you get to the middle bits!"
"...I don't think I'm hungry anymore," Keith says simply, pushing the platter towards the middle of the table.
Coran sighs. He had years still to get Keith on his side. "It's been a long day, my boy. I think you could use a bath and a good sleep."
This lowers his spirits, eyes downcast. "...I miss Dad," Keith says suddenly, a hiccup in his voice. "He gave me a bath and I had sand in my hair and - and - "
Keith tries to hold back his tears. Coran swiftly drags a chair with one hand over and sits on it next to Keith. He gently places a hand on his back.
"Tears are nothing to be afraid of, Keith," he says. "It is how we show love and grief. You will never stop loving your father, missing him is nothing to be ashamed of."
His stomach takes the brunt of the hit from Keith's tiny head, the boy's arms just able to reach around his waist in a hug. Coran wraps his arms around him, anchoring the boy's trembling, sobbing figure.
"It will always hurt," Coran continues, "losing loved ones."
Melenor. Alfor. Gyrgan. Trigel. Blaytz.
"No matter how long or short your time is with them."
Allura.
"But we are the keepers of their memories, the lives we shared with them are stories we can pass on to others."
Hunk. Pidge. Shiro. Lance.
"So they will always be with us."
Keith.
"Miss him and mourn his loss. I'll be here as long as you need me."
"I donāt want to, I want him here," Keith chokes out.
Coran holds him closer. The Keith he knew never received this kind of attention. Coran is determined to make sure he does now.
āYou can want all youād like, Keith, but we still must live our lives. Stay here as long as you like," he reassures. "Then that bath and bed, hm? I think thatās what your father would want."
Keith sniffs, his voice muffled in Coran's shirt, but no less hopeful. "...Then t-tomorrow you'll teach me how to use my knife, right?"
Coran can do one better than that. He can give Keith a history lesson he normally wouldn't learn for another fifteen deca-feebs and he can do it tonight. A lesson about the Blades and of the Galra and of what to expect - things that his mother really should have taught him, but knowledge that will be crucial for his early years in space
"That and more, Keith." He hopes Krolia won't be too angry with him when they meet again.
~~~~~
"You're a brave, kind man Mr. Smythe," the judge says. "We're glad to have you at the agency."
Coran tips his new hat to her and pats Keith's mop of hair. The boy clings to his pants as if he expects to be separated at any tick. He is doubly thankful for the foresight to bring his papers back to the past; without the knowledge of other beings, humans will see exactly what they need to see on his files. In this case, the fact that he's already working with the foster care unit.
And that's enough now that he can adopt Keith. He'll be able to relax for the next ten Earth-years.
"I'm just doing what I can. Need to settle down after that last assignment, and Keith here seems in need of a helping hand."
She shakes his hand. "The paperwork should be nearly done..."
The courtroom doors burst open and - Coranās jaw drops, his heart pounds in his ears. Gorgeous red hair, nearly orange in the halogen lights. Coran holds a hand over his chest as if it will slow his racing heart - he canāt believe sheās here again, the same woman he met at Keith's house the day he arrived in the past. She holds a bundle of papers in her hands. "Sorry I'm late - it took forever to find Keith's birth records. They were at the Galaxy Garrison hospital."
Keith clutches him tighter.
Coran laughs it off. Of course Krolia wouldn't have gone to the Plaht City hospital.
"I'm not terribly surprised, eh Keith," he nudges the boy. "After all the house is much closer by hover bike to the Garrison than the city. A stroke of genius of you to look there in the first place," he tells her with a wink.
Her cheeks flush at the praise and hands the papers over to the judge before tucking a curl of brilliant red hair behind her ear. "Of course, I'm glad to help Mr. Smythe. You've been a great help with Keith."
"Call me Coran," he winks. "We're hardly strangers."
"Synthia!" she proclaims as she shakes his hand. "A pleasure to actually meet you properly, Coran. If you need anything at work, here's my personal number." She smiles brightly at him, a love struck look in her eyes that pulls on his heartstrings.
He takes the card and twirls his mustache. "Perhaps I'll give you a ring and we can discuss work over a cup of tea? What do you think, Keith?"
Keith sticks his tongue out. "I don't like tea."
Coran pats him on the back. Keith never did acquire the taste. "That's quite all right, you won't have to join us if you don't want to." He turns back to Synthia. "Perhaps during the school day sometime?"
"I would be delighted," she beams.
A smug feeling wells up in his chest. He's absolutely still got it.
Perhaps he'll enjoy himself in the past more than he thought.
~~~~~
āMake sure you pack a jacket!ā Synthia says as she shoves one into his chest. āThe desert gets cold at night - surely you learned what while you were stationed in Australia?ā
Coran sniffs the jacket with a raised eyebrow. A recent purchase from a local āthrifty shopā, it smells of smoke - and not that of a campfire. He attempts to hand it back, but her emerald eyes sparkle with concern.
With a heavy sigh he puts it on, if only to ease her fears. It takes only a tick to shift his internal organs into a Yorlanian - a people who adapted long ago to naturally deal with temperature gradients far more severe than that of Earth.
How is she to know that? Heās Coran the human here, and he wonāt be Coran the Altean for another fifteen years.
A deep breath soothes the ache in his chest at that thought. Fifteen years is nothing compared to ten thousand asleep in a cryopod.
āAs you wish, my lady,ā he bows, earning a delighted blush from his target - enough to hopefully take her mind off his long pause. āAlthough, it could certainly use a washā¦ā
āThereās a washing basin at the park you can use.ā
Coran whips around, and thereās Keith at the bottom of the stairs, having descended so silently he hadnāt even heard. Heās dressed for the trip, hiking boots and a red jacket over a worn t-shirt. A backpack sits firmly on his shoulders, his knuckles white as he holds the straps.
He's better; not that he ever will be completely fine, nor should he. Krolia often said she saw much of his father in Keith - brave, selfless, kind, helpful, so Coran knows he hurts.
Hopefully this trip will be healing for him.
"Ah, well fortune is with us then!" Coran says cheerfully. He turns to Synthia. "Perhaps you and I could take a trip into the wilderness sometime."
Synthia clasps her fingers over her mouth, a delighted giggle escapes her. "That would be wonderful. I haven't spent a night under the stars since I was a scout camping with my troop." She sighs longingly. "I miss the fresh air."
Keith raises an eyebrow. "You were in the scouts?"
She huffs, hands on her hips. "Of course I was! Granted it was when dinosaurs roamed the Earth," she says with a wink and a laugh.
