Life on Arus was a study in contrasts. While the sun glowed softly and turned the fields to an aching green, the people were lively and boisterous but when dusk covered the land, the air stilled and became quiet and introspective.
But even though their homes were powered by the same forces that powered Voltron, every year on the harvest eve, the people of Arus bent to an age-old tradition by lighting their homes with candles, fighting back the darkness in a powerful and moving way.
For the people of Arus, the harvest eve marked the end of a season's worth of labor and the beginning of what was going to be a prosperous year. The harvest had been extraordinarily bountiful this year, making this particular occasion a time of thanksgiving.
That was also the reason why Gorma had - much to the Princess' joy - agreed to release her from the hospital wing so that she could grace the harvest celebrations with her presence. A native-born Arussian himself, Gorma knew how much the people needed to see their Princess in the flesh to reassure themselves that she was alive and well.
Nanny shook her head with wry amusement. She could well understand why the people needed reassurance. She was a member of the Royal Household herself and she saw the Princess every day, but she still found Allura's survival a miracle.
Picking up her voluminous white skirts, she began to climb up the stairs to the Royal Chambers with delicious fragrances wafting out to greet her. A quiet smile crossed her face as she recognized the scents of the home of her girlhood - the soaps and perfumes, unguents and creams - that were part of the Cadorian purification ritual.
She nodded her head approvingly, glad that Allura was indulging in the luxury of the full ritual. It was a treat the princess rarely allowed herself, feeling that it was inappropriate for her to live lavishly when there were so many people suffering.
Happiness and remorse rose within Nanny's breast as she considered the person that Allura had become and the small part that she had played in the princess' upbringing.
Allura was a loving and caring person, unspoiled by her station and deeply aware of her responsibilities to those less fortunate than she was, but she was also a young woman who had been deprived of much of her childhood.
While other young girls might have sat dreamy-eyed by their bedroom windows, hoping and dreaming of the future, Allura had been hiding in the caves that ran deep within the Kistrani mountains, terrified of discovery by Zarkon and his troops.
It was good that Keith had come when he did, Nanny thought. He balanced Allura in an extraordinary way, managing to temper her exuberance and zest with steady caution and good sense.
While Allura's actions were guided by intuition and emotion, Keith prided himself in logical and analytical decisionmaking The governess' thin brown eyebrows drew together as she understood why the Princess and her Prince Consort found themselves at cross purposes so often.
Nanny's steps slowed as she entered the Royal suite and made her way to the Princess' dressing room. Unobserved, she paused by the open doorway and watched the scene before her with worried eyes.
Instead of laughing and joking with the maids attending to her as was her custom, the Princess was quiet and introspective. The flickering candlelight highlighted Allura's preoccupation, as she played with her wedding ring, as she was wont to do when she was thinking.
Nanny turned away from the door with a sigh. She was not so old that she could not remember how it felt to be young and in love. A Cadorian term sprung to mind - Iokami - a shadow dance that depicted the excitement, happiness and terror of a courtship.
Allura leaned back and let her thoughts dissolve in the soothing heat and fragrance of the water. She closed her eyes, inhaled the complex, scented herbal steam rising from the water and began to softly sing the ancient Cadorian ritual of purification and rebirth.
With graceful, rhythmic strokes, she washed away the mistakes and regret from her body, and then smoothed on the scented soap of possibility and renewal. Feeling both calm and vibrant with energy, she opened her eyes languidly and let the water wash over her.
The pleasure that glowed in her eyes as she relished the simple joy of being alone was tempered by a pang of guilt as she remembered how she had summarily dismissed her maids from her presence. She hated having to do so. It felt spiteful and petty because their company was normally a welcome distraction. Their stories were her window to normalcy life but also served to remind her that her life, and her relationship with her husband, was far from normal.
"Unfortunately, we cannot count on their discretion, Cheddar," she said, in response to the chittering of the chubby blue space mouse sitting on the soap dish near the tub. "I wish we could. I wish I had someone to talk to other than you, but I don't want to give the gossips more to talk about than they have already."
Waving a paw in the air, the mouse paced back and forth across the soap dish.
