Fluffy Voltron: Legendary Defender nonsense! Shiro and random OC! Because SpaceDad needs all the hugs! Doesn’t fit anywhere in the show and that’s okay!
Actually it’s not really what I was expecting, especially the serious parts. I’m a bit disappointed. It’s probably partly because I’ve had a long, tiring week, and I’m sick on top of it. And it’s Seppuku Week on top of that. And Akuliina keeps trying to tempt me over to her story. Stahp!
Part 1: The Green Girl
“No, no, no…” The planet was rushing towards him, but he only saw glimpses of it through the crackling, static-filled displays. Whatever gravitational/accelerational compensators the Black Lion had were failing, and he was being pressed back into his seat. The damage they’d taken was too much, and they were crashing, he had no control, the Black Lion had no manoeuverability, even if he’d been able to exert any pressure with his left arm. “Come on, buddy…”
He clipped the emergency safety belt around his chest and prayed, bracing for impact.
He was… warm, and… mostly comfortable. Aches and pains everywhere, his ribs, his legs, his shoulders. Not his artificial arm. The wounds on his left arm still stabbed into him, but not as raw and searing as before. He could hear birds of some kind, distantly, and the wind though leaves, as if through an open window, and a soft scratching sound closer by. He could smell wood, and grass, and sunlight, and other, stranger, fainter smells – it suggested some kind of disinfectant. His mouth tasted foul; he needed water, badly.
He could feel rough blankets under his fingers, could feel bandages wrapped around his head, bandages wrapped around his left arm. His body wasn’t encased in armour anymore, but soft clothes that felt like wool. He was definitely lying in a real bed of some kind, soft and giving in an oddly crackly way. Would his eyes open?
Yes, but it was brighter than he’d been expecting, and he shut them again with a grunt. He’d caught a glimpse of wood above him, a wooden ceiling, maybe?
He heard a gasp, over on his left, and cautiously opened them again. He wasn’t expecting an enemy, not when he’d clearly been rescued and taken care of. Over on his left, squinting against the light, he saw…
A female, young-looking, but she was green. Green skin, green hair – was it waving on its own? Hair didn’t move like that, even in the wind, and there wasn’t that much wind in this… hut. Tiny house thing. She was staring at him with blue eyes with pupils like four-pointed stars. And she was wearing a pastel pink tank top and shorts, with a yellow scarf.
“Ah! Um, uh, hello…?” the girl – woman – green alien female managed to say, trying something that resembled a smile. It was a pretty handy thing that most life in the universe seemed to have developed common body structure, common facial features, and common expressions…
He blinked dazedly at her. “Hello.” They were in a tiny house thing, as he’d noted briefly before, made of wood, with wooden furniture carved in a simple fashion. There was a little window across from him, through which he could see blue sky, and an open door a bit to the left, through which he could see a sunlit grassy path and the hint of a small village of wooden huts, and the girl was sitting at a desk with a big open window in front of her with sunlight streaming through soft white curtains. Beyond her was something that looked like a fridge, and another window, and cabinets. One of them was open, revealing small bottles and jars. They didn’t look like food, more like medicine.
“Oh, oh, you’re awake! For real this time! Oh, and your voice is deeper than I was expecting,” she cried, and scribbled something down on the desk in front of her. Her hair was definitely moving on its own. There was an extra pencil in it. She turned back to him, her shoulders scrunching up in a shy manner. “H-hi! H-how are you feeling?”
“Um. I… I’m all right.”
“C-can you be more specific? I’ve never worked on a h-human before, and um… I-I don’t know if I missed something…?”
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” he said slowly. “Lot of bruises, I think, and those cuts, but you seem to have taken care of them. This bed is comfortable. I could use some water?”
“Mm, mmhmm?” She scribbled more notes, then got up and brought him a water bottle with a bendy spout so he didn’t have to sit up to drink. As he washed out his mouth and sucked down the cool refreshing drink he’d been craving, she went and perched back on the edge of her chair, staring at him curiously, her hair curling up around her head as if it was also curious.
“You a doctor?” he asked.
