(From Ashes) Chapter 19

        Pride: From Ashes
            Chapter 19
            For the Lost

The sun had just barely started to crack the horizon when Hunk left the Falcon. He hadn't slept well. Perhaps more to the point, he had slept—but he'd had dreams. Dreams which had thrown certain things he'd been trying very hard not to think about at him, which was just rude. It was hard to distract himself here, what with no loud music or recreational explosives to be had, so he was trying to just walk it off.

Wasn't working.

He was keenly aware of what he wasn't hearing. Yellow's presence was strong, but he was silent. And while Hunk appreciated that unusual show of restraint, he was pretty certain he actually needed to talk to his lion about this.

"Hey Yellow?" A purr of acknowledgment answered. "Look, about the ghost thing. I know you said it's rare, but… I mean, if…" Unsurprisingly, putting questions he didn't want into words wasn't working very well. "Look, you know what I'm gonna ask, yeah? Can you not make me ask it?"

The lion gave a growl that was not unsympathetic. "Your thoughts are racing, Earthwarder. But yes, I believe I gather your question."

Great. "And…?"

"Spirits and the factors that grant them rest are very complicated. In the case of the invaders, I knew easily what they required; they were in my desert, after all." He paused as if searching for words of his own. "Few are the spirits which cannot find rest from either being returned to the earth, or being offered some commemoration from the living."

"Commemoration," he echoed. That sounded awfully broad. "Like a funeral?"

"I cannot answer in such specifics." Of course he couldn't. "And to answer your true question, no. I do not know the disposition of your fallen friends. But I can attempt to investigate."

"…You can what?" No, he had not yelled that nearly loud enough. "You can what?! That's not earth, dude, that's light years! A lot of them!"

A moment before Yellow's bemused growl, he was reminded that his lion had once hinted he might know about sandstone bats.

"…Yes. The earth spans many realms; these things are not so linear to me as they appear to you." Again the lion was searching for words. "There are worlds within worlds, Earthwarder. You and your people have known this."

That was… vague even for the lions, really. "I don't follow."

"Consider it this way: I cannot explain the intricacies of life and death to you, any more than you could explain the underlying functions of what you call 'hyperspace' to me. But we can observe and understand their effects, and work with them."

Hunk blinked. That actually did make sense, except… "Did you just tell me metaphysics and quantum physics are the same thing?"

"That is not what I said." Yellow growled contemplatively. "But it may be accurate."

"Great, I think." None of this conversation was un-overloading his brain, though as things around here tended to do, at least it was moving him on to different questions. Exhaling slowly, Hunk noted that he'd wandered his way to the grill. Always a good place to be, though it would've been better if he'd had something to grill. Shaking his head, trying to get his jumbled thoughts back together, he was vaguely aware of his eyes glowing.

Which he would not have believed he could only be vaguely aware of a week ago.

"That is progress."

"That is weird."

"Weird?"

Hunk jumped, spun around, and found himself on his backside staring up at an equally startled Allura. "Oh! Heya, Princess!" Without missing a beat, he jumped up and grinned.

Allura grinned back, giggling a little. She'd been wandering a bit aimlessly herself—still calming down from all the excitement of the day before. Early morning was the best time to have a few moments to herself. But when she'd heard a voice somewhere nearby, she could hardly help but go have a look.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just heard 'weird' and couldn't help wondering what you might be referring to." Whenever the offworlders invoked that word, it seemed to mean something interesting.

It was all Hunk could do not to burst out laughing. "Not gonna lie to ya, almost everything is weird. Hasn't been all that long since we started in on all the crazy magic stuff." Shrug. "Though what I was sayin' just now was that it's weird that that stuff doesn't seem weird anymore."

She tilted her head; he supposed he deserved the confused look she was giving him. "Ah…? I hope that means it's 'weird' in a good way."

"I think so." Getting used to the glowy eyes was a good thing, at least—hadn't the lions said something about that calming down once the bonds were complete? He wondered what ever happened to that, not that it was a priority right now. "You're pretty much used to the magic stuff, yeah?"

"Of course." She smiled, and the blue sparks in her eyes seemed to glow faintly. "It is a part of Arusian life. Not in a grand or conspicuous way, but always present."

Nodding, Hunk considered his next move carefully. This was the princess of a destroyed planet, it wasn't the most sensitive subject to bring up, but… he couldn't just not do it, either. "If ya don't mind me asking, anything you can tell me about, uh… ghosts?"

Yellow gave a mildly offended growl, and he attempted to scowl. In his brain. It didn't go very well. Dude, I believed you, I'm tryin' to get somewhere here.

"Mmm…" She didn't seem upset by the question, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Not every Arusian can see them as such. Most can see their energy, but only as a ball of light. I, on the other hand, see them clearly. Many of the noble lines have that ability." She frowned. "It can be very… uneasy, especially when one doesn't expect it. Why do you ask?"

Hunk was oddly reassured to hear that someone who was used to magic could still find this uncomfortable. "We, uh…" He exhaled slowly, choosing his words. He had not brought this up to whine to her. Just to try to settle the unwelcome thoughts. "We kinda left three of us back on Korrinoth, you know?"

The princess nodded. Though she knew only the broad strokes of what had happened to the Earthlings in Drule custody, that was a rather key point. They, too, have faced loss.

"Just wanna be sure we didn't actually… leave them there. Someone who oughta know says a 'commemoration' might help, and well…" He shrugged sheepishly, looking up at the castle. "We haven't really had the chance to do the memorial thing, what with the mess we were in."

"You wish to have a… memorial… thing?" Allura echoed, wanting to be certain she understood correctly. It was clear he was struggling with this subject.

"Yeah. Which," Hunk's tone was a bit chagrined, "feels a little silly sayin' that here." How many Arusians had gone without commemoration? "But…"

"No, I don't think it sounds like a silly thing. Certainly not a bad thing." Allura followed his gaze to the castle, and could guess at what exactly he was thinking. There had been so much sorrow on Arus… but that was all the more reason to allow those who could a moment to mourn. "How would you have this memorial?" She didn't know anything about Earthling practices.

Neither did Hunk, really. "Good question." He would not be asking about Arusian funerals, this was depressing enough as it was. "I'm no expert but there's probably no 'right' way to do it, yeah?"

Allura hid a faint, sad smile. Most near the Crown would say there certainly was a right way to do it; indeed, hadn't they made it a priority for the High King and the Prince once they retook the castle? Certainly more 'correct' than the desire she still had at times to go scream from the mountains. But that very urge made the answer of what was truly correct clear. "It should be however you think would give them ease. And yourselves."

Okay, apparently he was asking for funeral advice from the Arusian. Though what she'd said was probably what he would've come up with sooner or later. What it entailed, he still wasn't sure, but that part wasn't up to just him. "Boss says there's some scout stuff goin' on to find out how far we can take the lions? Any word on how long that's gonna take?"