"Yes, I remember all of Coran's lectures on noblesse obligee," Allura said. She lowered her tone in imitation of her advisor's cultured rumble,"All things come with a price, Your Highness, even things granted at birth, such as rank and privilege."
The mouse rolled its eyes while making noises that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"But don't I have the right to some privacy?" Allura asked plaintively, stretching out a slender hand in entreaty. "I'm not asking for much, you know. I know I'm never going to have a normal life, but can't I have something that at least approximates it?
Cheddar's chittering grew louder. Bending over, he arched his back like a lion, jogged in place and then sat down and before he jumped onto Allura's hand and pulled on her wedding ring.
"If I find all the attention and all the demands on me overwhelming, Keith would find it even more so," Allura said thoughtfully. "He would probably drive himself to distraction trying to do the best he could to make everyone happy."
Cheddar chirped happily, pleased that the princess had understood what it was he was trying to say. He continued chittering loudly while he pantomimed actions and events with peculiar sweeping gestures.
Allura's eyes clouded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Cheddar," she said, lifting her hand to let the mouse clamber back down onto the soap dish. "I'm glad that you told me. I wouldn't have known otherwise."
As she sank down into the steamy water, she inadvertently sent a flurry of bubbles flying through the air where they caught the faint light and gleamed irridescent in the soft glow of the candles before catching and popping on mouse whiskers.
Twittering indignantly while soapy water dripped down his nose, Cheddar began to fluff the fur dry, scolding the Princess profusely for her lack of consideration. His red eyes gleamed as it jumped off the soap dish and pulled the chain of the drain plug.
Allura shook her head with a small smile, refusing to be drawn into a squabble by her friend's petty attempt at revenge. "It was time to get out anyway," she said with a quiet laugh as she stepped out of the deep, oversized tub.
Keith rubbed the back of his neck as he checked the time on his chronograph. He had been going over some administrative issues with the rest of the Force and somehow - he wasn't quite sure exactly how - he had lost track of time.
Even in his academy days, he had never quite received a dressing down as effective the one Nanny had given him after barging into his meeting with Lance and the rest of the Voltron Force to take him to task for his behaviour.
One thing was sure, Keith thought ruefully with new found respect for his wife and the Castle staff, Nanny was no diplomat - when you dealt with her, you knew exactly where you stood - and he couldn't help but admire her for her honesty and loyalty.
He winced guiltily as he remembered how Nanny had quickly and efficiently pointed out how rude and inconsiderate he was being. After all, it was Allura's first night home and she did have the right to expect her husband to rearrange his busy schedule and make time for her.
Glancing down at the roses he had filtched from the garden as a peace offering, he knocked softly on the door to Allura's bedroom. I hope she's still awake he thought, knocking again with another uncertain glance at his chronograph.
When he recieved no response, he opened the door a crack and stuck his head in, hoping to sneak in and place his gift by Allura's pillow, something he had been forced to do often during his wife's long confinement in the medical facility.
Duty and circumstance had conspired against him then. He would have preferred to stay by her side even after her recovery was certain but his responsibilities - both as Prince Consort and as Captain of the Voltron Force - filled most of his waking hours.
His day started early and ended late. Allura would have everyone believe otherwise, but she still tired easily and more often than not, was already asleep by the time he managed to leave his last meeting. He had fallen into the routine of spending the night in the lounger in Allura's hospital room, guarding her dreams. The only sign of his presence were the small gifts he left behind, to remind his wife that she was never far from his thoughts.
He sighed wearily as he wondered not for the first time, why it was so difficult to do the right thing. Even though he would have wanted to hear her voice and see her smile, he had refused to yield to the temptation to wake Allura while she was sleeping.
She needed her rest.
Gorma said so.
He bit back a groan as he remembered how Allura had looked like, curled up in her bed. With her pillow clasped in a loving embrace and a soft rose blushing her cheeks, she looked unbelievably young and vulnerable.
Pushing open the door, he cursed himself again for being a noble fool.
The room was empy, but he could hear the a golden melody floating in the air. Without being really being aware of it, his steps quickened as he crossed to the adjacent dressing room and called out a greeting.
