Author's Notes: I received many comments from so many wonderful reviewers asking for more. I apologize that it took so long to conjure this little tale. There are some qualities from the comics I could not resist including in my story. Additionally, I found conflicting information on the origins of our beloved Voltron pilots. Having them all come from Earth seemed the easiest way to keep the story flowing. I apologize if this opens any can of worms. I hope again that I am doing justice to the characters and the show.
As always, no flames please. However, I am grateful for constructive criticism that will help to develop my skills further as a writer.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money. I only write about what I enjoy.
Summary: Sequel to my story, "Midnight Interlude." Nanny arranges a banquet to introduce Princess Allura to a prospective suitor. Rated T to be safe for some minor curses.
The Dance Begins
Chapter 1 – Preparations
Princess Allura paused in her distracted pacing. Her eyes cast to the mirror. It was the one place she refused to look until now. She didn't want to see the twists in her hair and the small rhinestones that had been arranged neatly about her head. She had no desire to view how her long, blonde hair was loosely curled and draped carefully over her shoulders. She couldn't bear to witness the gentle blue color of the dress and how it reflected into her eyes. She had no wish to observe the shimmer in the fabric that was silky and elegant.
She hated how her body fit the gown flawlessly and the long sleeves were the perfect length. The small cascade of material near her wrists fell in gentle waves. The skirts were not so full she couldn't sit, but they were not so tight she couldn't move either. The skirts fell lightly to the floor, the lacing of the trim scrapping delicately. She touched gently one of the intricately embroidered flowers on the corset-style bodice near her ribs. The gown was a work of Nanny's superior craftsmanship. The servant had her talents, and dressmaking was at the top of her skills.
Allura closed her eyes suddenly. She had hoped there would have been something wrong with the dress. She hoped her hair would have been unruly and disobedient to Nanny's playing. She wanted something to be out of place. She wanted something to be wrong with her. She was not dressed this way for Keith, and it felt so terribly wrong. She squeezed her hands into fists and felt the calluses.
Her heart fluttered with the memory of her midnight wandering through the castle when Keith took her hands in his, acknowledging the marks as strength to her character. Before falling asleep many nights, she still experienced in her daydreams the kiss they shared so many nights ago. Her memories were one of the few places where she was safe and alone and could smile with the freedom her heart felt.
Allura suddenly opened her eyes as the familiar emotions began to surface. She forced them away yet again. It had been two weeks since that night. Since then, she had worn her façade with the practice of a monarch that would have made Nanny proud.
The princess remembered that she promised Keith to meet her in the caverns the following night after dinner. That meeting never happened. Nanny had announced during dinner that she and Coran had invited Prince Dirin from the planet Fedmar to Arus. Keith and Allura knew then they had to stay apart for a while longer, until the prince's visit was over. It was the only way they could think of protecting their feelings. They feared if Nanny found out, she would write a marriage proposal to the prince that Allura could not refuse and Coran would undoubtedly approve.
The princess looked to the tiny scars and rough skin on her hands, using the distraction as a reminder of who she really was. Nanny had hidden every other flaw. Even the small scar on her cheek was hidden somewhere under a thin layer of blush. Allura touched her finger lightly on the blemish. She remembered the day from her childhood when she insisted she could jump off her swing just like the servant boys did in the castle playground. She got the height and speed she needed to out-jump them all. At the moment she released her grip on the swing, the bow in the back of her dress snagged into the chain. Instead of gracefully flying and landing as she knew she was capable of doing, she landed hard on the dirt, her cheek finding the only lousy rock within a ten-foot radius.
"Princess, it's almost time!" Nanny said smiling as she hurried out of the adjourning room. In her hands, she held a silver chain. On the end of the chain was a light blue pendant designed in the royal seal of Arus.
Allura lowered her hand from her face, the memories of her childhood injury broken from her thoughts. She had to try one last time. "Nanny, this dinner is entirely unnecessary."
The servant snorted as she brought the chain around Allura's neck, securing it in the back. It was yet another perfectly placed ornament. The necklace was centered on her chest bone, equally spaced between her neck and her carefully covered bosom. Even when showing Allura off, Nanny was overly discreet. "Princess, it's time for you to stop running around with those Earth boys, risking your life needlessly."
"It's my choice," the princess defended.
