Disclaimer - Voltron and all associated characters are the property of WEP.


"An Artist's Task"

"Is the light in here alright, milady?" Allura asked.

"Absolutely, you're majesty," the girl replied, looking back at Allura with a smile. "I can't wait to begin!"

"That's great to hear," Allura said, smiling back.

"Your majesty," she said, "have I ever told you the story of the tapestry?"

"No, Alexandra," she replied, "you haven't."

"It was many many years ago of course," Alexandra said. "Before the Zarkonian Wars. I still remember your Aunt Orla telling me about it. It all started with the first stroke of the brush...


"Hold still!" the old woman screeched. "For a monarch, you're daft! I can't even work with the way you fidget!"

"My WIFE does not 'fidget'," Alfor said defiantly. "Ambassador Gerod said you had been highly recommended by the artistic community. But you have been rude and arrogant from the minute you set foot in this castle!"

"With all due respect, your majesty," the old woman said, "these things take time and effort, and require great skill and respect!" The king was about to order her gone, when a little girl wandered into the room.

"Uncle Alfor," she said softly, "may I have the chance to draw you both?" This little girl was no ordinary girl. She was realy more of a cousin to the King, being the bastard firstborn of Orla, her own bloodline in question. Yet she considered him her uncle all the same. And Alfor, of course, being the man he was, treated her like his niece.

"This is absurd!" the old woman protested. "She may be an appentice, but she is nowhere as skilled as I am to perform this work!"

"On the contrary, miss," Alfor said, as graciously as he could, "I think you will find the talent of youth to be quite exhilerating." He turned to the little girl. "Love, go on ahead and paint. It doesn't matter how good it is. I will treasure it because it is yours." She walked over to the blank canvas and sat in front of it. Alfor walked over to his wife, and wrapped his arms around her. After a moment of standing there, staring at the couple blankly, Alfor watched her begin making several strokes on the canvas. It wasn't long before her slow and cautions strokes became faster and faster. Each swipe of the canvas seemed to ignite a light in her eyes, a true image of the passion shared between two people who loved each other more than life itself. The old woman stood in disbelief as hours passed, and the one she deemed a silly child swiftly crafted her work. It wasn't until she was finished, that she looked at Alfor and back at her work, and smiled.

"Uncle," she said. "This is how I see the two of you." Alfor and his wife walked over to the girl and looked at the work in marvel. What they saw was nothing short of breathtaking. Indeed, she had captured their likeness flawlessly, and with the speed and precision of a master! But in addition, in the sky above, the vision of two lions, the King and his queen, forever intertwined by fate. They formed the bright light of the sun that shone on the monachs and their kingdom. Alfor smiled.

"Well done," he replied. "There's nothing in this world that would make me happier."

"I can think of one other thing," the queen said, smiling. "My love, you know how we talked for weeks about what the future held for the people of Arus...and for us?"

"Yes, I do," he replied. She looked down and caressed her stomach, and then looked back up at him and smiled. "You...are with child?" Her smile became bigger as she nodded. Indeed, that day, Alfor was the happiest man alive.


"The rest is history," Alexandra replied.

"Who was the artist?" Allura asked. "My father never mentioned this girl to me. Nor has Aunt Orla."

"Of course not," she replied. "The girl was born out of wedlock to a commonner. Orla wouldn't dare disgrace the royal family. She did marry a man who served under your father as a Lion Knight. Last I heard of her, she had been living amongst the commonners on the lower penninsula of the Altean continent."

"What was her name?" Allura asked.

"Lumen," Alexandra replied. "Lumen Truvall. One of the greatest painters of the pre-Zarkonian age." Keith walked into the room.

"Hey," he said. "What's going on here?" He looked at the time. "Not part of my routine. I completely forgot..."

"It's ok, Keith," Allura replied, smiling.

"If your majesty and her prince-consort would kindly stand here and pose, I shall begin," Alexandra said reverently, but with a smile. Keith smiled at Allura, and they walked to the place where they were to stand, and he wrapped his arms around her. She felt warm as he held her...the same way he'd caressed her just weeks ago. Reminded fondly of the night of passion they had shared on their trip to Dradin. Yet, something else was on her mind as well.

"Keith," she said, still posing for the portrait, "how happy are you with me?"

"What?" he asked, taken aback. "What do you mean, Allura?"

"Are you happy?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. "Happier than I could possibly imagine. Why?"

"What could possibly be happier than the time we spent on our getaway a month or so ago?" she asked.

"I can't think of anything off hand," he said, confused. It wasn't until she touched her stomach, then looked up into his eyes...the same way the queen had looked into Alfor's...and he knew.

"A family," he said, calmly, but with the biggest smile imagineable. He held her with more love than they could ever imagine...as the protrait came to life. There would not be two people, but three in this portrait. And it's heart beat with every stroke of Alexandra's brush.