"Perhaps the day." A few messengers had been sent out the night before, to fetch some needed clarifications. There had been a possible trouble spot shaping up. "Almost surely no later than tomorrow morning."

A day. Today, no less. Would that work? Even putting aside the fear of wandering ghosts on Korrinoth, it felt like something that needed to be done. The team was still quietly haunted. And it seemed like a good bet that the proper application of robot felines would be keeping them very busy very soon…

"…Think it would be okay to sneak a little memorial somethin' in the meantime? Not like we haven't done plenty of thinking on 'em as it is, but somethin' official would be a… relief, I guess." I hope.

Was he asking her permission?

This time, Allura couldn't hide the soft smile. She had no innate authority over the Great Lions or their pilots; she had been content to trust the lions and their shared goals. But the offworlders seemed to feel she should have authority. And while that was logical enough where the lions themselves were concerned…

Only a true sense of duty to Arus would require them asking her permission for this.

"If you feel it is needed, then please do." Keith's concern came back to her, and she smiled a little wider. "We need you to care for yourselves, also."

Hunk smiled back, still feeling a little sheepish. "Thanks."

"Where would you have it? I can make sure you aren't disturbed."

That was another good question, actually. "Uhh." In the Falcon? That didn't seem like the place. Looking back at the grill, he shrugged helplessly. "Probably right around here?" It was kind of their little enclave, he supposed, and was as good a place as any.

Again, Allura followed his eyes and nodded in understanding. "Very well. I will see to it that you aren't bothered, unless it is very badly needed. Is there any other help I can give you?"

"Nothin' I can think of. Thanks, Princess." She'd given him more help than he'd expected, or even planned on asking for. "We'll cuss some Drules out extra for everyone while we're at it."

That she had no doubt of; she did better at hiding the chuckle this time. "I should go and check on the intelligence gathering, then." The sun had fully risen, they were likely getting back to work by now. "I hope your memorial will be of help to you."

Hunk shook his head slightly as she walked away, murmuring under his breath. "Me too, Princess. Me too."

*****

You know the forest, Keith had said. Can you do a little job for us, he'd said.

Pidge had said yes to them both, even though the first was an overstatement and the second had—what was the phrase? Buried the seed? No, that didn't make a damn—lede! Buried the lede, that was it.

Buried the seed, mijtairra. Obviously this 'little job' was weighing too heavily on his mind.

Keith wanted him to find saplings. For a memorial. It was some kind of human thing, Pidge supposed, and he would do his best to fulfill the task. He just found everything about it either confusing, irritating, or both.

Speaking of both, his annoyance at saplings all but evaporated when he reached the bottom of the Falcon's ramp and looked up to see Larmina.

"What do you want?" Maybe she'd come to talk to someone else. Anyone else.

No such luck; she walked right up to him. "Show me the Usurper shrine."

Pidge looked at her blankly. He hadn't entirely expected her to take him up on that at all, let alone so quickly. He also hadn't anticipated having something else rather time-critical to be doing. "It's not a good time right now—"

"—Don't care." Larmina had been tossing and turning and trying to convince herself she wasn't interested for entirely too much of the night to take not a good time for an answer. It was a bad idea, surely. But angering the Golden Gods didn't seem to matter much—fat lot of good they'd done Arus since the Drules came—and the mystery was outweighing even her protectiveness of her forest. "You asked."

…It would be rude to tell her to fuck off, wouldn't it?

"I would answer that, but I am uncertain whether 'yes' or 'no' makes you more likely to do it."

Snort. "Fine. You can come. But I have something else to do in the forest, and I'm doing that first. Then the shrine." His priorities were logical. "In case you get hurt again."

She huffed indignantly but didn't object. In fact, she didn't even speak until they'd nearly reached the trees. But part of her was curious, and part of her was ready to offer him help so they could get whatever this first thing was over with faster, so…

"What you're doing that's so important?"

No sense pretending that was a secret. "Looking for memorial saplings."

Larmina frowned, wrinkling her nose slightly. "Saplings?" She couldn't quite parse the word.

"Baby trees," Pidge translated after a moment of thought.

"Oh." The Arusian took a moment to consider that, then snorted. "Memorial baby trees? Trees aren't right for that."

Shrug. As if he knew anything about the topic. "Okay, what's the right way to do it, then?"

…Well she'd walked right into that one, hadn't she? Glaring at him as they entered the forest, she decided she didn't have much choice but to answer. The other option was letting him one-up her, and that was no option at all. "Back in the… where I come from, we have the tradition. Someone dies too early, you find a plant like them and plant it in a special garden. Not a tree."

Dies too early? Pidge scoffed quietly. A ludicrous concept—the idea that there was an objectively correct time for someone to die. But he couldn't actually bring himself to say it aloud.

Objective or not, three of them had damn well died when they shouldn't have.

Though he'd mostly asked to shut her up, Pidge found himself seriously considering the rest of what she'd said as well. Finding a plant 'like them', whatever exactly that meant, did sound more fitting than saplings. More personal. Hell, Flynn hadn't even liked trees. For that matter, this was an ancient forest, would it even have saplings? He hadn't seen any yet.

Hells with it. He was changing the mission in response to new information, and if the commander didn't approve, he supposed he'd just have to come back.

Okay, Green, where would I find three unspecified plants of strong sentimental importance?

"Follow the winds, my cub. You will find what you seek."

…That was probably the only answer he should've expected. "Okay." His eyes glowed momentarily, and his instincts abruptly began pulling him to the northeast. "This way, I guess?"

Larmina followed. "Lion is guiding you?"

"Yes." Well, sort of.

"Looks like to the river."

River? He blinked and didn't say anything; she was flaunting her superior knowledge of her forest, no doubt. Big deal. He'd been here for less than two weeks, what was he supposed to know about it?

Green seemed amused. And sure enough, after they'd walked for a bit, he could hear rushing water in the distance.

Pausing for a moment, he gave Larmina a questioning look. If she wanted to show off what she knew, he was fine with gathering information.

"Almer River," she named it after a shrug. "Goes from the here through the mountains, feeds into the lake. Cuts the Thunder Ridge out from the rest."

His attempt to put a map of the area together in his head was coming together slightly more. That information would probably be better-served if he delivered it to Sven, though.

For now… he could smell the water, and another minute of walking brought them through a stand of trees into…

"De chyle."

It was almost like walking into another world; only the shade from the towering trees a ways from the banks made it clear they were still in a forest. Where the river had cut through it had destabilized several large root systems, and their trunks now laid across the water covered in moss. The banks, cleared of those trees, didn't seem to have sprouted new saplings—instead, they were thick with smaller plants, flowers and shrubs that grew in small clusters of sun or shade.

"Told you." Larmina smirked.

"I wasn't doubting. Now let me think, if you want to see the shrine any time soon." There was so much here. Where did he even start?

Plants like them.

