Bethie's Birthday: Part One

Bethie had always had a cheery disposition, though she had never been above sulking, arguing, and basically showing that she had inherited her mother's temperament. Her life had been wonderful and easy before now and so those times usually did not come often, but after all that had happened...she could barely get out of bed in the morning. The sense of failure was crippling and though she realized that perhaps her mother had made the best decision for the team and for the planet, she could not help feeling sorry for herself.

Listlessly, she rose from her bed and walked around her room, her hands picking up and discarding the little knick-knacks she'd scattered everywhere. Her eyes skimmed the photographs she'd framed or tacked up here and there and her heart sank when she saw the picture of her and her mother. It was a candid photograph of when she was getting ready for her 18th birthday party and Nanny, Riaru rest her soul, was doing her makeup while her mother was sitting on the edge of her bed, girlishly hugging her legs to her chest, her expression wistful as she watched her little girl become a woman. For Bethie, that had been a memorable day for many reasons but one reason that stood out was the fact that it was when she realized just how alike she and her mother were. She was her father's pilot...but definitely her mother's daughter. It was what made them close...and kept them apart.

She would always love her mother, there was no doubt about that, but she would not always get along with her. That was a fact. They were too much alike; too proud and headstrong to ever let the other get the upper hand. Agreements between them often had to be brokered rather than agreed upon, but that was not to say that she and her mother would not seek each other out if things ever got too bad. But not yet. She wasn't ready and for once, she did not want to pick a fight. This hurt had cut too deep and she needed time to let it heal on its own before she reached out to her mother.

In her study several feet and one floor down the corridor, Allura was standing by the window, her mind wandering freely as she tried to find some peace. Everything inside her was telling her to go to Bethie's room and talk to her, but she could not seem to get her feet to agree with her brain. She did not relish having to face Bethie because she knew exactly how her headstrong eldest child would react to seeing her...simply because it did not defer much from how Allura imagined she would act if her father or mother had done the same to her what she did to Bethie. During one of their more explosive arguments--before this one--Allura had tried to gauge the way Bethie would react if she presented a wholly different argument and she'd gotten it exactly right; except imagining did not go too far in preparing her for the real thing. Knowing how Bethie would act was different from knowing what she would say in that situation and Allura found she'd had met her match.

She missed her.

Despite what Bethie thought, she hated what she'd had to do. Allura did not play favorites with her children, that was something she considered impossible, but she did find that each child did have their particular niches in her life. Alana helped her realize that there was a world outside her study and her work, she liked to say that her youngest daughter was her heart. Ethan was the meticulous one, with the patience of a saint and the sharp mind of his father. He turned over every issue with such care that she often wondered if he should have been a scientist instead of going to the IAF Academy. He was her brain. But Bethie...Bethie was her soul. Maybe it was because they were so similar but Allura found that her eldest daughter, the Heir to the Throne, was the one she could go to for when it was time to make the hard decisions. Bethie said what she could not say, see what she could not see, and together, they often found the best solution to Arus' problems. Keith told her once that he was not all that concerned that she and Bethie fought so much because when they got along, he could hardly get anything he wanted done. Allura was not wont to disagree with him on that.

She stopped in front of her bookcase and she pulled out an album. The Castle of Lions' mainframe was limitless, but she liked having hard copies of her pictures with her for times like this. She wasn't very organized but one birthday, Bethie, Ethan, and Alana had organized her photographs into albums and labelled them. This one was labelled 'Bethie's 18th Birthday'. She sat down on the couch and laid the album on her lap. Opening it, she tried to lose herself in the days passed.

Four years earlier...

"Mooooom," Bethie whined.

Allura cringed. After having lived underground for decades with explosions going off over her head, she thought that she had heard the worst sounds in the universe. That is, until she had children. More than once, she told Keith that she equated their whining to the sound of a pipeline explosion--and she wasn't so sure that she would choose them over the explosion.

After a hard day's work, the children seemed to sense that she did not need anymore trouble and thus, brought more. On special days, more than one of them would be tugging on her pants whining for one thing or anothing and no amount of yelling could get them to stop. Keith had come upon her with Bethie and Alana, all three close to tears. She thought that perhaps when they got older, they would outgrow it, but if anything, they only got better with years of practice.

Out of all of them, though, Bethie was the pro.

