Dark Angel
By Icewyche
Disclaimer: I don't own the Voltron Force characters. I think that pretty much goes without saying. Also, some of the dialogue in the memory sequences has been quoted or paraphrased from the original Voltron series; this dialogue is the property of World Events Productions.
Romelle, Princess of Pollux, gritted her teeth against the waves of pain that assailed her. She had never in her life imagined that anything could hurt so much. She wanted to scream, but would not give in to the urge --- she was a princess, after all, and she had her pride. It was one of the few things she could cling to now.
She squeezed her eyes shut as another burst of pain seared through her. A voice whispered beside her, "Hold on …hold on." A voice she knew well.
Romelle let herself slip back into the mists of memory….
~~~~~
…She was just nineteen and a prisoner of the evil Prince Lotor. Kidnapped from her home and spirited to Planet Doom, her older brother gone, her father's mind shattered and her planet under siege, she had nonetheless found the strength to defy Lotor. She had even escaped once, but he had recaptured her and now kept her under constant watch. He wanted her for his bride. The thought repelled and sickened her and she had told him so. She would never betray the Voltron Force; she would rather die than share the disgrace of his throne. Enraged, Lotor had had his soldiers blast her into the Pit of Skulls. Dazed and aching, she had lain at the bottom of the pit wishing for a miracle… and he had appeared.
She had always thought of angels as pale, golden beings, serene and ephemeral, appearing before mortals with white robes and shining halos in a dazzle of light. But this angel had midnight hair and tormented blue-emerald eyes that glittered strangely in the frail light of a single candle. He wore no pristine robes, only the rough garb of a slave, and the hand that clasped hers and dragged her through the dark caves was warm and solid. He led her to safety --- and then he turned on her.
He was mad, he told her, his green eyes flashing; crazy and dangerous and he wanted her out of his sight. Had he been anyone else she might have complied, but she had seen the intelligence in his eyes. He wasn't crazy; deeply hurt, yes, but not crazy. She looked into that beautiful, oddly familiar face, and suddenly she knew.
"You're Sven, the Blue Lion," she had said wonderingly.
"How dare you?!" he had hissed. There was no Sven, he told her furiously; that man was gone, vanished forever, nothing. But Romelle knew the truth now and she clung to it fiercely, and finally he broke down and conceded. He had failed, he confessed tearfully. He had been critically injured in one of witch Haggar's attacks on Arus and had been sent to another planet to heal. But Zarkon had attacked that small, defenseless world and taken its people as slaves --- and Sven, comatose and weak, had been helpless to defend them. Deemed useless by the slavemasters of Planet Doom, he had been left to die… until a vision of his former self had awakened him from his coma. Tortured by the memory of his failure, he had fled to the underground caves, where he lived the life of a shadow. "I'll never be the man I used to be," he told Romelle, his voice breaking.
Romelle had wanted to hold him then, to wrap her arms around him and shield him from the pain that still tore at him, and indeed it had been a struggle not to do just that. Instead she told him firmly that she needed to get to the surface of Planet Doom and that he had to lead her. Would he help her? Her voice brooked no refusal, and Sven had reluctantly agreed.
They had watched as a group of slaves stole one of Zarkon's transport ships in a desperate break for freedom that was quickly quashed. The renegades had been punished
--- and Romelle had witnessed for the first time the true depths of Lotor's brutality. Lotor demanded that Romelle surrender herself in exchange for the slaves' lives. She had taken a step forward, but one of the slaves, apparently the leader, had stopped her. They would not be spared no matter what she did, he had said. He had been right. She watched in horror as Haggar unleashed her grotesque Iron Maiden Robeast on the helpless slaves, crushing them without mercy. Sven stood beside her, his face an icy mask. Now she knew why he had gone mad, he told her. He had watched their cruelty again and again, day after day… and he had been powerless to stop it.
Romelle stood in the shadows, wrapped in a cloak, tears streaming down her face, knowing that there was only one way to stop the slaughter. "I can't allow this," she had choked out. She took a step forward, but Sven seized her hand, stopping her. She was needed on Pollux, he told her fiercely. She alone knew the key to the defense plan that could save her people, and they needed her. "You must get back to them!" he had insisted, his blue-green eyes alight with a new fire.