The green of her cheeks turned slightly brighter, a little more yellowish – was that a blush? “Y-yes, I’m still in training, but I’m the most senior student here s-so they let me take care of you as my final project. Y-you don’t mind, right?”
He managed a reassuring smile. “No. You’re doing fine. I think. I’m not a doctor.”
She giggled awkwardly. “Th-thanks. I mean, I’ve heard of humans, but everyone knows they haven’t developed interspacial travel yet so, like, you’re… kind of mythical, and the chance to work on one…”
“Guess I should be glad I didn’t wake up in some kind of lab, huh?”
She flinched, her bright expression dimming for a moment, even though he’d meant it teasingly. “We don’t believe in that.”
“You seem kind of flustered,” he said, trying to help her calm down.
The blush returned, much stronger. “W-well, it’s… not every day a… an exotic handsome alien falls from the sky in a robot quadruped.”
He laughed, wincing at the ache in his ribs, and felt a blush spreading over his own face. ‘Exotic handsome alien’? How flattering. “I’m afraid you have the advantage of me,” he said, and began trying to sit up. “Who are you? Your people, and you specifically…?”
“Oh, no, don’t get up yet!” She sprang from her chair and darted towards him; he flinched from her rapid approach, but her small hands were on his shoulders, pressing him back down, and he relented. But she hadn’t missed the flinch, either, and she was standing awkwardly above him now, holding her hands as if afraid to touch him. “I just… You’ve had a concussion, and you’ve been unconscious for a very long time, and, um…”
“It’s okay,” he told her. Sitting up was too much work right now anyway, especially with his arm. “I was just startled.”
“O-okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She seemed spastic with nervous energy, and she fidgeted with her scarf. “So… yeah, who are you?”
Oh, right!” She jumped, then went to drag her chair closer to his bed., then checked his pulse, pulled down his eyelids and looked critically into his eyes. “I think you’re doing okay for now… Um, let me see. You’re on the planet of Teler, and we call ourselves Telerans. My name is Elslince, and I’m a doctor-in-training for the Resistance. And you are?”
Hey, alien names that he could pronounce. Well, he could pronounce ‘Allura’ and ‘Coran’ and ‘Altea’, too, but he’d come across some… He test mumbled ‘Teler’ and ‘Elslince’ under his breath just to be sure before he answered her question. “Ah, you can call me Shiro. I’m… Hm. I’m a Paladin of Voltron.”
Blue eyes widened. “Oh, what’s that? It sounds important.”
Their legend hadn’t had time to spread to this planet, it seemed. Well, the galaxy was a big place. “Voltron is the Defender of the Universe. It’s many thousands of years old, and it was lost for a time, but my friends and I found it again just recently. It’s…” This always sounded silly. “It’s a group of five robot lions that combine to form a giant robot man. It’s the most powerful weapon in the universe.”
She made a grossed out face. “Ew, weapons.” She gasped. “Wait, so that robot quadruped we found you under… that’s a weapon?” Her face turned horrified, maybe a little frightened, too.
“Wait, didn’t you say you’re a member of a Resistance?”
She drew herself up as if offended. “I am a doctor. In training. When I’m through, I swear never to touch a weapon or to harm a living being through wilful intent, only to heal any and all who have need of my skill. Even though I work for the Resistance and support them with all my spirit.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, you know, that’s really great. Doctors are important.” Maybe not so much on the Castle of Lions, with their… ‘magic healing tubes’, as Hunk put it, but back on Earth… yeah, they still needed doctors.
“Don’t patronize me,” she said with a pout.
“I’m not trying to, honest. I’m sorry for offending you?”
She blinked, then looked guilty. “I’m sorry for getting offended. I guess you’re doing something similar to the Resistance, then?”
“Who’s the Resistance… resisting?”
“Zarkon,” and even her open face grew stony as she said the name.
He nodded. “Yeah, we’re fighting him. Trying to defend as many people as we can against him. Trying to free those he’s oppressing, disrupt his troops, his ships, trying to take him down one piece at a time.”
“Is that how you were injured, how you came to crash here?” she asked softly, with a glace at his injured arm.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry for getting upset about weapons,” she mumbled, dropping her head. “What you’re doing is just as important. I’m personally 100% against them, but we need them to fight Zarkon, I realize, it’s just… I wish we didn’t have to.”