This gets a crack of a smile from Keith. "You're not that old."
"Old enough to remember Plaht City before the Galaxy Garrison!" She pinches his cheek, and while Keith tries to pull away, he's grinning the whole time. "You boys have your bonding. Come back with some woodwork - Coran says he's been teaching you how to use that knife of yours properly?"
Amazing how a simple blanket phrase 'teaching Keith to use the blade' could mean both woodworking and how to dismantle a Galra sentry in the same breath. Coran chuckles nervously, faking a wide smile. At least it meant Synthia and Keith got along.
"Come on, Coran," Keith says, grabbing his hand. "The park closes at dusk and we have to get the tent set up before then!"
Coran allows himself to be dragged along by a pint sized Number Four (or was he Number Five right now? He needs to see how the other Paladins are faring without interfering)
"I await our next meeting with bated breath!" he calls out as he hobbles out the door.
Synthia waves. "The house will be in good hands while you're gone! Bring back some good pictures of animals or--" her eyes dart around, looking around for anyone else who might be listening "-- aliens. You know what they say about the desert at night."
Coran doesn't have the heart nor the time to tell her.
~~~~~
Coran has the jacket packed away, far from their campsite.
It's just him and a small Keith, no one else for miles. Their fire dwindles, creating a faint glow against their two person tent. The two of them lay on the gravelly ground, comforted only by their sleeping bags, and stare at the stars.
The constellations are different here, but it's nice to see consistent shapes in the stars rather than constantly changing ones as they're on the run from Zarkon.
Another time.
"That one is Andromeda," Keith says, his arm and finger pointed up at the sky. "But I always look for Orion when Dad and I came out here."
...Shiro told him this one, but he can't remember for the life of him. "Ah," he starts, a bead of sweat running down his temple in embarrassment. "And why would that be?" he asks, saving the embarrassment of not knowing Earth constellations.
"He's got a sword. It's cool." His face droops, eyes on his feet. "And, I think about Mom." Dark eyes meet his, and when Keith speaks of his mother and the stars they glow with a beautiful purple - the only clue anyone will ever have that Keith is not entirely of Earth.
"Do you think that's where she is?" he asks earnestly. "On Orion?"
Coran hums as he thinks about where Ranveig's base is located in respect to Earth. "Actually, I think she might be closer to that Big Dipper." That one he remembers. Earth would name their stars after a ladle.
Keith grins. "Then I'll be able to find her one day if I follow the North Star?"
"I'm positive you'll find her one day, Keith. I know she wants nothing more than to be with you again."
The change in mood is complete. Keith's eyes shine with hope and belonging; he holds his blade close, the hilt wrapped in cloth to hide the Blade of Marmora symbol. "I can't wait."
But he'll have to wait many years before that happens and go through many dangers. In the meantime, Coranās job is to prepare him for them. "Tomorrow we'll start getting you ready. Synthia is right, you'll have to learn to use that properly."
Keith rolls onto his side, facing Coran. "Are you always going to make kissy faces with her?"
Coran gapes. "Kis-kissy faces?" he repeats indignantly. "We have a far more sophisticated relationship than that!"
A tiny nose scrunches in disbelief. "You act like it. She's not mom though, and you're not dad; you promised."
"Indeed! Coran will suffice, or Coran the Gorgeous Man if you're so inclined. I'm sure Synthia would be quite happy if you just called her by her name."
For as long as she was in his life anyway. Did he have time for a relationship when his entire reason for being here was to give Keith a better childhood? He wraps his hands around the vial filled with the remains of Alluraās balmeran crystal - heās attached it to a string, a necklace to make sure its with him at all times.
Allura - and Alfor for that matter - would have told him to enjoy himself.
Keith smiles and closes his eyes. "Thanks for taking me here, Coran. It feels like Dad is still here."
Perhaps he's already done most of the work. Now comes the fun part.
"Get a good night's sleep, Keith," he says, relaxing his hands behind his head. "Tomorrow I'll teach you everything about blades, the Paladin code, and how to extract scaltrite from a weblum."
"... a... a weblam?"
"We'll work on it."
~~~~~
"Coran, check this out!"
Keith rams through the door like a rampaging klanmuirel, holding his Marmora blade up high for all to see. He doesn't bother putting his backpack down, or even taking off his shoes - that'll be even more to clean later! Oh how Coran misses the Castle's automated cleaning systems. Two Earth-years has been nearly undoable. How is he to survive another eight?
Before Coran can say anything, Keith flips the knife up in the air and, in one heart-stopping moment, is about to catch it with the unwrapped blade in his hands.
"Keith!" Coran leaps forward, digging deep in his old age to catch the blade before Keith cuts up his hand. He takes advantage of his Altean gifts and stretches his arms to grab it by the hilt, flipping onto his back as he lands on the floor the opposite side of Keith.
The boy himself has a loose jaw. "Woah," Keith says. "How did you do that?" He seems to blink away his wonder, driving into anger. "Why did you do that? I totally have that trick down!"
Coran stands and hands Keith back his blade hilt first. "You'd have ended up with a nasty cut otherwise," he scolds. Yet at the same time, he feels some pride in Keith showing him his progress. "Youāre under rotating."
Keith frowns. "Oh." He fidgets. "Thanks, Coran. You're the only adult who understands."
"Oh, I can't be the only one," Coran says - though he knows Keith tells the truth in more ways than one. "What about Ms. Norris? She's a brilliant lady."
āSheās my teacher,ā Keith replies glumly, averting his eyes in distaste. āLast time she found out I had a knife she called the police, remember?ā
Coran winces. āEr, yes, that is true. Perhaps you should stop taking it to school. Itās very safe to leave here at home.ā
āI canāt!ā Keith protests. āWhat if Mom comes back and she needs this? Or the bad guys find this place and I need to keep it hidden? I canāt risk it!ā
The determination is admirable, and on any other reasonable planet thatās made contact there would be no problem with allowing Keith to keep a family heirloom - no matter how sharp - on his person even as a child. But this is Earth, who still believe the creatures who live on Mars are green or grey with large black eyes.
(Theyāre actually closer kin with Pidgeās trash nebula friends.
āKeith, listen,ā Coran says as he kneels and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. āI swear by Grogoryās beard your blade will be safe with me while youāre at school.ā
Keithās lips curl in, showing his upset face. āBut Mom--ā
āWants you to be safe. You arenāt if you get in trouble with school. Promise youāll keep it at home until the time is right?ā Because Keith will need it one day.