He stopped, looking up and down the banks of the river, breathing slowly and letting his vision fall into soft focus. Searching for anything that might jump out… what caught his attention first was something that looked like a red cross out of the corner of his eye. Turning to it, he found a cluster of long, narrow red flowers; two of them were overlapping. No, not what he needed. He started to walk along the riverbank, falling back into his unfocused state.

Larmina watched him, frowning slightly. It didn't really look to her like he was looking very hard, but he was obviously seeing things. His next stop was at a bed of tykat flowers, and he fingered the velvety silver petals for a few moments before shaking his head.

There wasn't much she could do to hurry him along at this point, so she watched—and snagged some of the tykat flowers, they were useful in the caves.

Pidge had probably gone thirty feet down the riverbank when something caught his eye that kept it. A pale green-gold plant ringed with slim thorns; no flowers, just well-protected leaves that grew in pairs. "What is this?"

"Vaern bramble," she answered, looking over his shoulder. "Very dangerous." She'd been stuck pretty badly by one early in her forest explorations. She had not done it again.

So of course, he was digging it up. And really, if he'd thought about what he might be looking for, he'd known all along Jace would need something with thorns.

He could relate, he supposed.

As for the others… what would he want for them? The metal-looking flowers earlier had been a thought, but… well, Flynn's dislike of anything with pollen was going to complicate finding him a plant.

Sure, that's what's going to be hard about this.

As for Cam… he frowned slightly. His first thought wasn't necessarily inspired, but he didn't think this search was about creativity. It was about accuracy. So he carefully adjusted the bramble so as not to risk stabbing himself, and looked back at Larmina. "Okay, show off your forest knowledge. I need something that looks like stars."

To his surprise, she brightened immediately. "You need constellation vine!"

"…Sounds promising?"

"This way." Constellation vine wasn't something they needed in the caves—but it was distinctive, and had been a popular decorative plant before. Larmina had taken note of it dozens of times in the forest, and knew it particularly liked the yukol trees. It didn't take long to find some, and on the third tree they checked, there it was.

Pidge startled a little; he had not expected the name to be quite so apt. A cluster of very dark leaves and tiny white star-shaped flowers, creeping eagerly up the tree to reach the sun… he nodded and carefully detached it. "Perfect."

Despite herself, Larmina grinned.

And that leaves one. He exhaled slowly. The hardest one, of course. How the hells am I supposed to…

"You will find what you need, Windseeker."

What I need. He doubted that, and might've yelled about it if he were alone. Instead, he headed back to the river. More of the silver flowers were there, and all manner of others… no, he didn't want flowers. There had to be something…

More walking. More plants that weren't quite right. Larmina kept wondering if she should ask what he was looking for, but based on the very different plants he'd stopped at, she wasn't entirely certain he knew. So she followed.

Then he stopped so abruptly she ran into him, and yelped something she was pretty sure was profanity—and wasn't directed at her.

"…Found something?"

"I think…"

There was a small bend in the river, a stream that poured over a fallen log into a sort of mini-waterfall. He'd been attracted by the sound, not a sight. But there it was, nestled next to the log. A fern-like plant with bright violet leaves, shot through with deep red veins. It was so simple, and yet somehow it was everything he'd been searching for.

"What's this one?" he asked softly as he started to dig it free.

"Koec plant," she answered, tilting her head. "Not usually in the forest. Likes foothills better."

For maybe half a second, he couldn't help a small grin. Flynn wouldn't like the forest either. The smile didn't last as he carefully finished digging it out, swallowing back a wave of guilt. A plant couldn't change the facts… but it did seem like a better way to honor him than most of what he'd done around here.

"…Okay. This is everything." The vaern bramble poked him as he adjusted the plants he was carrying, and he could actually hear Jace yelling at him. "Let's go find the shrine."

Turning around, they saw two golden eyes peering through the darkness. What, no more 'follow the winds'?

"This way seems safer."

Fair enough, he supposed. Exchanging nods with Larmina, they started to follow the banewolf deeper into the trees.

It didn't take long to reach the clearing. Pidge was surprised; he'd fully expected to have to pull Larmina away from some mysterious power again. But she walked beside him without any trouble, and when the banewolf stopped he paused and set the plants down beside it.

"Protect these for me?" he asked quietly, and the wolf yipped its agreement.

While he was doing that, Larmina had moved forward. Through the undergrowth, and to the clearing… and she didn't know what she'd expected, but what she certainly hadn't expected was something that was actually, obviously, a Usurper shrine.

"Dovoyat polesta…"

"Creepy, isn't it?"

She couldn't even bother with bravado. "Yes." Shivering, Larmina was torn between two overpowering urges. One was to run. Nothing good could come of this place. The other was to move closer. It felt almost like something was drawing her forward, despite the skeletons and the shrine's dilapidated state and the knowledge that this was a terrible idea…

Stepping over the small mud barrier, she approached the overgrown structure. Her cheeks hurt for a moment, then it seemed to fade; running to catch up with her, Pidge noted that her markings were glowing. So too were the colored sparks in her pupils—a darker turquoise than the rest of her eyes.

Green?

"I see it."

As she walked into the structure, he was seized by a new concern. "Don't touch the pedestal!" Immediately after saying it, he regretted it; he'd probably just ensured that she would touch the damn pedestal.

Larmina was entirely too creeped out to be that contrarian right now. If the alien with the robot lion said not to touch the pedestal, she certainly would not. She couldn't even explain why she was entering. But she circled the pedestal warily, then knelt to see if she could make out any of the writing… without touching it. It all looked like the old tongue, and she had definitely blown those lessons off…

"The name of the goddess was Avira the Lifebinder."

Larmina jumped at the voice—as much because there was a voice at all, for the first moment. Then the realization of whose voice it was hit, and she snapped her head up in shock.

Queen Orla stood on the other side of the pedestal, her expression both grim and sorrowful.

"Mother!"

"The secret was your birthright," the ghost murmured. "You should have been told on your wedding day."

Not even the mention of that ill-fated wedding could distract Larmina right now. "What secret?" The name of a Usurper? That made no sense…

"I cannot say now." The queen shook her head. "It should not… have been this way…"

The image of her mother was fading. But Larmina could see that her markings were glowing too, despite her being a ghost. "What do—why can't you just give me a straight answer? What do I need to know?!"

"You know what you need most, Larmina. Survive. Fight. In any way you can. You will see…"

She was gone.

"Dovoyat pol—"

As far as Pidge was concerned, Larmina had been yelling at empty air in Arusian. But given what had happened to him the last time he was here, he didn't even find that strange.

Is this helping your theory?

"I think so."

The lack of an unqualified yes there tells me you aren't going to explain it to me.

"I cannot yet." The lion's frustration was palpable. "There is still something missing."

Larmina whirled around. Her skin was crawling and the words were echoing in her mind. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

That much Pidge was more than ready to do. "Let's go." Leaving the clearing in a hurry, he retrieved his plants and watched the banewolf vanish into the shadows.

You will tell me what the hell just happened when you know, kir sa tye?

"I will, Windseeker. You have my word."