Romelle gazed deep into those eyes, filled now with determination and purpose. His courage strengthened her and gave her the will to fight for her family, for her people --- and for him. "When this is over," she had asked him then, "will you stay with me on Pollux? I can't protect my world alone… will you help me?" He had looked startled for a moment, then nodded. "If you want me, then I will," he said quietly. Then he dropped gracefully to one knee before her and raised her hand to his lips in an elegant gesture of homage, swearing his fealty to her, his princess.
They had mustered another group of rebels and made plans to escape --- Zarkon would never expect another stolen ship, Sven had said logically. They had just barely made it out, but they had been forced to leave their gallant defenders behind. As she and Sven raced up the gangway of the slave ship, Romelle had taken one look back, her eyes filled with tears. "Someday we'll come back," she had vowed, "and we'll free all the slaves of Planet Doom…."
~~~~~
Romelle opened her eyes as the pain eased slightly. She turned her head and gazed into familiar green eyes. "How are you feeling?" Sven asked her anxiously. When all she could manage was a weak smile, he turned angrily to the doctor hovering nearby. "Can't you do anything?" he demanded.
"We've done all we can," the doctor said, knowing it wasn't the answer Sven wanted to hear. "All we can do now is wait." Sven glared, and Romelle would have giggled if she hadn't felt so lousy. Most people saw Sven as calm and composed, keeping his head no matter how tense the situation. Most people didn't know him the way she did.
Another pain stabbed her, and Romelle remembered….
~~~~~
…They had kept their word, returning to Planet Doom to stop Zarkon's latest plan to conquer the galaxy. The plan had involved an enormous army of Robeasts, supercharged with lazon from a satellite whose location was known only to Zarkon and Lotor. Romelle had wondered how they were going to discover the satellite's whereabouts in time to warn the Voltron Force, but Sven had had a plan --- a really insane one.
"With this costume, I'll look just like a Robeast," he had said, holding up the hideous disguise. "That's how I'll get aboard that starship."
Romelle had stared at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised. "Sven," she finally managed, "do you really think you're going to be able to fool them with that costume?"
A wry smile curved Sven's lips. "There's only one way to find out," he said ruefully.
The plan wasn't what anyone would have expected from Sven. It was bizarre, it was insane, it was incredibly dangerous. Naturally, it worked. He made it aboard the Robeast transport, found the lazon factory's location, then blew up the Robeast ship for good measure. Of course, he neglected to tell Romelle that he had made it out safely.
She had been sitting dejectedly on a boulder outside the safety of their cave shelter when a pair of black-gloved hands covered her eyes. Startled, she jumped up and whirled to face the intruder, instinctively reaching for the blaster at her hip. Then she saw the laughing emerald eyes beneath the helmet of a Doom soldier. Her relief at his safety was almost palpable, but Sven just laughed and teased her for worrying. He thinks it's just a joke, she thought, turning away in annoyance. I should have shot him after all.
Sven placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Come on," he cajoled her with a sweet smile. "I know you missed me." For a second she contemplated pressing her lips to his and showing him just how much she had missed him, but decided she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She turned up her nose and jerked her shoulders from his grasp, then impulsively made a face at him.
"No, I didn't," she told him haughtily. "I hardly noticed you were gone." The look on his face had been priceless. She stalked regally away, leaving him blinking in confusion.
"Hmpf," she heard him say ruefully. "So much for a hero's welcome…."
~~~~~
The pains were getting worse now, and they were happening closer together. Strands of her blonde hair clung wetly to her forehead and Sven tenderly smoothed them away, bathing her face with a damp cloth. She knew he felt helpless and she wanted to reassure him, but her own agony preoccupied her.
Romelle felt Sven slip an arm beneath her shoulders, supporting her as his other hand found hers. "Hold on to me," he whispered. She clutched his hand so tightly it must have hurt him, but if it did he gave no sign. He would be strong for both of them now, despite his own frustration.