Gaze dropping to the ground, Keith sighs. āOkay,ā he relents.
Coran isnāt quite ready to believe him. āPromise with your pinky,ā he insists.
Keith rolls his eyes. With pride, Coran watches as he creates the Altean royal symbol in the air with his smallest finger; the most serious of oaths.
āThank you, Keith. That was very big of you. Iām sure youāll have far less problems now at school.ā
~~~~~
The silence in the car is deafening.
Treading down the dirt road, the hum of the (woefully inefficient) engine and tires kicking up gravel seems all the sound in the universe. Itās remarkably similar to the coming of age parties back on Novenia --
Keith huffs loudly from the passenger seat, looking sourly out the window and arms crossed for extra measure. Though his posture is closed off, the huff is Keith speak for āI want to talkā.
They have much to speak of.
Coran stretches his fingers and taps them over the steering wheel, looking for the right words. He tentatively gives Keith a side eye and winces even as he speaks with a nervous laughter, āI know youāre wanting to enroll at the Galaxy Garrison soon, but I thought you were interested in space ships, not cars.ā
āHe stole a Galaxy Garrison vehicle from an officer!ā
This is a teaching moment, another chance to cement in Keith that there are people on his side and that love him - but they must talk about it. Thereās a silver lining to this incident, one that aches his heart.
āItās no trouble, Mr. Smythe. I think all Keith needs is a second chance. Iāll chat with him. Bring him by the Garrison tomorrow and ask for āShiroā.ā
He hadnāt been able to keep himself from crying as he spoke with Shiro (on the phone, not a video call) - seeing the young man (ever so briefly when picking up Keith, and making sure he wasnāt seen) before Galra captivity changed him. Heās the same, still kind and brave.
Coran canāt find the will to caution him about Kerberos. Heās not supposed to know, and whatās more Coran knows what the mission means to him personally - a dream, a way to prove everyone wrong about his capability.
But it only makes inaction hurt more.
If history is doomed to repeat itself, Coran only hopes it changes in the way that matters in the end. For Allura. For Keith to have comfort through the worst years of his life.
ā...Ms. Burnt said I was a liar. She said I wouldnāt do well at the Garrison,ā Keith admits softly. His clenched fists tell of the anger hidden just under his skin.
Coran knows why Keithās teachers say as much. It sends a wave of guilt up his chest; perhaps heās not been a father figure to the best of his ability; too many stories of space and what heāll see out there. Keith still found the same schoolyard fights as in the original timeline.
āI have a hard time believing that,ā Coran says with a bright chuckle. āYouāre a very intelligent young man.ā
Keith scowls. āItās not my grades. The other kids⦠they donāt believe Mom is fighting bad guys, and thatās why she canāt come home and... ā
Ah here it comes. The other kids pick on him for not having his parents around, his mother having left. Though heās told Keith a liquefied version of why Krolia canāt be here, it hasnāt made Keith miss her less, or given the other children or even adults reason to believe him.
His eyes flicker in Coranās direction for hardly a tick, laced with sympathy. āThey donāt understand you.ā
Coranās eyes widen and turns to Keith in disbelief. āWhat the quiznak?ā
A car horn honks and Coran barely swerves the car out of the way of an oncoming vehicle. They roll off the side and into the desert, stopping just shy of a very worried looking cactus.
Keithās classmates are making fun of him?
āUm,ā Keith begins warily, his hands clenched around his seat belt, āsorry?ā
Well, at least he doesnāt look like a - what was that expression that looked like the bi-boh-bi? Ah yes; a āwet noodleā.
But still, why him? He canāt stop Keith from regaling his classmates about his motherās adventures fighting Zarkon - from what he remembers of them anyway. Keith has been in trouble with that before.
āWell, no offense Coran, but youāre a little⦠weird,ā Keith confesses.
His heart stops; the world turns to dust around him. Coran feels as if heās transported out of the car to a world of pitch black, a single spotlight on his heartbroken form.
āIām⦠Iām not cool?ā he manages to gasp. Heās only ever done everything awesome and hip - keeping up with all the trends!
Keithās eyes light up with worry, shifting in his seat to face him. āI think youāre the best!ā he says. āThe kids donāt know what theyāre talking about! Weblums are real - and so are aliens - they canāt prove otherwise! Momās trying to keep them away from here, right? So of course we donāt know about them!ā
This isnāt the first time Coran just wants to tell Keith everything - that heās from the future and in less than four years heāll meet a different version of himself and heās half alien and thereās a war out there and heās going to be a Paladin of Voltron and please do everything in your power to save Allura.
But heās changed enough by telling Keith stories of weblums and Altean fairytales, by just knowing his face. Heāll have to apologize to his younger self if it comes to that - there are sure to be fireworks when they meet and Sendak will still be on their tail.
Still, Keithās enthusiasm warms his heart. For now, keep things on track. Shiro will help him get through the Galaxy Garrison just like before. This time though, Coran hopes heāll make a few friends.
A few specific friends, that is.
~~~~~~~~
āThere,ā Coran says. He kneels before Keith, putting a finishing polish on Keithās Galaxy Garrison lapel. āYou look smart and dashing.ā
The uniform looks good on him, even though heās not yet grown into it. Coran imagines it in red, like heās used to seeing on Keith.
It feels like the beginning of the end.
Keith shifts uncomfortably. āCoran, Iām not sure if I want to go back.ā
āWhat? Quiznak, Keith, whatever for? This is all youāve been talking about since you were yeh-high!ā Coran exclaims, holding his hand above the floor barely to Keithās knees.
At least he gets a laugh out of Keith. āI was not that little,ā he protests lightly.
āWell you sure seemed that way to me,ā Coran huffs before knitting his eyebrows together in concern. āWhy the change of heart?ā
Keith sighs, looking away and down. āThe other kids are just like in school⦠some of them are even from my class. James has them all turned on me.ā
Coranās shoulder slump. That had only been orientation!
āI know itās difficult, Keith, but Iām sure there are some kids who would be glad to be your friend. What about Shiroās friend, Matt?ā he waggles his eyebrows. āDoesnāt he have a younger sister?ā
Keithās eyes go wide. āKatie?ā His face scrunches in disgust. āNo - I - I donāt want to date anyone!ā
Coran knows he shouldnāt laugh, but he does. āI never said anything of the sort. Sheās closer to your age though. Perhaps sheād like to be your friend.ā
Keith clearly isnāt convinced. Coran grins. Itās only a matter of time.
