A/N: For Tara, my partner in crime, whose little dream gave me the plot bunny for this.
Princess Romelle sat at her husband's bedside, smoothing the gray-streaked black hair away from his face, listening to his increasingly labored breathing. His lashes fluttered, then his eyes opened, fixing her with his familiar midnight blue gaze. "Min kjærlighet," Sven whispered weakly.
"I'm here, my love." She took his hand, holding it to her chest, feeling the tears well up in spite of her determination to be strong.
Sven found the strength to squeeze her hand. "Don't. . . cry. Love you. . .alvays vit you." He dragged in a deep breath. "The children. . .my broders?"
"We're here, Pappa," Mira said from his other side, putting a hand on his shoulder. Erik stood behind his sister, eyes red, saying nothing.
"The team's coming," Romelle said softly, kissing his hand. Lance had been the one to take her call; she hadn't had to say a word. One look at her face, and he had hit the Castle alarms, swearing. "Lance said, 'tell that damned Viking that if he dies before we get there, I'll kill him.'"
"He. . . vould," Sven whispered, wheezing a laugh. "Damn. . .McClain."
"Back at you, Holgersson," a familiar drawl said from the door. Lance strode in, followed by Keith and the rest of the Force. Mira and Erik gave way to their aunt and uncles; Romelle would have moved also, but found herself stopped by a blue-gloved hand on her shoulder. "You stay right there," Lance whispered to her, and moved to stand by Sven's head. "What is this crap, anyway, Viking? Dying? What kind of bullshit is THAT?" His Nebraska drawl was light, full of his usual sarcasm, but everyone could see the tears in his green eyes.
"Not . . . my choice, min bror." Sven gently freed his hand from Romelle's grasp and wrapped it in Lance's flight suit, tugging weakly. The Red Lion pilot knelt, coming down to Sven's eye level. "I haf. . a task for you. . . vant a. . . promise."
"Name it," Lance answered immediately.
"Romelle. . ." Sven locked gazes with Lance, all of his old intensity in his eyes. "Promise . . . me . . . take care of her?"
"You never even had to ask," Lance choked. "Damn, Sven. . . brother. . ." The tears spilled over; Lance let them fall.
"I vould haf. . .done noting. . . different, Lance McClain." Midnight blue held watery green. "Love you. . . broder, alvays."
"Love you too, Sven Holgersson, you damned crazy Viking." Lance leaned over and embraced Sven fiercely, then stood and stepped back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
Keith took his place, kneeling and clasping Sven's hand between his own. "Sven, my friend, my brother. . ."
"Keit. . ." Sven closed his eyes for a moment, breathing ragged, then opened them again. "Min broder. . .I vill miss you. Keep dis lot in line, ja? Und never forget dat I love you."
"As if I ever could," Keith smiled, tears in his eyes. "Goodbye, my brother." He embraced Sven quickly, then got up and hurried into the hall before he broke down completely.
Sven's eyes drifted closed again; clearly the stubborn Viking will was weakening. Allura didn't kneel; she sat on the bed opposite her cousin. "Hey, there," she whispered, tears flowing down her face.
"Min lille prinsesse." Sven didn't open his eyes, but his hand slid down the covers to find hers. "Long vay. . .from dat. . . staircase. . ja? So proud. . .woman you. . . became."
"I couldn't have done it without you," she answered, squeezing his hand. She had fallen—she thought—head over heels for the dark Norwegian the moment she saw him, no matter that she was 16 and he was far older at 24. Sven had recognized the crush for what it was, and had paid gentle court to her, humoring her, playing boyfriend, going so far as to give her her first kiss, sweet and innocent. Only when he was hurt and left did she realize her true feelings were for Keith.
"Ja. . .you vould haf.. . . Just. . .helped. Look. . . after. . . my brothers." Sven squeezed her hand; it was the barest movement. "Go. . . to. . .Keit now. Needs. . . you." Allura nodded and kissed his cheek, then slipped from the room. Hunk and Pidge said their own farewells to their former teammate and melted from the room, leaving the Holgersson family together. Mira and Erik exchanged a glance and stepped out as well. "Alone. . .at last. . . min elske," Sven whispered. "Do. . .something. . . for me?"
"Anything," Romelle whispered tearfully. "Oh, goddess, Sven. . ."
The Norwegian made an effort and opened his eyes again. "Come. . . here. Lie. . .down vit. . . me. I. . . vant. . . to go. . . vit you. . . in my arms. Please. . . min kjærlighet."
Romelle quickly shifted around to lie against him, head on his shoulder, and pulled his arms around her. "I love you so much, Erik Sven," she sobbed. "I can't go on without you. I'm not that strong!"
"You. . . can. Strongest. . . I know." Sven found a last bit of strength, and leaned up to kiss her passionately. "Remember. . . me. Jeg. . . elsker. . . deg, alltid." The last word came out on a sigh; his arms went limp around her.
Out in the hallway, the Holgersson children and the Voltron Force stiffened, startled from their tears, as an unearthly wail came from the royal bedroom. The Viking navigator of the Voltron Force, fiercest yet most vulnerable of them, was gone. Outside in the courtyard, Blue Lion lifted her head and let out a mournful yowl.