But when he reached the open door, his greeting died and he forgot everything else he meant to say. He barely managed to keep from swallowing his tongue. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
Allura was glowing, that was the only way he could describe it. Her hair was a rain of pale gold down the back of a robe of silver and in the shadows, her eyes seemed to hold a thousand secrets. The gloriously female scent that swirled around her nearly brought him to his knees.
He must have made some sort of sound because she looked up. "Hey there stranger," Allura greeted him cheerfully. "I haven't seen you for a while. Cheddar was just telling me how busy you and the boys have been. He said that none of you have seen sunlight for days."
"We were finally able to work out everyone's new organizational responsibilities. I kind of let things slide while you were gone, you know," Keith explained apologetically. "It's only now that we got the chance to set up meetings to set everything up..."
"So much to do, so little time? Overwhelming, isn't it?" Allura's answering smile was warm, making the guilt lie heavy within his stomach. She stood and turned to face him. "Please don't worry about it, Keith, I understand."
He searched her face uncertainly, looking for anger or disappointment but all he saw were eyes darkened with love and gentle understanding. He would have rathered recrimation or heated words. They would have been easier for him to handle.
The faint rustle of silk distracted him and he glanced down, just in time to catch a glimpse of creamy leg as she stood up. His eyes widened with disbelief. He had been so glad to see her that he hadn't noticed how she was dressed.
Allura's gown was made almost entirely of fragile lace. It was deceptively modest. It flowed and shifted with each movement she made, revealing glimpses of skin along her arms and her long legs and calling attention to the soft flesh swelling above the bodice.
Flushing faintly, he took a hasty step backwards and stepped on one of the chubby space mice that were never far away from his wife. Ignoring the blue mouse's indignant chirping, he pointedly focused his attention elsewhere, staring blindly at a small watercolor hanging on the wall.
Nobility was overated. He was sure it was going to drive him insane.
Allura stared at her husband's back in puzzled worry, wondering at his strange mood. It was disheartening, to say the very least, to see how stiffly he held himself. He seemed tense and ill at ease.
She drew in a long ragged breath and sat down at her dressing table. Disappointment warred with bewildered hurt. For want of something better to do, she sat down at her dressing table and began to pull the pins out of her hair.
Pride and years of training in deportment came to her rescue once again. Her posture was perfectly straight, but a tickle in the back of her throat warned her that tears were not very far away. She kept her eyes resolutely downward, not wanting to look at her mirror, knowing that she would hate seeing the pale, unhappy face there.
Picking up her brush, she began to count out the strokes. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Although she often protested against having to brush her hair so much, for once she was absurdly grateful to Nanny for having given her this mindless ritual to concentrate on.
She looked up when Keith took the brush away from her suddenly nerveless hands. "You missed a few pins," he pointed out gently, taking out one pin, then another, before combing his hands through her tumbling hair.
An aching lump began to swell in Allura's throat as she returned his tentative smile with one of her own even as she blinked her eyes to hide the tears that threatened to blur the reflection of the handsome, grave man standing behind her.
"I shouldn't have disturbed you, Sunshine. I know how much you need your rest," Keith said at long last, just as Allura thought that the silence had become unbearable. "I just wanted to drop by and say good night."
His apology sent her over the edge. Her throat knotted and tears began to trickle down her cheeks. Embarassed by her emotional display, she ducked her head, hoping that Keith hadn't noticed but as it was too late.
"Oh Princess, you're crying," he murmured. Taking her by the arms with a firm grasp, he pulled her up and took her in his arms. "I'm sorry for everything... I didn't mean to make you cry... Don't cry, please, Allura, I can't bear it when I see you cry."
Her breath came in a hitch as she stried to stop crying, but the rumble of his voice and the feel of his arms after such a long time only made the tears come faster. "Please, Sunshine, tell me what's wrong," Keith whispered again, pressing what felt like a kiss onto the top of her head. "Please."
It was the final please that did it. Allura blinked out the last of her tears and hid her face against his shoulder while she wondered how to tell him how unhappy she was and how this farce of a marriage was tearing her heart into two.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and pulled away, gathered her courage and what little remained of her pride. Picking up her skirts, she turned away and crossed the room, stopping only when she had reached a safe distance. "Why don't you want me?"
"Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly?" Keith asked, staring at his wife with a jaw slack with disbelief. "What do you mean, why don't I want you?" He watched with bemusement as embarassed color bloomed on Allura's cheeks.
Her chin went up in a haughty gesture that he recognized - regal disdain was something his princess effected only when she felt unsure and threatened - and another wave of guilt slithered up his spine.
She bit her lip nervously. "I know you love me... and you know how much I love you... but you must agree with me that our marriage isn't a normal one. Outside of meals, we hardly see each other... and we can barely spend five minutes together without fighting..."
Approaching her carefully, he carefully chose his words. "I don't think you got a very good bargain in me, Sunshine." he said huskily, holding her gaze with his own, projecting as much sincerity as he could into his tone.
"You deserve so much more than I can give you... but please believe me when I tell you that this heartless, unfeeling husband of yours wants you more than anything in the world." Reminding himself to be grateful for small mercies, he watched confusion play across her face, keeping her still while he approached her with the silent pantherish gait that closed the distance between them with a few steps.
"You're all that I could ever want, Princess Mine," he murmured, taking her into his arms. "All that I'll ever need... I had to keep busy... to stay away. Not because I don't want you... but because I wanted you TOO much... because I needed you too much."
He tasted her startled gasp as his mouth branded her as his. He caught her hair and pulled her head back, wanting to see her eyes. There were no words to translate what was churning inside him so he wasted none. "You will never doubt that again."
He lifted her into his arms and carried as if she were made out of precious crystal. Allura was small and delicate, fresh and untouched, and through some miracle his. His pulse throbbed with both anticipation and fear as he remembered how easy it was to damage delicacy.
Moonbeams danced around them as he laid her out onto the bed and lowered his mouth to hers in a deep drugging kiss that both soothed and enticed. Smothering his own fears, he pressed his lips to her brow. "Allura, I won't hurt you, I swear it."
"I know," she whispered. He could feel the way her hands trembled lightly as she reached out to hold him against her. When his lips left her forehead, it was to take a slow, lazy journey of her face until he felt her nervous trembling fall away into pliancy.
Even as he felt Allura's surrender, he kept the pace slow, patiently leading her through the layers of sensations. His fingers tangled in the luxurious length of her hair and to please himself, he spread it over the pillow, where it lay like a pool of golden sunlight against the soft snowy linen.
"Beautiful. So beautiful."
The husky tenor of Keith's voice had Allura's mind floating back from where it had drifted to. Her lips curved into a quiet smile at the intensity of his voice. She had never believed words like that mattered, until now.
Instinctively, avidly, she arched against him and met his lips with her own. One by one, her muscles uncoiled as his flavor seeped into her. Fascinated by his taste and texture, she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue and was rewarded when she heard him purr quietly in response.
With a sigh, Allura raised herself to him and wrapped herself around him, offering him her body as she had once offered her trust. When he slipped off her nightgown, the breeze and his fingertips were whispered kisses against her skin.
Needs that had budded shyly within her flashed into full bloom. Fear tangled with them, creating an ache so fierce that she shook from it. She should have known that it would be like this with him. He made her feel loved. Cherished. Safe.
Her skin was like cream. Unbearably soft and fragrant. It drew him like nectar, inviting him to taste and so he did. He tasted the speed of the pulse that fluttered in her throat before trailing lower to taste the inviting swell of a pale breast.
The quiet, strangled sound she made deep in her throat echoed like thunder in his head. The sensation of her body arching against his in surprise and pleasure set fire to his blood. He wanted to give her everything he had to give. And he wanted to take everything that she had.
Fighting for control, he dug his fisted hands into the mattress. Her beauty scorched his heart and made his blood churn like white water, but he checked the urge to hurry and touched her with his fingertips, skimming them over curves and dips.
His eyes were dark with promise as he trailed a finger down the center of her body, enchanted by the contrast of his flesh against hers. His head swam when her eyes glazed and his name shuddered from her lips. "Princess Mine. Don't be afraid."
"No." Rocked to the core, Allura held him close. "Not of you..." she breathed. "Never of you." In the candle glow, his face was hard and dark with passion - but there was as much tenderness as desire
"I love you," she whispered, laying a tentative hand on his chest. The reflexive clenching of his muscles made her eyes fill with wonder. She started to move her fingers, then hesitated, not quite certain if it was proper to touch him.