“I wish we didn’t either,” he said. “We’re doing our best to do it quickly, so that fewer people suffer for less time, but…”
“There’s only five of you,” she said. “I get it. Five of you… against an already-conquered galaxy.”
“It’s a tall order,” he said, smiling wistfully. He was starting to feel sleepy again.
She noticed. “Well, um, I’m going to let you get some rest, okay? Concussions aren’t good for brains no matter your species, and you need lots of rest before moving around again.”
“Okay,” he said. “I… good night?”
“Is that how humans say it?” she asked, with a giggly smile and a glance out the sunlit windows. “Sleep well.”
“Thanks,” he said, and closed his eyes.
When he woke again, she was leaning over him, frowning. She jumped back, and her hair jumped back, when she saw he was awake. “O-oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!”
“I don’t think you did,” he mumbled groggily. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I think you were dreaming. Your… your REM was crazy, and you were mumbling something. Something about Zarkon, I think. Were you dreaming?”
“I don’t remember,” he said. He couldn’t even remember what the tone of the dream was, if he’d been angry, or scared, or anything. “Can I have another drink?”
After a couple days, she let him out of bed. He could probably have gotten up sooner, but she was clearly worried about working on a kind of person she’d barely even heard of before, let alone met. He could understand. He’d be nervous too, if a green person suddenly landed on Earth and he didn’t know how they worked.
He went first to check on the Black Lion. It had parked itself nearby, in a position of repose, and its force field wasn’t up. It must trust the people here. Well, he trusted the people here, and he and his Lion shared a bond, so that made sense, right? They didn’t seem to have messed with the Lion at all, although every day it seemed the children of the village came to play under it, staring up in fascination at its sleek metal joints.
He tried to send a message home to the Castle of Lions, but he had no contact. He’d have to try again once he left the planet’s atmosphere.
The village was larger than it looked, hidden in thick woods in a little valley between mountains. There were even some more high-tech looking buildings, some kind of synthetic material painted in brown and green to blend in. She showed him around, showed him off to the other people in the village, took him to meet her teachers, who poked and prodded him even more thoroughly than she had. They were all green, with brown or green or yellow eyes with star-shaped pupils, and they all had long, expressive hair like her.
But the important parts of the day for him were the walks they went on, not even for his recovery – he was recovered, he was pretty sure, besides his arm, and that was just a matter of time. No, it was just because they ended up talking about any old thing and hours went by when they did. It was something he hadn’t done since before his capture, he felt, and it was nice just to be there with someone for once. Sure, he’d had moments with the team, with Pidge, with Keith, but never for very long – there was always something to do.
And she seemed really interested in him beyond professional curiousity, and he had to say he felt rather the same. “So… your hair. It’s so short! How do you cope?”
“Huh? What do you mean? Like how yours moves on its own?”
“It’s not moving on its own, I move it,” she said. “You really can’t do that with yours?”
“No, I can’t,” he said.
“Can I touch it again? It’s so weird! But it’s really soft. I like it. Why is it two colours? Is that normal for humans?” What did she mean by ‘again’? She’d probably touched it while he was out cold, when she was patching him up.
He chuckled and bent down so that she could run her fingers through his white forelock. She hesitated before she did. “No, not really. When humans get old, their hair slowly turns white or grey from whatever colour it was before, but this was brought on by stress.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” She frowned, thinking hard, her fingers still stroking his hair, venturing to the top of his head, where it was even shorter, and to the sides of his head, where it was slowly outgrowing its military crop. He needed to shave it again. He tried not to react to the sensation of small textured fingers brushing his scalp, but he caught his breath anyway. She didn’t seem to notice.
“So how do you control your hair?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation moving. “Does it have nerve endings in it? Does it ever break off or fall out?” It really wasn’t much thicker than regular human hair.