They left the forest even more quietly than they'd entered; Larmina was still trying to make sense of what she'd heard. Birthright? Avira the Lifebinder? What in the five hells? Why did no ancient mysteries ever just say what they meant? Well, maybe they wouldn't be mysteries then but that would be fine—

A flash of color caught her eye as they neared the forest's edge, and she stopped dead. "Wait."

Pidge stopped, frowning, but didn't need to ask what was going on. Larmina was already approaching a cluster of flowers.

She'd seen these flowers before, of course. They were common in the forest. Each petal had a pale blue heart, surrounded by reddish orange. A fire lily—the wild ancestor of the Seven Isles' famed fairy lilies. For a moment she was drawn back to the manor gardens. Her home. The painstakingly tended beds of fairy lilies, the memorial garden commemorating centuries of loss and remembrance…

The certainty that all of those were gone now struck moments later, and her eyes narrowed. Fucking sinycka. Suddenly she very badly wanted to help the offworlders make this garden, just to tell the Drules where they could shove their attack. It wasn't much. But she couldn't do much, what with mythical robot lions taking the lead.

Survive. Fight. In any way you can…

This she could do.

"Can arrange to get you one of the old castle gardens," she said slowly, "if you let me plant the something too and don't ask questions."

Pidge blinked, and opened his mouth to say absolutely not. It wasn't even Green's reproachful purr that stopped him. It was an echo of his own advice, that sometimes he even remembered to follow.

Let them reach out.

If that was a trade she wanted to make, he at least owed it to her and his team to bring the offer to the others.

"…I'll ask."

*****

After his brief chats with Hunk and Pidge, Keith had spent some time hunting through the galley. They had a lot of empty food storage; finding three large, sturdy containers that they could temporarily plant saplings in had been easy enough. Of course, the point was to plant them somewhere permanent, but they'd need to ask the Princess about that. For the memorial, something symbolic would do.

Pidge had seemed confused by the premise; Keith hoped the others would be alright with it. Maybe he should've asked everyone, but their time was limited—they definitely did not have time for their standard bickering session. So he'd made a command decision.

"It is wise, Stormsoul. It is harder to mourn when one must think about how, as well as why."

That was probably true. Left to their own devices, they'd all just been letting the wound fester in their own ways. So, saplings and temporary planters it was. He'd gone ahead and taken them out to the grill.

Now it was just telling the others…

He found his officers together, at least, chatting in the rec room. Lance brightened a bit when he entered. "Hey, boss. You need me for anything? Otherwise I'm gonna go fly." There had been something about waiting for some intel before flying more, but maybe he could get around that by pretending it didn't exist.

That was definitely not going to work. "Actually, we're going to need everyone in a bit. We're… going to have a memorial service."

"Uh. What?" Lance swallowed, feeling his heart suddenly pounding.

At the same time, Sven lifted his eyes to meet their commander's. "We're what?"

"Yeah." Keith nodded, letting Black's purr steady him. "It's short notice, I know. But we've put it off for long enough. I think it would be good for all of us."

Sven nodded, though it was not really a nod of agreement. More of an acknowledgment that he was hearing the words. Next to him, Lance was still trying to swallow back the wave of trepidation.

"Why now…?"

"It was Hunk's idea." Their engineer had been cagey about why he'd had the thought, and Keith hadn't pressed. "But he's right. It should help us all with some sort of… closure. And we need that sooner rather than later."

"Might be right…" Lance fought down a little shudder. He could understand the theory, hell, he could see how it might help the others. He just didn't feel ready for closure—despite or perhaps because of how much his lion had been forcing the issue.

"Your grief is a fire," Red growled softly, and he swallowed hard again.

"It will be good for the team," Sven agreed slowly, quietly. He was still absently nodding.

"Not you?"

I didn't say that.

"You didn't not say it."

Keith looked between them and decided their reactions weren't unreasonable. It wasn't easy. "I asked Pidge to gather a few saplings we could plant for them. He should be back before too long. Maybe."

"Saplings? Really?" Lance laughed despite himself, and held a hand up to stop Keith from defending his decision. "Unsure if Jace would want a murder garden memorial. Think I like it." Yeah. Focus on Jace.

Sven, who was none too certain he wanted Jace being the focus of anything, just kept nodding. Though the thought was kind of funny.

Even Keith chuckled. "Hopefully this will be more agreeable." Then he sighed. "I've been trying to think of what to say, but it's… difficult." They should still be here. What else was there to say?

"I wouldn't know either, boss." All the things you'd want to say should've been to him… stop! Fighting the thought down, Lance rubbed his forehead. Was it hot in here? Was it just him—his lion, or his nerves? "I don't know."

"Yeah." Keith started pacing, hoping to at least take the edge off the emotional energy. It was no time to lose control now.

Sven was not having much of an emotional reaction at all, just a slightly numb acceptance. He wondered if that should make him concerned. Or was it like seeing Romelle in that jacket, a sign of some sort of healing?

Closure…

Closure didn't have to involve speeches, that much he was sure of. "If you can't think of what to say, maybe that means you don't need to say anything."

"Yeah." Lance sounded a little more hopeful. If he didn't have to say anything, he might be able to stand this. "I mean, none of them would expect a bunch of glowing bullshit. Right?"

"They probably wouldn't," Keith agreed. "But I don't feel right not saying at least something." Nobody else had to if they didn't want to—but if nobody else could, it was his duty. The burdens of command.

"Wing it, boss. We wing things, right?" Their pilot was attempting a level of cheerfulness, or at least smirkiness. You're fine. Perfectly fine.

Wing it. That was probably what it would come down to. "Alright. Well, we're going to have it out near where Hunk has the grill, I think." It was as good a landmark as any. Like their engineer, he hadn't felt like having it onboard the Falcon would be quite right.

"Have the others been informed yet?" Sven asked, drawing a grimace from Lance.

"Yeah, uh, is Daniel good? He was pretty close to Cam, maybe I should check in…" Focus on anyone else.

Keith winced too, but shook his head. "You two are the first I've found since I talked to Hunk, other than asking Pidge to go find saplings."

"I can go find everyone," Sven volunteered immediately. He wanted something to do. Sitting around waiting for this memorial could only make things uncomfortable. "What time are we meeting?"

A wonderful question. "A couple of hours, at least. Maybe noon?" It was difficult to tell objective time from anything but the sun, anyway. "I don't know how long it'll be before Pidge gets back, and it'll give everyone time to… prepare, a bit."

"Ah, yeah." Lance kept the snort to himself. This certainly was something that needed to be prepared for; a couple of hours wasn't going to do it for him. The past several weeks sure as hell hadn't. "Fuck, this is gonna be weird."

"I know. But we need the closure." Lance didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't argue either. "So, meet by the grill at noon. That's what we'll do."

Nodding, Sven left to start searching for the others. The task would help him right now. Lance had no such task—and spreading the news wouldn't have helped him anyway—so he just shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. "A couple of hours to get ready. Yeah."