My poor darling, Romelle thought. His gifts were those of empathy and foresight, not of healing; he could feel others' pain, could sense their danger, but he couldn't make that pain go away. It was what had driven him to the brink of madness when he had been enslaved on Planet Doom --- he had heard, deep within his mind, the anguished cries of Zarkon and Lotor's victims, tormenting him constantly with the reality of his own helplessness. Of course, it had also led him to her, he had later confessed shyly; he had felt her pain and fear and heard her silent cry for help. He had gotten much better at shielding himself against unwanted visions and other psychic intrusions and could now raise and lower his barriers at will…unless someone he loved was suffering.
She felt him cradle her protectively, willing his strength into her, and she smiled inwardly. She knew he would take all of her pain onto himself if she let him, but she had no intention of allowing that. He could be fiercely headstrong at times, but at least she could protect him in this.
Unlike that last time….
~~~~~
…The battle had been fierce and grueling, but now the worst was over. The forces of Doom had been defeated by the combined might of the Voltron Force and the army of rebels led by Sven and Romelle. Newly freed slaves cheered as they herded their former captors away, and the atmosphere was one of celebration and an almost boundless joy --- which had to be a first for Planet Doom, Romelle had mused. Zarkon had slunk away in defeat, and Haggar had actually aided the Voltron Force before vanishing to who-knew-where. Only one of the evil triad remained --- Lotor.
Sven had run ahead of her, but she saw him grab a Doom soldier and say something, hatred and anger blazing in his eyes. She didn't hear what was said by either of them, but a moment later Sven shoved the cyborg away from him and turned to face the ruined Castle Doom. Then he started toward it.
Romelle had moved quickly to intercept him. "Please don't go in there, Sven," she begged.
"I have to, Romelle…because of what he did," came the quiet but inflexible reply. He turned away, but she could tell from the set of his shoulders that Sven was very angry. "Kidnapping you and throwing you into the Pit of Skulls, forcing me to live in the caves under Planet Doom like an animal!" His voice snapped with fury for a moment, then grew calmer. "You're the one who saved me…but I swore I'd find him." He turned to face her then, and she knew that nothing she could say would sway him. "Understand?" he asked quietly.
Romelle gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes filling with tears. She wanted to plead with him not to go, not to risk his life this way, but she couldn't. The look in those blue-green eyes forbade it. He had to face the demon or he would never heal. She came from a family of warriors. She understood vengeance.
"Take this, Sven," she told him, handing him a small, graceful dagger. "And remember that, no matter what happens…my heart is with you."
"Thank you, Romelle," he replied quietly. He gazed intently at her for a moment, as if he were memorizing her face. "Farewell," he whispered…and was gone.
His vengeance had nearly destroyed him. Lotor had taken him hostage, and the monster's demand was simple --- Voltron's destruction for Sven's life. And despite Sven's pleas, the Voltron Force had offered up the mighty robot. They would not let a friend die, no matter what sacrifice they had to make. Fortunately, Allura's brave mouse friends took matters into their own hands --- or paws. They distracted Lotor, enabling Sven to destroy the evil prince's huge laser cannon. But the resulting explosion had also destroyed Lotor's tower.
As long as she lived, Romelle would never forget the horrific sight that followed --- her beloved Sven plunging groundward from the ruined tower, locked in a death struggle with his mortal enemy. She had screamed his name, reaching out as if she could somehow stop his fall, but she and the others could only watch helplessly as Lotor and Sven disappeared into the moat that had surrounded Castle Doom.
Later, after the explosions from the tower had ceased, they found Sven lying on the bank of the moat --- battered, bloody, and soaking wet, but miraculously alive. Romelle had gathered him protectively into her arms, and he had opened his eyes and given her an angel's smile. "It's finally over, isn't it?" he had murmured.
Romelle kissed his forehead. "Yes, my angel," she told him, not caring what anyone else thought about the endearment. "It's finally over." He sighed contentedly and fell asleep in her embrace.
And peace had reigned…for a while….
~~~~~
Snow was falling heavily outside her window, and Romelle watched it through her agonized daze. It was getting harder and harder to hold back her cries now, and soon even that small bit of control would evaporate. The snow looked wonderfully cold, and she was tempted to ask them to take her out in it --- anything to cool this raging fever, this horrible sickness. I know we all have to go through this eventually, she thought, but why does it have to be so unbelievably painful?