~~~~
āI made top pilot in my class again,ā Keith says with a broad grin.
Coran stirs his tea and sits down at the table, where the video phone shows Keithās proud face. He looks so young and innocent- but he wears the Garrison colors and every year he looks more and more like the Keith Coran remembers waking up to.
āWell done! I told you that youād do it again! One more year and youāll have all five eh?ā
āThatās right,ā Keith says, though he looks away sheepishly. āThe only one whoās ever done that is⦠Shiro.ā
Coranās gut twists unpleasantly hearing the name of the man who will be leaving on the ill-fated Kerberos mission in less than a week.
Then Coran has one year. One year to say the right things.
āThen youāre in good company. Weāll celebrate with ice cream when you come home for break yes?ā
Keith shifts uncomfortably. āActually, Shiroās invited me to stay for the launch, if thatās okay⦠I wonāt see him again for a long time.ā
Oh he has no idea.
āUgh,ā Coran moans, clutching his heart in fake agony. āSuch is the cruelty of teenieboppers.ā
Keith looks nervously to each side. āTeenagers,ā he corrects. āYou sure youāre okay?ā
āSpend time with your friends, Keith. Iāve had ten glorious years watching you grow up.ā
Keith smiles tenderly, āour families are all invited for dinner. Youāre welcome to come. The Holts are coming too.ā
āOh Iām quite fine here,ā Coran assures him. Although he misses Sam and their friendship, he isnāt sure he can look at the man in the eye any more than Shiro. āHave some fun. Iāll be right here when you need me.ā
~~~
That time is four months later when without a phone call of warning, Keith comes crashing through the front door and falls to his knees with tears in his eyes.
Coran hugs him tighter than a yelmore grip and cries too without so much as a word exchanged between them.
~~~~~~
āIām not going back,ā Keith says when he comes down for breakfast the next morning. Coran barely stops himself from gasping, for Keith wears the same clothing that he brings to space one year from now.
āWhat will you do?ā he asks with no judgement.
He already knows.
āIāve always had this weird feeling when Iām out here,ā he begins. āI never noticed it until I started school at the Garrison and it wasnāt as strong as when I come home for break.ā He lifts his eyes, they shine with an alien purple glint, determined. āI think it wants me to find it.ā
Coran nods. āIāll help you.ā
~~~~
It doesnāt take long for the house to fill with papers and corkboard. Keith writes math equations in his journal and Coran corrects them by asking pointed questions. The calculus is beyond what Earth teaches at universities, but itās elementary for an Altean.
He finds the cave of the Blue Lion. Coran aches but comes with Keith anyway. Heās purposefully not come out here; itās too painful a reminder of what is to come - of what he hopes will turn into a happy ending. He thinks the Blue Lions knows, too, Coranās true purpose. The Lions were always smarter than they seem, even when Alfor was molding them.
He canāt help himself; while Keith takes pictures and mutters about what all this might mean in relation to him, Coran lays a shaking hand over an image of the creation of all five Lions. A single figure glows blue, a man set away from the five original Paladins and Allura.
The Blue Lion seems to know exactly who he is.
Itās strange even now to realize he was there in this event depicted by carvings over ten thousand years old.
The thought is just as sobering now as it was when he first woke from the cryopod.
āWhat do you think all this is, Coran?ā Keith wonders from another wall. āWhatās calling me is definitely here but⦠I donāt understand what it is.ā
Coran pulls a thumb over the young woman in the creation picture. He closes his eyes. āYou will one day,ā he promises.
āThanks for the vote of confidence, Coran,ā Keith says softly, with relief.
~~~~~
āI think Iām stuck.ā
Keith sits on the edge of the couch, hunched over and elbows on his knees as he reads the papers on the table. He has taken over the living room with his sketches and calculations. āSomething is coming on December 14 and I have no idea what it is.ā He sighs deeply. āIām not even sure if my math is right.ā
Coran sets down his book; Synthia will want to know what he thinks of it as soon as possible, but his priority is to help Keith. He is perfectly capable of telling Keith that his math is flawless - as Coran has taught him - but there is a better way.
āWhy donāt you ask Katie?ā Number Three will surely take up the task seeing as how sheās already decided to go undercover at the Galaxy Garrison in the next school year (only weeks away now).
Keith looks up, conflict in his eyes. āI couldnāt. She lost her father and her brother on the mission. Shiro was just a friend, itās not the same.ā
Coran looks at him sternly. Not sharing the same blood did not make them any less family, not between Shiro and Keith and not between any of the Paladins. āAnd I am a cooked duflax then?ā Coran teases. At Keithās horrified shake of the head, he continues, āKatie is hurting. You are hurting. You two should be supporting each other, not isolating yourselves. Family is family; blood or not.ā
Keith smiles. āMaybe Iāll give her a call.ā
~~~~~
āYou hammered it, Synthia! It was the butler the entire time!ā
Coran speaks excitedly into the video phone. Synthia on the other side, holding up the latest crime novel theyāve finished together.
āBut you predicted the method!ā she says, bending her knee and clasping her face with excitement. Sheās curled her gorgeous red hair these days and it bounces around her face like a skipping xalax. Coran sighs longingly, placing his elbows on the table and setting his cheek in his palm - she looks even more radiant than the night they first met.
āI mean, to use the ink from the old printer to create the poison in the paint, knowing there would be a dare to drink it? Itās brilliant! How did you guess?ā
āOh, it was as easy as pi! If you remember--ā
The now familiar sound of Keith returning with the hoverbike cuts him off, snapping his attention towards the door.
āKeith is home?ā Synthia asks. She frowns, brows furrowed in concern. āIām worried about him.ā
Coran forces a smile. āKeith will be fine,ā he promises. āHe just needs time to find his place in the universe. Sometimes that can take some looking!ā
Her ruby lips curl up the side of her face. āYouāre the best thing to happen to that boy. Iām not sure what would have become of him if you hadnāt stepped in.ā
āOh, it wasnāt all me,ā Coran admits. No, really his father should take the credit, and Shiro. Heās just repeating it all. āKeith is a good lad, heāll get there with a little guidance.ā
āHe is. Iāll let you see to him. See you for dinner on⦠Sunday, right?ā
Tiny weblums swim in Coranās stomach. This will be a very important dinner - the biggest of his life here in the past. Synthia has been a marvelous companion, and with the days ticking downā¦
It is time he tells her the truth. She deserves to know.