Nanny grabbed Allura's hand, in a grip that acted as both a caution and a plead. "You cannot be flying around in some piece of machinery endangering yourself. You're the only ruler this planet has. Those military men have no business allowing you to be flying beside them. Their training is far different from yours. You belong here in the castle, watching from the command room."
The princess pulled her hand free. "We are a team, Nanny. If one link gets broken, the defense of this planet could be in jeopardy."
"That's why Prince Dirin would be ideal for you. He has an acclaimed military record. He will take your place in the Blue Lion and you won't need to risk yourself any further. You can then concentrate on the important things of a monarchy."
"Defending it is important," Allura said frustrated.
"It's destroying you, Princess!" Nanny shouted now, her patience finally faltering over the recurring conversation. "I don't know how many times I can argue this. Slowly, it's taking away your hands. Those scars are the work of evil. You should not be losing your beauty and your charm. Men don't want reptile skin touching them. They want a woman's softness. If you don't find a husband before that Lion damages you completely, the throne of Arus will be lost."
"Maybe losing the throne is what's best," the princess replied solemnly.
Nanny grabbed Allura by the shoulders. Her face was mere inches from hers. An angry fire blazed in her eyes. She hated it when the princess spoke like this. "Don't you ever say that! You're the last chance this monarchy has to survive. So help me, I will find a proper prince for you."
"I don't need a prince to lead this planet," Allura sighed tiredly. She fought against the emotions she had for Keith once again. It seemed they constantly threatened to surface, and with Nanny in this kind of rant, the worst thing Allura could do was betray her growing affections for the Voltron commander.
"You need a royal husband for a royal heir," Nanny told her more calmly, releasing her grasp on the princess. "That is the only way to keep the monarchy alive."
The princess closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on how this battle of words had been going on for nearly four years, since she turned sixteen. It seemed no matter how old she grew or how mature she became, Nanny was determined to keep the monarchy from fading into existence. There was nothing Allura could say to change that, and if she spoke of Keith now, Nanny would stand as his judge, jury, and executioner.
"Let's get you to Prince Dirin," the servant offered gently.
Allura took one last look in the mirror. The path she chose was not meant to be easy. She hoped she could dissuade Dirin from being interested. It was more than just a secret relationship at risk. A partnership with this prince could very well break up the Voltron force. She could not allow that. The bond among the five of them was beyond a friendship. They were the very soul of Voltron.
Gods above, she pleaded silently, please keep the five of us together.
--- --- --- --- ---
"I don't like this one bit," Lance said, throwing the book he had been absently flipping through onto the table. He got up from the chair he had been occupying. For the tenth time, he pulled at the collar of the stiff shirt Nanny prepared for him. Damn, he hated formalwear. The overly-starched shirt was just the start of his complaints. The knee-length jacket was slightly too tight, and he couldn't move his arms naturally. The only thing pleasant about it was the deep, blue shade of color, but that was not near-enough to get him to happily wear the outfit.
Pidge nervously tinkered with a broken datapad. He tried not to think about the tight boots he wore or how they had been shined so he could see the pain on his face every time he glanced down. His light, brown jacket was a bit too big, and he found himself fidgeting with the sleeves every so often. He had tried to fold them back, but then he looked too much like a kid. He resorted instead to leaving them unfolded, but he kept fussing anyway. "Maybe Prince Dirin won't like the princess. Then, we won't have to worry about it."
Hunk snorted. He was trying not to fuss with his hair. He felt naked without the headband. Having it brushed back and set was driving him mad. The dark, brown jacket he wore was tight around his chest, and he found it was most comfortable to leave the jacket unbuttoned. He silently dared the overbearing governess to complain about it. She would find him no longer the gentle giant he was rumored to be. "Nanny and Coran have no right to change things. We're established as a team."
Keith raised his eyes to his friends. He had been standing against the wall with his arms crossed, immersed in thoughts. He worked hard to keep his eyes from staring too long at the princess when anyone was around. He consciously went through every day as though nothing had changed. He barely had any time anyway to think about Princess Allura beyond the leader she was. They had kept busy distributing rations to the people of Arus while they continued to wait out Zarkon and Lotor's next attack. And, Nanny kept the princess busier than usual by brushing her up on royal etiquette. Keith knew that if he and Allura found any private time together, it would be brief and risky. Their only consolation now was that they finally admitted their feelings to each other.