"Touch me... Take off my shirt," Keith whispered hoarsely, barely hearing the thud of his boots hitting the ground as he kicked them off with savage force. His breath caught, released and shuddered at the silky feel of her hands on his bare back. Everything inside him was tangled and streaming. He had to take her mouth again or die.
She moaned when she tugged his shirt away, when his flesh slid over her skin. This was what she had wanted for them. An intimacy that was more than that of the body. It was a joining of mind to mind.
His mouth took hers again as he slid his hand between her legs, slipped his fingers past silk and lace and found heat. Shifting her onto her back, Keith slid his finger deep into her wet warmth. She came in a flood, fast and full with her body bucking against him.
Fears melted away. There was no room for them when her body was vibrating from dozens of vivid sensations. When he took her to the peak again, she rode out the storm, glorying in the flash of heat, desperate for the next. Then his mouth was on hers again, hotter now, hungrier now, giving her no chance to catch either breath or sanity.
"I love you, Princess Mine," Keith whispered hoarsely. His breath hitched as he managed to drag his pants down over his hips. The need to fill and possess pounded in his head and beat mercilessly in his loins but he forced it back with ruthless determination.
"It wasn't the right time for us before," he breathed. "But it's perfect. Let me show you how perfect it will be." Drawing back, he eased himself between her legs. With the breath laboring in his lungs and the blood pounding in his head, he entered her, expecting her to stiffen and cry out.
But she didn't stiffen, and only gasped out her name as her arms came around him. The brief flash of pain was instantly forgotten as the pleasure climbed higher and higher, lifting her body and sweeping though her mind.
Guided by pure instinct and a wealth of love, Allura strained toward him in trembling need, surrendering herself willingly to the rhythmic demands of his hard body while within her, an uncontrollable inner excitement began to build.
"Reach for it, sweetheart," Keith rasped out hoarsely. He steadily began to increase the tempo of his deep, driving thrusts as he heard the sound of her low, frantic gasp. His chest heaved with the force of each labored breath. "Let me give it to you."
Slowly, silkily, he spun it out, savoring their union. Letting himself slip in even deeper, he could see the wonder in her eyes. She strained toward him in trembling need and he drove into her again and again in a desparate need to take her with him all the way.
When she crested, he swallowed her scream of shock and release. Love and passion, dreams and desire stabbed in his heart. Helpless against all that he was feeling, he buried his face in her hair and let himself go.
As his breathing slowed and he regained the strength to move once again, Keith rolled onto his side and drew his wife once again into his arms. "Beautiful princess, Princess Mine," he whispered in a voice still thick and raspy with passion.
With a purr of pleasure, Allura curled her arms around him and laid her head trustingly on his shoulder. Struck by the wonder of what had taken place between them, she lifted her head and touched a hand to his cheek.
"I love you," Allura whispered, and heard him say it at exactly the same time. Smiling sleepily, she let the flood of weariness overtake her. She fell into a dreamless sleep while the scent and feel of him surrounded her.
The small mouse peeked inquisitively into the darkened room, seeing first the clothes that lay in an ignominious heap on the floor beside the bed then the two bodies that lay entwined in the huge bed.
It scampered across the room into a mouse-hole and ran through the tunnels that ran the length of the castle into a warm room. Chittering happily, it ran up the leg of a chair onto the lap of the room's only occupant, a plump woman sitting quietly with her embroidery.
Nanny blinked in surprise and wonder at the sight of the small blue creature on her lap but her smile soon turned to delight as she watched its pantomime and listened and to what it had to say. "That's wonderful, little one!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad to hear that it has happened."
She looked around her room distractedly, focusing her gaze on the half-eaten remains of her midnight snack. She lifted the saucer and set it down on the floor so that the mouse could easily reach it. "Here, Cheddar, take this as a sign of my gratitude."
Bowing politely in acceptance of Nanny's offering, the mouse chirped noisly as it scampered down onto the floor, where it began to feast on a large chunk of cheese. Payment given and accepted for a job well done.