āSunday,ā Coran confirms. Because he means to be gone before Keith returns home with Shiro and the other Paladins-to-be on Monday night. They will already have a more than capable Coran in space. āAnd not a tick past seven!ā
Syntha says farewell as Keith walks in the door. Heās covered in dust - that jacket will need to be cleaned before tomorrow.
(The Castle washing machines wonāt be operational for another week.)
āDid you find everything you need for your outing next week?" he asks.
Keith sets his helmet on the counter and leans into it, exhausted. "I have no idea what's coming, Coran; I'm not sure if I ever could be ready."
Coran hums and takes a sip of his tea. "One is not always ready for what is thrust upon them, but I am certain you will rise to meet whatever challenges that come at you." He winks. "You can be fiercer than a klanmuirel and wiser than a ivorkiv."
A laugh, the first real laugh he's heard in a while. Since before Shiro disappeared. "I don't know how you come up with these things, Coran. Where do you get all your stories?"
Altea won't do, not yet. Coran taps his head. "Right here in the ol' noggin."
"You need to write that book one day," Keith continues. "The one about the princess and the space castle."
Coran smiles. He'd hate to step on Lance's toes. The book will be an intergalactic success. "Perhaps," he affords Keith. "But where's all the fun in letting people look at you like you've grown five heads!"
Keith snorts, and grins. "You'd only need two. You're alien enough as it is, Coran."
~~~~~~
"At least wear a tie," Keith says.
Coran grinds his teeth. Earth clothing is so impractical! The ties on Altea are much more intuitive! "Synthia hasn't minded casual clothing for our rendezvous before and won't mind now."
Keith looks incredulously at him. "This is a big night. If you're going to propose, do it right."
"Who said anything about proposing?" Coran says as he ties the cloth around his neck in a knot.
"What?" Keith spits, surprised. "Coran, you two have been together since I was a little kid."
"And just because two adults enjoy each other's company does not mean marriage is inevitable," he says, slicking his hair back. Pivoting to his side, Coran waggles his eyebrows. Hmm yes, still got the look even with the grey. "I am however, going to ask her to go on an extended vacation with me. She just retired this past year and I want to treat her."
Keith perks up. "Oh? When are you leaving?"
And this is where it hurts. "I'm not sure yet. Very soon. You'll know," he says with a wink. Perhaps its cruel to leave him at this crucial time... but he'll also no longer be needed.
"Did you talk about tomorrow night with Katie?" he asked.
Keith folds his arms, looking away. Sworn to secrecy on her infiltration of the Galaxy Garrison no doubt. "She said she'd be there. I talked her into bringing her flight crew, just like you suggested."
"Oh good," Coran says mildly. Internally he's throwing himself a little party. "More friends for you to make?"
"Oh, I've already met Lance and Hunk," Keith says. He chews his lip. "They were both in my class. We hung out a few times."
Coran fights a large grin. "Oh did you? That's more friends than you claimed to have!"
"We didn't get along at first but... remember when you told me about how being at the top of the class can get on people's nerves? I tried to be calm about it and,ā Keith smiles - genuinely happy, āI think we get along now.ā
Perfect.
ā...You have a good smile, Keith. You should use it more often,ā Coran says. Mostly because he isnāt sure what else to say.
Keith chuckles. āYouāre being weirder than usual,ā he teases.
The car is packed. This is the last time heāll see Keith before he knows everything. If he has it his way, never again. Heāll have his proper Coran and the other Paladins and Kosmo and his mother with him.
Coran wonāt be needed any longer.
But as long as everyone comes home from this war alive, thatās all that matters. And seeing Keith happy has been well worth the wait. He can only hope his lessons come through.
āTonightās a big night!ā Coran tutts back, wagging a finger. āAnd tomorrow doubly for you.ā
The smile Keith so warmly held evaporates to a frown. He shivers, clutching his arms despite wearing a jacket in the desert heat. āI still donāt know what Iām going to find there, Coran.ā
This is the last chance Coran will have to make a difference butā¦
He gently wraps Keith into a hug. The boy greedily holds fast to Coranās shirt; as if he knows this is their last talk.
āYou are smart and brave and kind, Keith,ā Coran says. That part hasnāt changed from when he was a small child. āYou will know what to do because your heart will tell you. You donāt need me to do that.
āBe good to your friends,ā Coran continues as he pulls Keith closer. āDonāt let them go.ā
āIāll miss you,ā Keith says through choked sobs. āYouāll call when on vacation right?ā
Coran sucks in deep, and tries not to cry himself. āI will be there for you any time you need me. I swear it. Just ask. No matter what the situation, no matter how busy I may look, you can always talk to me.ā
Even if itās not him, exactly.
~~~~~~
Synthia takes the whole ābeing an alien from the future thingā rather well - if jumping on him and nibbling on his pointed ears in a quiznakingly fantastic way is any indication.
(She eventually has the breath to say yes.)
~~~~~~
The first stop on their elongated vacation is the nearest national park - the one he and Keith frequented in his childhood. Synthia is in much better shape than he, Coran discovers miserably. Ten years of sedimentary living will do that, even to an Altean.
Coran wheezes, crawling as he lifts a hand to a perfectly nice sitting rock, pulling himself up. Never since visiting Balmera Alpha has he felt such an acute pain to his spine.
But it is nothing compared to watching the Blue Lion lift off into the atmosphere, with five humans in tow.
āWhy didnāt you go with them?ā Synthia asks, cozy next to him on the rock. āIf youāre trying to change the future, wouldnāt it be easier with them?ā
āNo,ā Coran says sadly. āIād be tempted to change too much. As long as they are loyal to each other, everything will turn out fine.ā
She smiles, a wicked one that sends happy chills up his spine, a blessed relief from the burden of waiting. āSo then itās just the two of us then?ā
He turns to her and twirls his mustache. āHow do you feel about Madagascar?ā
~~~~~
Between the two of them - Synthiaās passion for biology and her early scouting days, and Coranās knowledge of everything else - the two make an ecological home in the jungle.
The Galra donāt find them when Sendak invades. It both relieves Coran, and renews the unsettled feeling in his stomach - for now he knows things are happening in the same way, but also things are happening the same way and people are dying.
Coran sees Voltron for the first time in years, flying overhead to combat Sendakās fleet.
He isnāt sure what to feel. Pride, for one, theyāve made it this far - theyāre still a team.
Heās also anxious, asking the same questions of himself that he has been for the last five years. Did Keith find his mother? What became of Lotor? Of Shiro and his clone?