The pro was not using all her powers to get out of wearing the beautiful pink gown that was hanging in her closet. Granted, Allura probably would have reacted the same way--still would actually--if Nanny or anyone else with the authority tried to make her wear a dress like that. It would take a lot to get her to admit that perhaps certain clothes were necessary for certain occassions, but she did have to agree that Bethie could not go to her own 18th birthday party in a pantsuit.

"Elisabeth, you cannot go to your own birthday party in a pantsuit," she said firmly, crossing her arms.

Bethie glared at the offending dress. She never did understand why Alana liked wearing dresses and gowns with such frequency. When there were times when all three of the Porterfield women had to dress up, she and her mother shared the same litany of complaints that they mumbled to each other while they smiled prettily at the dignitaries and politicians around them. Having her mother now turn on her was akin to getting stabbed in the back.

"You seriously think that you can?" Allura continued in disbelief.

"No," Bethie mumbled.

"Then why are you being such a pain in the butt?"

"Heredity."

They exchanged wry looks.

"It's a beautiful dress," Allura said, fingering the satiny material. "You would look wonderful in it."

"You wouldn't be trying to marry me off, are you, Mom?"

"Of course not," Allura snorted. "I wouldn't be especially excited to have a pansy for a son-in-law if the visiting princes are any indication, so I'm sure you wouldn't be especially excited to be married to one."

"That is a good attitude. So...what are you wearing?"

Allura sat down next to Bethie on the bed, crossed her legs and leaned back. She'd unconsciously mimicked her daughter's posture and they both stared at the dress.

"Nanny's got some kind of grand Queenly gown planned. She won't let me see it."

"You're scared, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"I'm scared for you, Mom."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Bethie leaned her head against her mother's shoulder and smiled when Allura patted her cheek in a gesture that was familiar and comforting.

"I'll deny having said it to my dying breath, but you're very lucky to have this party, Bethie. My 18th birthday was spent in a crowded supply room during one of Zarkon's more violent raids on Arus," Allura said. "I remember it because it was the first time that I ever wished I was in a ballgown dancing with some prissy Prince rather than where I was at that moment."

"So all it takes is a war to get me to appreciate my present state," Bethie said.

Allura kissed the top of her head.

"Pretty much."

The doors slid open and they turned in unison to see Keith stride into the room. He nearly tripped to find two pairs of identical blue eyes pointed in his direction and he thought how much Bethie looked like her mother. Lance liked to call her 'The Clone', of course not in either of their hearing, and Keith could never really argue with him about that.

"Chef Loye has a couple questions," he said. "I hate to interrupt this touching moment in your life, Bethie, but I gotta steal your mom for a second."

"I'll try not to fall apart, Dad," Bethie said dryly, but with a fondness that made Keith smile.

Allura tousled Bethie's short black hair before she went out into the corridor with Keith.

"What does Loye want?" she asked.

Keith grinned.

"He wants you to go for a walk with me in the gardens," he said. "We've been a little more busy than I like and I almost forgot what you looked like."

Allura laughed and wound her arm through his.

"Lying to the sovereign of a free world is conduct unbecoming a Commodore," she pointed out.

"You know me. Once a rebel, always a rebel."

"You madman," Allura said sarcastically.

He led her out into the gardens. Allura let him take her hand from the crook of his arm and tangle his fingers with hers. Eighteen years and three children later, it still made her heart skip a beat to feel his slightly calloused skin slide against hers, even if it was just their hands touching. Her grip tightened on his hand and he looked down at her, smiling.

"So, I take it you convinced Bethie to wear the dress?"

"She knew she had to wear it," Allura said. "It was just a matter of letting her think that she had to put up a fight for it."

"They grew up pretty fast, didn't they?"

Allura's countenance grew wistful.

"I do miss the babies they were. Bethie was such a chubby baby and I loved hugging her and just holding her close. Now she's taller than me and turning eighteen. Keith, we're getting too old."

"I don't know about you, but I don't feel old."

"You have more gray hairs than you think, Your Highness."

He visibly winced. It amused Allura that he was still not used to the title even after having lived with it for so long.

"That goes the same for you. If anything, you're more gray than I am."

"That's a dirty lie and you know it. I'm as blonde as the day I...well the day I grew hair."

"I beg to differ," he snorted.

"Give him a crown and all of a sudden he's right all the time," she groused.

"Do you think we might die if we stop fighting for more than ten minutes."

"It's not fighting. It's discussion."

His fingers gave hers a squeeze and she grinned, looking up into his dancing eyes.

"My point exactly," he said playfully.

As he dipped her head to kiss her, she murmured, "We're definitely not too old to do this."