"Yeah." Keith sighed. "I'll go find Hunk again, see if we can find something shovel-adjacent."

Lance nodded too. Because he was fine.

Which lasted for about five more seconds, and then Pidge appeared from the elevator.

"Commander, plants changed—er, plans changed."

Both of them blinked and turned to look at him, not quite comprehending. "Huh?"

"Green's forest is thousands of years old and the outskirts were burnt away in the attacks. I didn't see any saplings."

"You know I could have guided you to some if you'd wished, Windseeker."

Do not undermine my technicality here, thank you.

Neither officer seemed to think it had been an unreasonable obstacle, anyway. "That makes sense. So, what did you find?"

"Flowers," he held up Cam's, "and not-flowers," he held up the others. "Or I can tell you the names, but I don't think that helps any more."

Lance's eyes fell on the thorny plant first. "That one had better be for Jace."

"You can tell?" the ninja asked brightly. I did a good job! "Larmina says that memorial gardens are a tradition in parts of Arus. You're supposed to find plants that remind you of the people."

Keith had frozen; now he stepped forward and reached out to touch one of the tiny star-shaped flowers. "They'll…" He looked at the other two and shivered. "They'll do, Pidge."

"My sister's cub is quite resourceful."

He always is.

Smirking a little, Lance also moved up to look at the other plants. And he regretted it instantly. For what felt like a very, very long moment, all he could do was stare at the red and violet leaves.

"It's purple," he murmured without meaning to.

"…Yes?" Pidge agreed, tilting his head in bemusement. The koec plant was indeed purple. When Lance didn't say anything more, he turned his attention back to Keith. "Larmina also said she can 'arrange' to let us plant them near the castle, if we'll let her plant something and not ask questions about it."

That surprised Keith more than anything else in this exchange so far, and he considered it carefully. On one hand, the memorial would be… sensitive? Personal, at least. On the other, if Lady Larmina actually wanted to be part of something they were doing, it felt like it should be encouraged. And more to the point, they were bound to Arus now; to share their grief could only bring them closer.

"I think we could let her do that," he said finally, nodding. "I'm sure she isn't the only one who's lost someone who could still be memorialized. I'll ask to make certain no one objects, of course." He turned to Lance—may as well start there—and found him still staring at the violet plant. "…Are you alright, Lance?"

He hadn't heard a word of that, and didn't intend to start. "So, uh, noon. Yeah. Um, I've gotta…" No, he didn't even have the composure for an excuse, and fuck it—did he really need one? He turned and bolted.

Pidge blinked, looking at Flynn's plant, then back to the door where Lance had disappeared. "I thought it was okay?" Right, okay, that was why he'd cursed about it. He'd felt like he got that one right for sure.

Frowning, Keith turned back to him. "It is. I think you found good alternatives." Looking after their pilot again, he let out a long breath. "This will be harder for some than for others. We're all still hurting in our own ways."

"Indeed you all are. Wounds will heal. Memories remain."

But that's not really helpful right now…

Black softly growled his understanding, and said no more.

"I prepared some temporary planters for the saplings; they're out by the grill. Can you go ahead and put the plants with them?" They might still need to use the planters, depending how the others felt about having an Arusian at the ceremony. If not, it was at least a place to start.

"Yessir," Pidge agreed, and left again.

For a few minutes, Keith just stood alone in the rec room, running his hands through his hair. "We need this," he murmured to the silence. "It's going to be hard… damn hard. But it has to be done. It should've been done a long time ago."

Closure. For the mourning, their loss, though of course it still wouldn't heal everything. And for their escape, in a way… an official farewell to those they'd left behind, before they started taking the fight back to those who'd killed them.

Finally, breathing more easily, he went looking for Hunk.

*****

The sun was high over the castle grounds as the team started to arrive—nobody in any big hurry, but nobody noticeably late, either. Keith had been first, moving the temporary planters from the grill to a plot of empty dirt not too far away. He and Hunk had cleared some debris and overgrowth from it while waiting for word to go around. This had once been just one of the Castle of Lions' dozens of flowerbeds… now it would be their official Arusian-style memorial garden.

It seemed like an awful lot of ground for their small cluster of plants. But everything had to begin somewhere…

Vince was second to arrive, and was nodding at each of the plants in silent approval as the others began to file in. Pidge, who'd planned to sneak in late on the fringes, but somehow found himself arriving with Hunk instead. Romelle, feeling a little awkward—she hadn't known the three, but she had seen them die. It felt like she owed them her grief, in a way, even without anyone of her own to be mourning.

That you know of. She shook that aside.

Sven and Daniel had both arrived with notes. Sven had a letter; he had a lot to say to Jace, it turned out. He just had no intention of saying it out loud. Daniel, on the other hand, had a lot he wanted to say out loud—he'd even run a few things by the salalizards, who had not been impressed. Crouton had burped some encouragement, though.

Lance was the last of the team to arrive, and he was still entirely too early. The first thing his eyes fell on was that fucking purple plant. It was too… stop thinking about his eyes. Clenching his hands into fists in his jacket pockets, he forced himself to keep approaching the group.

It was not one, but two Arusians who arrived last of all. Larmina was hanging back, awkwardly cradling her fire lily. Having had plenty of time to rethink this plan, she was significantly less excited about it. But she damn well wasn't going to give the Drules the theoretical satisfaction of backing out now, so she'd perhaps overcompensated by asking Auntie to come along instead.

Allura had hesitated, but decided it was worth at least going along to see if they would mind. Memorial gardens were not a common tradition in the Crown Province, but picking a flower had been easy enough: aetehn blossoms, common to the meadows around the castle, had been a favorite of Tanner's. The colorful flowers appeared to bear cheerful cub faces when they bloomed… holding the plant close, she caught Keith's eye with a questioning look.

She hadn't brought a plant for King Alfor. The lions, awakened, were his legacy.

Keith was a little surprised to see her, but not about to argue. Given who she'd lost… and it was only fair really, he'd wandered uninvited into her family's tombs. And much like Larmina, if she wanted to join with the team for something like this, it could only help what was to come. Glancing around to gauge the others' reactions, he saw a few understanding nods.

Good enough for me.

Feeling Black's comforting purr again, he motioned to their plants; Allura's vaguely reminded him of pansies, while Larmina's might have been some sort of lily. "You can put them with the others, if you'd like."

Allura nodded, setting the aetehn cluster beside the other plants, wondering what kinds of people they would represent. Larmina didn't really want to let go of her lily, but she set it down anyway; she was committed to this.

Watching them, Lance tried his damndest to breathe. To remind himself this wasn't just about one person, no matter how loud his heart was pounding in his ears.

Keith stepped to the front of the gathering. He still didn't really know what to say, so he retreated to the forms he knew. Formal and official. It was a place to start.

"Princess. Lady. Explorer Team 686. We… all know why we're here. United in grief, to honor their memories."