Did Keith hate him when he realized who Coran is? For not telling him the truth about everything?
Synthia takes hold of his hand and gives it a most comforting squeeze as they watch the IGF-Atlas take a pummeling from the combined firepower of five zaiforge cannons.
What Keith thinks of him hardly matters now, he tells himself.
But it still hurts.
~~~~~
Coran is on the beach two quintants after the Atlas returns home.
He lays back in his hammock, the warmth of the sun no longer bothering him after years of it at this angle. Sunglasses shade his eyes and make spotting the Altean shuttle landing nearby crystal clear to see.
He fingers the vial of Balmeran dust he still wears around his neck. He has only two questions.
Rising, his heart skips a beat seeing Keith again. The boy - no, man now - jumps out of the pod along with Kosmo, a sight that is very encouraging.
Still, even though he knows Keith is not quick to smile, the serious way he stalks up to Coran makes jumbles of his stomach.
Kosmo sniffs him first⦠and whines in confusion.
Coran kneels scratches the cosmic wolf under the chin, exactly where he likes it. The wolf sits and whimpers in delight.
Then he looks Keith in the eye, the otherworldly purple tint shining through just as it had when heād talk of space as a child.
āAre you well?ā he asks first. āDid you find everything you were looking for?ā
And Keith melts, knees hitting the sand and arms reaching around Coran for a hug. āYou could have come with us,ā he says, nearly sobbing.
Coran exhales. He must have been holding his breath, for his brain and heart feel light. Returning the hug he says, āYou had everyone you needed with you. The Castle just wasnāt big enough for two of me.ā
His chest tightens - the moment of truth. āAllura?ā
Keith squeezes him and Coranās heart stops. All this for nothing?
No, not for nothing. Not for Keith.
But it hurts. Allura should be alive - enjoying life with the rest of them, her family.
ā...waiting a bit impatiently for me to bring you back to the Garrison,ā Keith finally says. āShe says it isnāt fair for you to be away from us.ā A sob catches in his throat. āI agree. You deserve to be with us - your younger self doesnāt mind.ā Tears of joy give way to quiet laughter. āHe wants to meet you just as bad.ā
Coran lets the tears flow - the first time since he said goodbye to Keith in the hospital and came to the past a lifetime ago.
āHonerva and the other realities?ā he says as he pulls away, he has to know. This reality is obviously fine but the othersā¦
What did they sacrifice instead?
Keith grins, his cheeks stained with tears, wiping them away with the sleeve of his new black jacket. Maybe to reflect his role as the Black Paladin. Or maybe they never did the Lion swap in the first place. Coran doesnāt care. āAllura tried to sacrifice herself; we wouldnāt let her. The Blue Lion agreed, and so did Voltron. The Lions spit us out and we havenāt seen them again since.ā
Voltron sacrificed itself.
Coran canāt help but think back to the day Keith found the Blue Lionās cave - the glowing blue figure of himself. The Blue Lion knew him - why wouldnāt it also know his purpose.
Forged from the trans-reality comet, it knew, and granted his wish.
āThank you, Keith,ā he says. āThank you for bringing her back.ā
āDonāt thank me yet,ā Keith grins back, his eyes soft and kind. āAllura still has a long life to enjoy and youāre part of it - and a part of mine too, with Mom and Kosmo, the others and both Shiro and Ryou too. Whatever you did in the future⦠it was worth it.ā
One name is unfamiliar. āRyou?ā
Keith smiles, clearly pleased with himself. āShiroās clone. Long story.ā
Coran sniffs, inhaling enough snot heās sure heāll be sick later. All thatās left is to find Synthia and travel back to the Galaxy Garrison and heāll be with his family again.
Plus one. He canāt wait to try wrangling yelmores with himself.
If his younger self can pry him away from Alluraās side.
(He has a lifetime and more to make up for.)
Promises
Coran Week 2016 - Day 3: Alforan
Day: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7
Time is an illusion. Totally not stillĀ working on a prompt week from over a year ago. This was just aĀ ālast thought of the dayā idea that just *happened* to fit this prompt, so shh...
āI love you.ā
Allura collapsed into a slumber in King Alforās arms as another Galra attack hit the Castle of Lions. Alarms were blaring everywhere, yet none of them mattered to the two still-conscious Alteans on the bridge.
Alfor swooped Allura up into his arms, her hair falling loosely. He motioned for Coran to cross over to him. āTake her down to the cryo-pods and put her in one,ā he instructed, his tone more urgent now than it had been with Allura.
Coran obediently took Allura from his arms, but looked hesitantly up at Alfor. āWait, what about you? What are you doing?ā
Alfor returned to the helm and tried to maneuver the ship out of enemy range. āWhatever I can. Go, Iāll be down there in a tick.ā
There was no time for confusion or questions. Death waited for them all in Zarkonās cannon should they not escape. Whatever Alfor was planning now, Coran was wise to obey. And pray to the Ancients.
Carrying the princess through the halls seemed easier than usual. Adrenaline, Coran found, had that effect. One elevator trip down two floors, a right turn, then down a hall, and he was in the cryo-pod chamber.
After carefully placing Allura in the center pod and making sure she was upright, he pressed a button and watched the glass cover materialize over her face, casting her in a blue tint.
This was fine, Coran reasoned. Now that he had a moment to mull it over, Alfor probably just wanted to take every measure to protect Allura from the war, the death, out there. And what better place available than a pod that sank into the ground out of sight? Granted, it was one of Alforās more...unexpected ideas, but if they could get the Castle out of danger and do something about Zarkon, then Allura would be out within two quintants, he reckoned.
As Coran fiddled with the podās settings, Alfor briskly entered the room. He looked like he was masking the fact that he was breathless.
āIs she ready?ā he asked, standing in front of her pod.
Coran adjusted the temperature of the pod to cryostasis levels. āAlmost. Just need to set the emergency automatic timer to wake her up,ā he explained, turning to look at Alfor expectedly. āHow long should that be?ā
He shook his head. āDonāt. Someone will be there to wake her.ā
āWhat do you mean? Regardless of that there should still be a timer, especially considering whatās going on.ā The confusion was back. Coran could barely make sense of anything. There was no logic in war.
A sigh. āYou know what? Never mind. Just...ā Alfor trailed off, looking towards the center control panel of the room.
Coran stopped preparing the pod to take a step towards Alfor, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. āWhat is it?ā
Alfor watched his hand for a tick, then grabbed it with his own and, without any warning, leaned in to kiss Coran.