She pulled her hands back from his head and held up a finger, and a green tress curled around it. “Sure, it breaks, it’s normal. It doesn’t hurt, no, there aren’t nerve endings anywhere in it. So sometimes it’s difficult for us to feel what we’re picking up, but we can’t carry heavy things with our hair anyway. I’m not sure if I can describe how we control it, if you don’t already know…”
“Okay,” he said. “You can even carry things in it, that’s amazing.”
“Well, you know, pencils and small tools and things. I can’t imagine not being able to use it in my profession. Most people use it constantly.”
“So I guess there aren’t a lot of bald people on this planet.”
“What’s bald?” She looked up at him with adorable innocence.
“Um, when someone has no hair on their head at all. It happens naturally to a lot of male humans, especially when they get older.”
“Oh, no!” She seemed quite shocked. “That’s going to happen to you? I’m so sorry!”
“Probably not me. My dad had a full head of hair last time I saw him…” and he wasn’t going to see him anytime soon. He probably thought Shiro was dead. Don’t think about depressing things in front of pretty girls. “…and baldness is a genetic trait. Anyway, we can’t use our hair for much besides… attracting mates, I guess, so it’s not a big deal. In fact, some people shave it off on purpose for aesthetic reasons.”
“That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” she declared.
He laughed. “Okay, so can I touch your hair, then?” He held out his left hand, palm up, towards her.
She glanced away, and the yellow blush returned.
“No? Is it something rude to Telerans?”
“N-no, it’s just…”
He raised an eyebrow. “You touched my hair.”
“Y-yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I? But I was professionally curious!”
“Can’t I be curious about your hair? Even if I’m not a professional?”
She grumbled to herself, pouting again, but tendrils of her hair crept towards his hand and twined around his fingers. It wasn’t as soft as it looked, kind of a dry, scaley feeling. The loops coiled and shifted, tugging slightly at his hand, squeezing his fingers gently. It was extremely strange and bizarrely intimate.
It seemed she felt the same, because she wasn’t making eye contact again, and the yellow blush was stronger than ever.
“That’s really neat,” he said, trying to put her at ease. “Thanks for showing me.”
“Y-you’re welcome,” she answered as she drew her hair away again, but it was a while before their conversation returned to its normal flow.
Later, he asked about the Resistance, finally. “How long have you guys been fighting Zarkon?”
“About fifty years,” she said. “We’d just developed interstellar travel, begun meeting new species, and it brought his attention. I can’t say how well my people stack up galactically in terms of warfare capabilities, but we have definitely been losing.” Her expression was hard, a mixture of anger and pain.
“Fifty years is a long time,” he said.
“Ten thousand years is a long time,” she answered, referring to Voltron. “Fifty years is nothing in comparison.” She looked away from him. “This valley is one of the last few hideouts we have to train in peace. All our doctors and medics get trained here before we go to assist the fighters. We’re completely outmatched, but we’re not giving up yet.” Her head dropped. “But it’s probably only a few more years before we’re completely overrun. Maybe only a few months. That’s what they tell me, anyway.”
And yet she hated weapons so passionately. “What happened to everyone who’s not fighting?”
“Those who are captured or conquered become enslaved, forced to work in big horrible factories to make more weapons for the Galra Empire. They’re kept on very tight leashes: constantly watched, living in prisons, and they cut their hair.” Even if it didn’t physically hurt the Telerans, it seemed a big enough part of their culture he understood her expression of horror. “But that’s not why I hate them.”
“Why do you hate them?” he asked in a low voice.
“Because they killed my sister,” she whispered, shoulders rigid, hair pulled back and coiling between her shoulderblades.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“She fought in the Resistance. She was the brave one. She had the courage to pick up a weapon and aim it at the enemy. And they killed her. She died fighting them. …It was always our plan, you know, that we join together, and I patch her up after her fights. But she was older, and couldn’t wait… and now I’m trying to follow our plan without her counterpoint.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “Was it recent?”
“Two years ago,” she said. Two years ago, he’d still been on Earth, training for the Kerberos mission.
Her shoulders were shaking, her fists were clenched, her hair coiled in knots, and she was definitely not looking at him, trying to show strength in the face of the alien guest. Time to change the subject. “You said this valley is a place you can study in peace, and it’s really lovely. Is your whole planet like this… when it’s not being invaded?”