The tension was already high. Vince had never been to a funeral before; were they always this awkward? Then again, how could they not be? He nodded quietly in response to Keith's words; he really wanted this to help. Closure would be nice.

"For our own part… Ensign Cameron Starr, our communications officer. Specialist Jace Cardoso Gregory, our medic. And Lieutenant Commander Flynn Kleid, our chief engineer and second in command."

Somehow, Lance's fists were clenching even tighter, and he shut his eyes. Fuck, the name still hurt… he felt Red's warmth curling around him, as if from somewhere far away. Next to him, Daniel was wincing too, keeping his good hand tight on the notes he'd brought.

For a moment, Keith squeezed his eyes shut. "All three are great losses, to us and the Alliance. But their sacrifice will not be forgotten." As he opened his eyes again, they flashed electric-blue, and he felt the lightning running down his spine. "Nor will it have been in vain."

The tense aura cloaking the gathering gave way briefly to something else—a unified determination that had even the Arusians nodding. Pidge closed his own eyes; he expected to find most of this human memorial drama baffling, but those words were truer than anything.

"They died nobly, honorably, above and beyond the call of their duties. Demonstrating the highest qualities of everything it means to be a soldier of the Alliance." Even Keith knew, even as he said it, that that was going to get him some doubtful reactions. And he did see them, rippling through the team. But it was true, every word of it.

Just because they all knew it wasn't the Alliance motivating what they'd done…

"Perhaps they did not die for your Alliance. But for an alliance… for a Pride."

"We don't know what the future holds, for any of us. But their sacrifice, terrible as it was, ensured our survival to allow us to be here today. And we will hold onto their memories, to light our path through the coming darkness."

Ensured our survival. Vince shook his head. He still didn't understand how, of all of them, he had made it out of that arena. Swallowing hard, seeing the blaze of light he'd poured into the robeast all over again, he did his best to keep himself steady.

Daniel was heroically not groaning as Keith did his Keith thing; he was going to be respectful about this. It felt like a lot of bullshit, talking up how great it was that they'd died like that. They'd died! He kept his eyes on the plants instead. They were freakily accurate, maybe they could hold his attention.

Pidge equally heroically resisted rolling his eyes at that typically aggravating conception of light and darkness. He supposed the rest of it was fair. Next to him, Hunk was oddly amused; the speech Keith was giving was far from funny, but the thought of how much Jace would hate it was kind of funny. He caught Sven's eye, finding the Viking thinking something similar—he could hear their medic rolling his eyes and cursing beyond the grave right now.

Lance was just barely holding it together. His eyes were stinging, and the words were trying to batter down the floodgate. Memories? What he had were near misses.

Knowing he had to wrap this up, not least because he only had so much left, Keith looked at the plants himself and took a shallow breath. "Cam, the only one of us who volunteered for this team. Straight out of the Academy. He had so much potential, and no doubt would've gone far in his career. I did my best to mentor him and he was always eager to learn, eager to please…"

And I let him die on my watch. He choked back a harsh sob; he could not break down now. Black growled softly, but it wasn't even about denying his own feelings, not now. He just had to get through this.

"Doc… Jace. He was prickly, but he damn well knew what he was doing. He insisted he hated being on an Explorer Team, but when push came to shove, he was there to do whatever it took when we needed him most."

He wouldn't let anyone die on his watch again. Sven nodded slowly, and glanced at Daniel, who looked slightly ill. No doubt having the same thought.

"Kleid." Keith swallowed. "He was an interesting roommate, an interesting second. He disliked being 'authority', but he was good at it. Good at his job. We didn't always agree, but we listened to each other, did what needed to be done… I could count on him." His composure was on its last thread. "On all three of them, to do what was necessary. And in the end, that's what they did." It felt like he was gasping for air as he saluted the plants, then turned back to the others. "If anyone else has… anything they'd like to say… I'll turn it over to you." His throat was so dry his voice cracked.

Daniel had a lot to say, but was briefly short-circuited by a surge of anger. Necessary? NECESSARY?! Flynn maybe, he hadn't seen that one—Jace maybe, his stomach ache right now still found that debatable—but Cam? Fuck that! And unless he wanted to just throw all his notes at that stupid star-flowered plant and scream FUCK YOU at it, he'd better wait.

Nobody else was really jumping at the opportunity either; Lance had taken a couple of steps back. And right as the silence became oppressive, Hunk stepped up.

"Y'know," he couldn't quite keep back the chuckle, "Jace woulda hated every single word of this so far. So as Number One Frenemy, it's my solemn duty to say more, yeah?"

Maybe it was his solemn duty to make this a little less solemn. Keith had done what he had to do. So would the rest of them.

"If you guys haven't been thinkin' yet about what he'd diagnose 'lion voices and glowy eyes and crazy elemental feelings' as, take a sec to think about it. Right now." He swept his gaze over the team; a few of them were slowly cracking smiles. Even Keith. Even Pidge, who was insisting to himself that the premise was ridiculous—but that didn't make it not funny. "And then laugh. Cuz he'd want us to laugh, if only so he could bitch about it."

Lance wasn't grinning. He should've been, he wanted to. He wanted to argue that he'd been Jace's number one frenemy. But he couldn't look away from the purple plant. Hell, he could barely breathe…

Tossing a casual salute to the thorny plant, Hunk looked at the others again. "Anyone else wanna embarrass the Doc by sayin' nice stuff about 'im?"

Though Sven wasn't going to speak, he felt like he at least owed it to Jace to not leave his letter in secret. So he pulled it out and walked up to Jace's plant, tucking it beneath the lower leaves before wordlessly returning to his spot. He could feel the eyes on him, the team's understanding, Blue purring softly in the back of his mind… and while he wasn't sure that closure was what he was feeling, he at least was able to take a comforting breath once he was back in his spot.

Vince spoke up timidly. He didn't really want to say what he was thinking, either. But he had to say something… "Cooked a great risotto." And was the first doctor to take me seriously.

Romelle clutched Jace's jacket tighter, remembering what she'd been told—that he'd have cursed at her until she accepted it. Not that that was the only thing she'd heard, but… it made her feel connected, in an odd way. Closing her eyes, she whispered a small thanks to him in Polluxian.

Knowing far less, Allura still found herself smiling slightly. This Jace person seemed to be a figure of contradictions; she could see how he would fit in with the other offworlders. Larmina wasn't thinking about any of that, but she did think he sounded fun. And he'd been close to Sven, clearly—which made sense. Because Sven was awesome.

Grinning at Vince, Hunk waited a few more beats, then moved on. "Pit boss wouldn't like this a whole lot better. He's totally off on the flip side snarkin' about Commander Crystal Spur right now." He heard Keith cough and shot him his most innocent grin. "You know it. We all know it."

"He's not wrong," Pidge agreed with a slight shrug. His light tone belied the knives in his guts. This was your answer, Flynn. This is what I was afraid of. But I'm still trying not to fail you any more.