Itād been awhile since theyād kissed, and it caught Coran completely off-guard. He almost stumbled backwards, but Alfor caught him in his arms, pulling him further into the kiss. He pressed into him, feeling his resolve melt as they got lost in each other.
It was a desperate kiss, one that made Coran ache for his king. Everything that he tried to hide while leading the fight against this war, every lost soul on his hands, all shone through. Alfor needed his love to keep him strong, and he was more than willing to oblige. War made people do desperate things.
Thunk.
Coranās eyes flew open to see Alforās lips moving further away. He...was in a different spot than when heād closed them. He was...in a cryo-pod?
He locked onto Alforās sad smile. The kiss. As genuine as it had been, itād also distracted Coran long enough for Alfor to push him into an open pod. And suddenly he was no longer confused.
Coran made to jump out of the pod, but Alfor was quick to press the button to close it, effectively trapping him. He pounded on the glass with a flat palm, shouting, āNo! What are you doing?!ā Now he was desperate.
Alfor raised his hand to meet his through the glass. āIām saving you.ā
āDonāt worry about me! You should be in a pod! Or none of us even! The war, itāll be over in-ā
āIt wonāt,ā Alfor cut him off, sounding too final in his conviction for Coranās comfort. He pressed a few preparatory buttons on the panel off to Coranās left. If only he could snatch his arm away from doing so, put a stop to all this madness. āPlease, Coran, just...please...ā
Coran didnāt even realize heād started crying. Hot, angry tears trickled endlessly into his mustache. He couldnāt let Alfor do this. If he truly thought the war wasnāt going to end, then he shouldāve been the one in a pod. Coran couldāve gotten the Castle out of danger or, at the least, buy the king and princess some time while he fought the Galra himself.
āAllura needs...you,ā he argued through sobs. He could hear his heart breaking in his voice as it echoed in the pod.
Alforās voice was soft now as he altered Coranās sentiment. āNeeds me to fight. If I canāt end this war now myself, then no one can. Itāll be too late. But I need to try. But you...ā The sad smile was back as he brushed the glass once more with his fingers. āI need you to stay with Allura. Protect her.ā
Coran watched him look over at Allura, as if it would be the last time. He wanted to curse out Alfor for his request, because he knew it was one he couldnāt deny. He drew in a shaky breath and leaned his forehead against Alforās fingers. The logical, loyal advisor in him was starting to take over again. He didnāt know how it would end up now, but he still had a job to do.
āPlease, Coran, take care of her.ā
Coran locked eyes with his king. His best friend. His love. For him, he would die for Allura if it kept her safe. āI promise.ā
Alfor pressed the button to start the cryostasis process, his eyes never leaving Coranās. The deep freeze seeped quickly into Coran's skin, yet he found his mouth still operative for one last request.
āPlease come back.ā
There was no promise.
ļ¼Øļ½ ļ½ļ½ļ½ ļ½ ļ¼·ļ½ļ½ļ½ ļ¼²ļ½ļ½ļ½ . || Voltron Season 2
How do you do fellow nerds? My discord is hosting a Coran themed week. Hit up my DMs if youād like to join our Coran lovefest. #CoranWeek

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
A simple Coran for day one of Coran Week! Also, donāt ask me about the background. My brain popped it to mind and rolled with it. And this is my first time drawing him, but not the last.
Coran Week Day One: The Gorgeous ManĀ On DeviantArt On the fanworks twitter
For Coran week, can you please explain the first two prompts?
1.Ā āThe Gorgeous Man.ā Seemed like a nice intro topic, just something nice an open to start off the week. Coran Coran the gorgeous man! Just him in his gorgeous, glittering splendidness. However you envision it is up to you.Ā
Ā 2.āI mustache you a question.ā He seems like the kind of Altean that would love a good pun or dad joke. So take that as ever you like. A little comic, a drawing, a fic whatever!
A side note, a lot of the themes were suggestions from the Corantron discord, and we are a silly bunch of people (who I love dearly).Ā
Pulse
Coran Week 2016 - Day 2: Boot Camp
Day: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7
Hey hey! Yes, I am going to finish Coran Week...eventually... Koa, Makulu, and Hilo are all my Voltron OCs (detailed in the day 1 fic), and Seren of course belongs to the wonderful @notllorstel. :)
āCoran, arenāt you done yet?ā
It was nearly nightfall at the barracks. The purple shadow of an Altean sunset tinged Coranās cheeks from the window as he turned to face Koa, who was leaning against the doorframe to the sleep chamber, his arms crossed. He looked worn out, but still sported his signature playful smirk.
āJust a couple more rounds, Koa. Iāve got this and one other pod to clean,ā Coran answered. He gestured with his cleaning brush towards the two cryo-pods closest to him. Heād been assigned to clean all the pods in this chamber - all twelve of them - before the whole squad would be free for the night. But like always, he was insistent on taking his time and cleaning them right.
Koa sighed and pushed himself off the doorframe.Ā āWell, hurry up. Hilo wonāt shut up about the Quiznik rematch and I wanna prove whoās the champ once and for all,ā he said, then added with a grumble,Ā āIf he hadnāt made me laugh I wouldāve won last time.ā
Coran chuckled and turned back to the pods, fiddling with the handle of his brush.Ā āIāll be right there, promise. Maybe see if you guys can set up the mat in the meantime.ā
āFiiiiine,ā Koa whined over-dramatically, throwing his head back as he slumped down the hallway outside the chamber.
Coran waited until he heard the door at the end of the hall slide closed with a hiss before he returned to polishing the outer edge of the pod in front of him. As fun (and hilarious) as the impending game of Quiznik sounded, he was going to make sure these pods were so clean theyād looked like they were just installed brand new. After all, he was so close to earning his first cleaning stripes. Surely this would cinch them.
Once he finished cleaning that pod, he pressed a button on its control panel and watched as it zoomed down into the ground out of sight. He then turned to his right and straightened his back.
One more.
The last pod, which had been left open so he could keep track of how many were left to clean, wasnāt as dirty as the other pods had been, and would therefore require a little less effort. Still, Coran stared at it like it was some beast to conquer, that once done there would be the taste of victory waiting for him. He once tried to explain this method of motivation to the others in his squad, but they didnāt get how someone could be so passionate about cleaning.
Just as he was about to step into the pod to start cleaning the inside, however, the front tip of his boot caught on the base of the pod. He felt his sense of balance escape him and he fell forward, flying face-first into the back wall of the pod. In an attempt to catch himself, his hands flailed about, unable to grab onto anything in time but just barely grazing the control panel on the edge as he went in.