Keith adjusted his crossed arms. He shifted his thoughts back to the present and tried not to think about the thick, leather band that was holding his long hair in an unnatural ponytail. His black jacket also had the same problem as Lance's. The material was stiff and slightly tight. His concern was that if something happened and they needed to act, they were left with tearing the carefully tailored clothing to shreds for mobility. Part of him suspected the uncomfortable clothing was Nanny's quiet way of retaliating against them for allowing Princess Allura to risk herself in battle.
The commander pushed aside his complaints about the impractical clothing. He was trying to keep his concentration on meeting the prince. He was trying to keep himself composed, as a leader should be. It was going to take a great amount of concentration to keep from betraying the slightest hint that he loved Allura.
"They are trying to keep the line to the throne of Arus from ending," Keith answered. His voice conveyed calm logic, but his heart splintered at the traitorous words coming from his lips. "The princess is of the age where she needs to consider an heir. Nanny is tired of waiting for her to look for herself. But, Princess Allura won't take the time to do so because she wants to keep her people safe."
"You sound just like them, Keith," Lance started anew, "You can't possibly think this is a good idea."
The commander lowered his eyes again. He had to keep his emotions concealed. He couldn't even risk letting his closest friends know, at least not yet. "I didn't say I agree with it. I just understand their objectives."
Pidge pushed the datapad aside. "I don't, and I never will."
"There's no law that says we have to allow this guy to take the princess' place," Hunk offered. "I say we just give him the cold shoulder and hope he takes the hint."
"We have to go through with this," Keith answered. "We need to let Nanny know that she can't shuffle us around in a moment of convenience. The princess believes that Voltron chose each of us for a reason. We have to convince Prince Dirin the same."
A knock on the door stopped the conversation. Coran entered the room and assessed the pilots. He was impressed with how well Nanny got them cleaned up. He almost didn't recognize them, as they were finally wearing something of the Arus formalwear. Their casual scruffiness was replaced with the appearance of courtly subjects. The long jackets gave each of them an air of stature. They were given boots that were cleaned and shined. The informality of their everyday attire had passed onto their attitudes. Being forced into formalwear turned the ragtag band of pilots into a group of respectable men. Coran could get used to seeing them this way.
"Prince Dirin is awaiting your presence in the ballroom," the advisor announced. "Dinner will be served shortly."
"Thank you, Coran," Keith replied.
"Commander, if I may have a word with you," the advisor requested gently.
Keith looked to the others. "Go on ahead. I'll be down shortly."
Pidge and Hunk left the room with Lance lagging behind, making a scene of tugging at his shirt.
"Nanny means well, but sometimes she takes things too far," Coran started after he was sure there was no one around. "The prince is a fine gentleman, but I feel as you and the princess do. Voltron embodies some unexplainable influence. In many of the ancient stories I have found, Voltron was thought to choose its pilots."
Keith nodded his understanding. "You could have easily said this in front of the others."
Coran smiled as though he knew more than he appeared. "The stories also speak of a connection between the pilots. Sometimes it's a bond of family or friendship. Sometimes it's a bond of hearts."
The commander maintained his calm exterior. He decided silence was the best alternate. It would neither incriminate nor contradict. He tried to think of any time in the last two weeks when he or Allura could have possibly let their emotions spill free. But, no such incident came to mind. She barely had any time to just sit with any of them. Nanny kept her under a more rigid schedule than she usually did.
Coran took a quiet breath, certain that the commander's silence was, in part, to protect the princess. "The spirit of Princess Allura's father objects to any other pilot in the Blue Lion." His brown eyes held Keith strongly. "You need to protect her. Your intentions can never be anything less than noble."
"I don't understand this lecture," the commander explained. "I have been nothing but loyal and protective since our orders from Galaxy Garrison sent us here."
Coran smiled. "King Alfor knows that. Just remember what I said."
Keith watched the advisor turn and leave. He remained in the empty room, hands now balled into fists. He knew he didn't betray Allura or his feelings for her. Coran was simply probing for confirmation of a suspicion. Taking a calming breath, Keith turned to the window in the room. Dusk had fallen over the castle. His Black Lion out in the distance remained a constant sentry upon its pedestal.
He reached into the inside pocket of the tailored jacket and took out his key to the Black Lion. He ran a fingertip over the design, tracing the ancient symbols. Her father knows, he suddenly realized. Coran was merely a messenger. King Alfor approved of Allura piloting the Blue Lion. The ghostly king was using Coran to test Keith's intentions.