"Wrenchling-in-Chief just wanted to play with engines, and he got tossed in a bay with ninjas and weird sparks and, well, me and managed to wrangle us like a pro." He chuckled. "He'd also have schematics of all these lions drawn up already and would probably wanna know why we haven't done it, so wrenchies, let's get on that soon, yeah?"

Wrangled flyboys too… Lance took another step back. His heart was pounding in his throat. Shit. Fuck. He knew what was coming next.

"This is also about where he'd threaten to put me on some kinda double shifts that I wouldn't like if I didn't stop talkin' him up like this, anyone wanna take over?"

Lance felt a few eyes darting to him, and swallowed painfully. He had so much he wished he could—no, he only had three words to say and they hurt too much, they hurt like hell, and they weren't a goodbye anyway. He wasn't ready for this. He couldn't do this.

Shaking his head, he whirled around and ran.

Keith started to run after him, but stopped before even completing his first step. Black had given a short, sharp growl, but he hadn't even needed that—not really. It wouldn't do any good. Their pilot clearly needed space. Daniel had concluded something similar, tempted to run but resisting; there wasn't much he could do for Lance right now. And there was something he needed to do here.

Watching the Earthling run, Larmina was once again struck by that strange feeling of relating completely to one of these people.

"Oh, dude," Hunk mumbled under his breath. He'd known this would be rough, but hopefully not that rough. "We are not currently achieving 'closure', are we…"

"Not all mortals find closure along the same path," Yellow pointed out with a sympathetic purr. "Follow your path, Earthwarder, as Firestriker must follow his. There are those among your Pride who are being helped."

Nodding slowly, he decided it wasn't likely anyone would be picking up after that. The tension had ratcheted up again, and here he hadn't even brought a nice steak knife to cut it with. Just a metaphorical one.

Follow your path.

He had not anticipated that being emceeing a funeral, but here he was.

"And Cam!" A few people jumped, turning back to him, and he realized another small problem. "He was a good little dude, and I bet he'd even be okay with us sayin' nice stuff about 'im. I'm probably not the most qualified—"

"—I'm qualified." Rolling his eyes, Daniel walked up to the plants. Lance's bolting had helped to defuse his anger from earlier, at least. He was ready now.

Hunk had not seen that coming, and he wasn't sure why not, if he were perfectly honest. Of course Daniel would have things to say about Cam; their comms officer had been his friend, and having things to say was his specialty. "Have at it, little dude."

Their gunner nodded, shuffling through his notes for a few moments. Not that he really felt he needed them, but it gave him something to do with his hands other than awkwardly fumbling with his splint. And it did serve as a warning of sorts to the rest of the team.

Daniel has notes, this should be good.

"Cameron Iosif… Iosif, what the fuck kind of middle name even is that? EE-AY-OH-SF—whatever, let me start over." He shook his head and tried again. "Cameron 'Fanboy' Starr, you were an excellent communications officer. A great soldier, number one in your class—I think. You weren't the best at making toast, but none of our other, selfish crew members would make me toast in the middle of the night, so I guess it's pretty dickish to complain about that."

For a few innocent moments, Keith had been impressed at how nice he was being. That hadn't lasted. He'd known it wasn't going to last. He had a strong suspicion of what was about to happen, but… Daniel had as much right as anyone else to let his feelings out.

"But you know what I can complain about? What a dumbass you are… were." Was he still messing that up? Seriously? "You have—" Mother of… "You had this irritating habit of being either a dick or extremely sweet. Like weirdly, Texas-sweet-tea sweet. Like you were trying to just shove your intense feelings of friendship down my throat. It was disgusting." And fuck if he didn't miss it terribly.

Hunk was biting his lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Vince was looking anywhere else, focusing on the ground, trying his hardest not to laugh. That would be inappropriate, and yet.

"You forced your ideal soldier nonsense onto me, which led to my only exploration of a ghost ship being ruined—you weren't completely to blame for that, that was a certain commander and pilot's fault mainly, but you had a hand in it!"

This had rapidly gone from one kind of weird human thing to a completely different kind of weird human thing, and Pidge wasn't quite certain what to make of it. But something about it rang… true? Correct? What he was very aware of was that the tension was bleeding away from the group. Not that there wasn't some awkward shuffling going on, still.

But maybe someone actually letting it all out was a good thing…

"You also had a hand in changing me from, in the words of the Academy Dean, a 'shit-show of a Cadet' to a slightly ill-disciplined soldier. And I'm on the fence on whether or not I can forgive you for that, I'll let you know when I know." He wasn't sure if he'd ever know.

Oh my. Allura blinked. It was certainly a strange kind of honor, but she could feel what was happening too. Standing opposite her, Romelle was nodding just slightly. These people had such strange methods at times—most times—but she'd seen enough of their banter to understand what was happening right now. She thought, anyway.

"I mean you're—you were fucking lame, but somehow you tricked me into being friends with you. Probably because I was trapped in a room with you almost twenty-four seven, it was either be friends or get court martialed for murdering you." For the first time, Daniel felt something welling up in his throat other than anger, and tried to ignore it. "Which would've made you so much less of a dumbass than the way you chose to die! Your death was lame, and I don't have my friend anymore, and I'm definitely not forgiving you for that."

Larmina was listening much more carefully than she'd expected. Did she relate to this one? Maybe that wasn't the exact word she'd use. But she was appreciating it.

"The only non-lame thing to come out of your stupid and pointless death is that I got to write a eulogy. A major goal of mine has been accomplished. So thanks." He shrugged and shoved the notes into his pocket—he hadn't looked at them since he started. "And I know you specifically told me I wasn't allowed to write your eulogy, but fuck off. Shouldn't have died like a dumbass."

Somehow, that had been even more Daniel than Keith had expected. He was still blinking back his surprise when the gunner turned to the thorny plant for a moment.

"…I'm really fucking sorry, Jace." He was not crying. He was definitely not crying. His eyes were just stinging from the sunlight, yeah, that was it. "Alright, I'm done." Walking back to the group, he was still not crying. At all.

"It's weird that I found parts of that touching, isn't it," Vince murmured under his breath. Only Hunk heard it, and patted his shoulder for a moment before moving back up again.

No weirder than anything else we do. He gave Daniel a small nod of respect. "So, anyone wanna follow up the most fucking Explorer Team eulogy ever?"

The catchphrase broke over them like a palpable wave. A round of nods followed, a couple of nervous grins. This is who we are. This is what we do. Yellow was right—everyone had to mourn in their own way. And his way, he guessed, was trying to help the others along.

The earth was the foundation, or so he'd heard.

"Nope. Not following that."

"Absolutely not."

"Yeah… I do."