And pressing the āFreezeā button by accident.
Just after Coranās leg crossed the threshold, the cover of the pod closed down around him, effectively trapping him.
Coran turned around and stared out the blue-tinted glass pane, sighing and slumping his shoulders. āOh quiznakā¦ā
There was a hint of panic bubbling in his chest, but it was overshadowed by something akin to annoyance. Heād heard stories of people falling into the pods all the time (he personally suspected that the threshold was too high), but with the diligence he cleaned them with, he never thought it would happen to himself.
The freezing process was already starting to settle into his skin. With his few final ticks of consciousness, Coran reassured himself that someone would come looking for him soon. After all, they needed him so they could start the game of Quiznik. Itād just be a few rounds in the pod.
Someone would come looking for him.
Right?
Coran was almost nearly right.
When Koa and Hilo opened the pod he was trapped in, and even before the cold began to wear off, the first thing Coran noticed was that the Altean sky out the window was completely dark. So he could deduce that heād been in the pod for at least a good 20 rounds.
As he stepped across the threshold with the help of his friends, Coran laughed, explaining, āBelieve it or not, I tripped and accidentally started the freezing process on my fall in.ā He leaned his hands on his knees, regaining his composure and realizing just how foolish he mustāve sounded. Then he noticed that no one else was laughing. āWhat?ā
Coranās mirth changed to worry as he finally looked up and saw his friendsā sad, sympathetic expressions staring back at him. āWhat? Whatās going on?ā
Hilo gently placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke just as softly, āAlfor called from the Castle of Lions. Heās, uhā¦he has some news for you. It isnāt good.ā
Coran implored with his eyes for more information, but none came, and a sense of dread washed over him. Itād be a while since heād talked to his best friend, since he was busy with official princely king-in-training duties and Coran was off at boot camp as a cadet. Alfor had told him he wished they could talk more often, but he promised he would personally relay any major news. Right now though, Coran had a feeling he didnāt want to hear this news.
Hilo led Coran out of the sleep chamber, with Koa following behind. They made their way to the cadet lounge in the next building over, during which time Coran tried to internally predict what the news was, but no one particular scenario seemed more likely than the rest.
When the doors to the lounge slid open, Coranās eyes trailed over the room only to land on the back of Koaās cousin, Makulu, who was standing in front of a holographic screen floating above a panel of keyboards. Alforās torso filled the screen. His shoulders were drawn down and he looked exhaustedā¦and sad.
Makulu turned around when she heard the trio enter the room, and Coran wished that he wasnāt seeing the tears welling up in her eyes. It broke his heart, and made him all the more worrisome. He hesitated as Koa and Hilo walked further in, before looking back at him to see why he stopped. āGuysā¦whatās going on?ā he asked, almost afraid to know the answer.
Hilo gestured to the screen and walked over to Makuluās side, leaving a spot for Coran to talk directly to his best friend.
āGuys?ā Coran repeated, making his way over to the screen. Had it been any other moment, he wouldāve been thrilled to see the prince of Altea. But now, he almost wished he was still trapped in the podā¦and he hadnāt even heard the news yet.
Alfor sighed wearily when he saw Coran. He tried to muster a sympathetic smile at seeing his friend, but it just made him look more depressed. He sighed again then began, āCoran, Iā¦I have terrible news.ā
āSo Iāve heard.ā As callous as the statement seemed to the moment, it sounded apprehensive, almost unwilling, in Coranās voice. His eyebrows furrowed in worry as he stared at the screen.
Another sigh. āCoran, thereās no easy way to say this, butā¦there was a misunderstanding and, wellā¦Seren got shot down. Iām so sorry, Coran, but your grandfather is dead.ā
Coranās world froze around him at Alforās message. He suddenly felt like heād been plunged into a dream, a terrible, terrible nightmare.
His grandfather, the man who had raised him, was dead.
His mind refused to fully process that sentence. He shook his head repeatedly, trying to deny it. āNo. No, no, no, no, no,ā he whispered. He could feel tears already sliding down his cheeks, but they felt like they were on a deeper level than normal crying. One pulled from the most painful levels of heartbreak.
Coran looked back up at Alfor, who was wincing at his reaction. He couldnāt bring himself to speak, but his quivering lip seemed to get his questions across.
Alfor looked like he wished he could be there to support Coran in person, his own eyes filling with new tears. āIt was last night. Heād flown to a small uncharted system in a nearby galaxy for some rare material for a project. But apparently the planet he was going to thought he was an enemy ship andā¦they open-fired,ā he finished helplessly.
Coran suddenly felt dizzy. He flailed a hand out backwards and grabbed a chair, which Hilo pushed the rest of the way towards him. Sinking into it, his elbows dropped to his knees, and he buried his eyes in his hands, tuning out the rest of the world.
There was no way this could be true. His grandfather may have been a āwild flyerā alone, but he was still an expert at maneuvering any pod out of harmās way. It mustāve been an ambush. Which only made the news that much more difficult to swallow.
āWe already have plans underway toā¦honor him, in a few daysā time,ā Alfor gently offered. āIāll send someone right away to come get you so you can be hereā¦ā
Coran wasnāt sure if heād nodded, let alone if he was even capable of doing so right then. Someoneās hand came up and started to rub his back, but no one spoke.
Seren had meant the world to Coran. Heād been a role model, a mentor, and a father figure all in one. Most of what Coran knew had come from deep-space voyages and long nights spent working on projects with his grandfather.
And now that was gone.
A deep ache bore into Coran at that thought, and his shoulders began to shake with his sobs. If Seren had truly been shot down, there wouldnāt be much of his quintessence left. It would be that much harder to connect with his life force, to just feel close to him again.
Except for one thing.
Coran brought one of his hands down to his chest and placed it just above his hearts. It was still there, hidden by his uniform. A flat necklace Seren had made him as a gift out of a small chip of a Balmeran crystal, infused with quintessence. His quintessence.
As he sat there, hand clutching at his chest, Coran thought long and hard about his grandfatherās memory. Of how he brought life to every room he stepped into, as if he was made of pure quintessence himself.
Soon there was nothing but the necklace and Seren on Coranās mind. He pressed harder and harder against his uniform, willing for something, anything to happen, just to make it seem like he wasn't completely gone. And then suddenly, it did, causing Coran to smile weakly as a shiver ran down his spine.
A tiny pulse of quintessence.