She smiled wanly, recognizing his strategy, relaxing a little. “So I’m told, or at least large portions of it. The parts us Telerans like to live in. Or at least it used to be.”
“Is there anyone in your village who could tell me more? I’d like to know as much as I can before I go back.”
“I guess you could ask the leader, Bormon. I follow the news, but I don’t like talking about it. I’ll have to get over that when they deploy me, I guess.”
“I’ll talk to him, then. Thank you. And… thank you for telling me.”
She mumbled something in return.
He did notice that she wouldn’t touch his artificial arm, and avoided it if at all possible. Was it because she could tell it was Galra? Was it because most of the stuff here was made of natural materials and his arm was definitely not a natural part of him? Surely she wasn’t bothered by prosthetics, as a doctor. He didn’t ask, not now, and tried to keep it away from her. Sometimes he forgot, since he was right-handed. But he did his best.
It had been a week since he’d crashed on the planet – two days unconscious, two days in bed, and another three days up and about. He was as better as he needed to be to get home. The team would be worrying about him, since he hadn’t been able to contact them yet. He’d spent far too long distracted by Elslince and her starry blue eyes. “It’s time for me to leave,” he told her that evening, having changed back into his armour, his helmet under his arm.
She grimaced regretfully. “I knew you wouldn’t be here for long.” But her bright smile returned. “Thanks for letting me work on you! It’s been an extremely educational experience and I’m sure to pass my final exam.”
“I’m glad,” he said sincerely, and they were both trying not to think of what her future would be afterwards. “I’m grateful you took care of me.”
“And it’s been really nice to meet you,” she said. “I never thought I’d meet a human, ever, and you’ve been really nice. I hope all humans are like you.”
“Every human’s different, but a lot of them are good people,” he said, with a chuckle. “And it’s been really nice to meet you, too.” He paused awkwardly, then reached for her hand. “…Look, Elslince… As soon as I can, I’ll come back for Teler. …For you and your people.”
She glanced up at him, her hand limp in his. “Others have been fighting Zarkon longer. Have been enslaved longer.”
“Yes, but your people haven’t given up yet. That’s a legitimate reason to help you, too. If all the peoples in the universe oppose Zarkon, there’s nothing that can stop us. And Voltron is on your side.”
“Someday I’ll see it,” she said with a little smile.
“Someday soon,” he promised, letting go of her hand. “I mean it. As soon as I can.” He had spent some time with the village leader, asking about the state of the overall galaxy, but even with his prior knowledge he still didn’t know enough to make a concrete campaign plan. He was a lieutenant, not a general. And he wasn’t even that anymore, not by Galaxy Garrison standards, not since he’d been captured.
Whatever. He’d figure it out. He had to. He’d feel awful leaving these good people to fight Zarkon by themselves, when she said they might not last a few more months.
He’d feel awful leaving those pretty blue eyes to face war and death alone. Well, not alone, she’d be with her people, but… without him to help. She’d already lost her sister. Was this how Hunk felt about Shae? Except with less denial?
“Maybe I’ll see you then,” she said, with a little smile.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t think of anything good to say. “Well, see you then.” He offered his hand again to shake. He wanted to hug her, but that was too intimate for their short acquaintance, and he didn’t know what her species thought about hugs.
But this time, she took his hand firmly with both hands and some of her hair. “Be safe.”
“I will. You too.”
The planet looked awful as the Black Lion rose through the atmosphere into space. The little patch of sunny green he’d come from was so small compared to the rest of the planet, large swathes of which he could see from space had been burned or covered with smog. He felt anger coil in his gut. To cause such destruction on such a tremendous scale… That couldn’t stand. Not against such a people… not against anyone.
A proximity alert went off. Galra fighters were bearing down on him. He wanted to vape every one of them, but he had to get out of here. He had to return with Voltron. Had to make a plan, find out how to meet with the Resistance leaders, find the best use of their limited resources, how to use Voltron most effectively in a ground war…
The best use of his resources now was outrunning his pursuers. He gunned the thrusters, heading deeper into space, skimming past the laser blasts aimed at his tail. “Castle of Lions, come in. Can you read me?”