Everyone spun around to stare at Larmina in shock. She was not much less shocked herself. But if that last speech had made anything clear, it was that this didn't need to be about decorum. She'd asked to come here for a reason…

Walking up to the plants, she kept her back to the group as she studied them. "Shouldn't have to be doing this," she said—quietly, but nobody else was making a sound. "But we are and it sucks. So you people, Cam and Flynn and Jace?" Talking to the plants was easier, somehow. "Prince Tanner… and M—Queen Orla. If you hear the any of this…" She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "Fucking sinycka are gonna pay for it. Everything."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bright glimmer of light. Turning her head to face her mother's ghost one more time, she gave the tiniest of nods… then retreated. She'd said her piece.

Allura couldn't help a small, muffled chuckle of affection alongside the sad smile. The sentiment was powerful. Larmina might not think she had any royal capacity, but the way the others were nodding said otherwise.

"What she said!"

"Fuck yeah they are."

Stunned though he was—again—Keith couldn't agree more. And he was none too sure he could sum it up any better. So when nobody else stepped forward, he just nodded to Sven, who nodded in return and picked up their makeshift shovel.

He still had things to say, it was just the saying them. So he let his thoughts silently go there instead as he dug holes for the plants. Flynn's first. Promising to be a good second to the team—to the new team, since they seemed to be collecting a few new comrades—though he couldn't promise to be as good a second as the chief had been.

Romelle had stepped forward to help, and set the plant he motioned for into the hole. She remembered how they'd fallen. Remembered her fear that they all might fall, before she'd even known them. All she could give to them was this small gesture.

Digging the next hole, Sven let himself feel a pang of guilt. He should've gotten to know Cam better. They'd been friendly on the bridge, but that was about it. Both caught up in other things. Never thinking… well, about this.

It felt like an actual burial… they should've been standing at attention, Keith thought. That was the proper thing, the military thing. But he couldn't make himself give the order. Like a microcosm of the team itself, the memorial had begun with awkward formality, remembering them as soldiers. But here at the end, they were simply friends.

Sven moved on to the holes for the Arusians' flowers. Prince Tanner and Queen Orla, Larmina had said. He knew nothing about them, but made them a promise nonetheless. To protect as many Arusians as he could from a similar fate. This choice he'd made freely… he felt Blue purring, and as he finished the two holes he paused for a moment. Bracing.

Picking up her cluster of cub-faced flowers, Allura gently tapped the 'ear' of the largest blossom. "Despite the pain," she murmured, "we will rise. Right, l'il lion?" She felt a reassuring nudge from Larmina, and as Romelle finished planting the star-shaped flowers, she turned to accept the next plant.

For a moment the two princesses stared at each other over the colorful blossoms. Then, with a soft smile, Allura passed the remembrance blossoms for an Arusian royal into the hands of a Polluxian. With a solemn nod, Romelle set the plant into its hole; it felt weightier than a small cluster of flowers had any business feeling.

There was one hole left, and Sven knew he was never going to be any more ready for it. His eyes started to well with tears as he looked at the thorny plant, and he was digging more slowly as his thoughts raced. He'd never had a best friend before—and if he'd ever stopped to think about what a best friend would be like, it certainly wasn't Jace. But… there he had been. There they had been. As he finished digging, the tears were falling, and for once it felt like he couldn't just put off dealing with them.

Sitting next to the plant, he finally managed to speak. Just the once, just a whisper.

"Thank you for being my friend."

Quietly, hesitantly, Vince approached where the planting was happening. He couldn't help sniffling as he watched Sven, and he could hear his Granny Bea in the back of his mind, chastising him for not having a handkerchief. Giving the navigator a small nod, he turned his focus to the plants, saying his own small goodbye to each one. He owed them all the time.

He wished he'd been able to find answers with them.

As the planting finished up, Keith approached Allura and Larmina. "Thank you, both of you. For allowing us to do this, and even participating in it. It means a lot to all of us."

Larmina didn't see what she'd done that called for thanks; she'd just gotten annoyed at a ninja and pissed off about Drules. So she gave a small nod and let Auntie handle the rest.

"You're welcome." She felt another crackle of static, and a momentary painful flush in her cheeks as Keith came closer. But it was fleeting. Maybe it was her imagination? "With you helping us, how could we not allow you this? And…" She watched as Larmina walked away, touching the petals of the newly-planted fire lily. "I think it was helpful for all of us."

Nearly all of us. Keith was still concerned about Lance's disappearance, and could tell Hunk was too. The big engineer had paused by the plants, but kept glancing back in the direction their pilot had run. As if he wanted to follow but was thinking better of it… with or without help.

"It's a step towards healing," he said finally, nodding to the princess again. "We all need as many of those as we can get, don't we?"

He hoped, wherever he'd gone, that Lance would at least be helped by escaping the memorial as much as the rest of them had been by staying.

*****

Lance ran blindly, tears obstructing the path, and he felt the heat of Red's den before he processed being there. His tears sizzled slightly on the ground, and his limbs felt like cement as clambered into the lion's cockpit. As he crumpled into his pilot's seat, any composure he had left disintegrated into loud, painful sobs as his heart screamed.

You can't do this…

Your grief is a fire.

It burned like one. His lungs felt the flares of it as he cried; his eyes stung from his tears. His throat hurt. Pain was all he felt. How was he meant to get closure?

Closure?

How could he find that when all he had were regrets.

Flynn.

He swore as memories slammed him. Things he'd been avoiding. Laughter and smirks. That punch that started the best friendship of his life—no, it was more. Had he always known that? How could he not have known it?

But he did know it.

Then and now.

Regret burned like fire, too.

He shuddered as the tears felt fiercer and more and more like fire. Maybe his grief always had to burn, like it had with Beau Terre. Maybe he wasn't meant to find peace with it…

Red's presence burned brighter around him in that moment, but otherwise the lion remained silent. Respecting his grief. Yet the slight touch of his presence managed to be comforting, even now, as pain spilled out of him…

Lance wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours that he cried. But slowly, he started to build back his walls. He found a way of putting the grief that belonged to Flynn into a box in the back of his mind. As he felt himself start to straighten up, the guilt hit him at his running. The funeral wasn't only about—him. It was about two others that he owed honor to—especially Jace. Without Jace, he wouldn't have Daniel either… he inhaled sharply at that, and the breath was another flare of fire.

He remembered them battling vines. He remembered all of them were a team. They worked as one when push came to shove. The three of them had died for…

"The Pride."

Red's voice echoed in his head, and with it came resolve. He stood up on shaky legs, sniffing hard to try to clear his nose. But he felt pieced back together again—time would tell how strongly. He needed to head back, maybe apologize for bolting and give some sort of goodbye to the others… but he would avoid that fucking purple plant.

Nodding to himself, he started to leave the cockpit. But his shaky legs pitched him sideways and he walked into the cockpit's rear seat. His hands fell on the arms to steady himself, and he stared down at the seat…

The Pride.

The team…

Lance's eyes flashed red, a clarifying heat rushing through his brain as he took in the second seat; it wasn't the first time he'd noticed it, but it was the first time he was seeing it. His crimson-tinged vision showing him functionality, and Red's presence in his mind telling him it was true as he understood what he was seeing…

The lions had two seats.

And they were a Pride.