"Damn it, can't you do anything for her?" Sven hissed at the doctor. "How can you let her suffer like this?"
"There is nothing more we can do," the doctor told Sven gently but firmly. "We've done everything we can. It won't be too much longer."
"Darling, stop snapping at the doctor," Romelle told her beloved weakly, then managed a tiny smile. "This is your fault, you know."
Sven hugged her close, not caring that she was drenched in sweat and trembling with pain. "I'm sorry, love," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I never thought --- "
"Shhh," Romelle shushed him. "It's all right. I'm not sorry, you know. I wouldn't change a thing." She buried her face against his neck, finding some comfort in his warmth and the clean, familiar scent of him. "Not a single thing," she whispered. Safe in his arms, she turned her face to the window again. It snowed on our wedding day, too, she thought, and another faint smile crossed her lips. And what a time we had getting there….
~~~~~
…His wounds had healed, but Sven had remained on Pollux. There had been a great deal of rebuilding to do; the planet had been ravaged by Zarkon and Lotor's attacks. Sven threw himself into the work with a vengeance. He had left the royal castle for a small cottage near the site of a dam he was helping to rebuild, saying that it was closer and that he really didn't belong at the castle anyway. He was, after all, just a pilot…a commoner. Romelle had missed him terribly, but she had not wanted to burden him with that knowledge. So they had lived their separate lives, but Romelle remembered the look in his eyes when he had said goodbye to her…and she wondered.
Then had come the sneak attack by Planet Doom --- a group of Haggar's slaves pretending to crash-land on Pollux. They had managed to lure Sven away before taking over the castle, with Romelle and Bandor as their hostages. The plan had been to draw the Voltron Force to Pollux and into Haggar's trap at the newly-built dam. When that plan had failed, Haggar had transformed one of the false slaves into a Robeast and captured Romelle and Bandor. Voltron had been defenseless, unable to attack the Robeast without hurting its captives. It was Sven who had had the idea to sever the monster's claw, releasing Romelle and Bandor into a terrifying freefall from which Pidge had caught them easily. The Robeast had been quickly dispatched, Lotor and Haggar had slunk away in defeat, and Sven and Romelle had been reunited…but not without finally confessing their feelings for one another.
It wasn't the last time they had had to face danger, either. There had been the conference at Galaxy Garrison, which Sven had attended as the Polluxian representative. The delegates had been taken prisoner by Lotor, but not before the Voltron Force had made it to their Lions. Lotor had played his usual dirty tricks, however, and had beaten Coran as the Force looked on in horror. They had had no choice but to surrender. But Sven had also managed to escape Lotor's clutches and he had led a small group of Garrison soldiers against the invaders, arriving just in time to stop Cossack from harming Keith. The Voltron Force regained their Lions and Galaxy Garrison was saved. Of course, what Sven didn't tell Romelle --- she found out about it later from Allura --- was that he had been the one piloting the Blue Lion during the rescue of Galaxy Garrison. Allura had still been in Lotor's grasp at the time. "I should have known," Romelle told Sven wryly. "I let you out of my sight for a few days and you promptly get into trouble. You just couldn't be a hostage like everybody else, could you? Sometimes I think you're worse than Bandor." Sven had laughed and mock-solemnly promised to behave the next time Galaxy Garrison was overrun by evildoers.
Then there had been Keith's birthday party on Arus. She had not attended, but Sven had --- and had nearly been poisoned, along with the rest of the Voltron Force, by Queen Merla's bespelled nectar drink. Only sheer luck, and some rambunctious mice, had saved them. The incident had shaken Sven deeply. If it hadn't been for the mice, he realized, he would have died --- and without ever telling Romelle just how much he truly cared for her. That day was one of Romelle's most precious memories. It was the day Sven had finally told her that he loved her.
A few months later Zarkon set up a base on Pollux, and Sven, Bandor, and a small group of castle security guards had gone out to investigate. She had watched the battle from afar on the castle's monitors; Sven had absolutely forbidden her to get anywhere near Zarkon's base and Bandor had backed him up on this one. She saw the enormous centipede Robeast that Zarkon unleashed, saw it take down the four Voltron Lions that had come to the rescue. And then, when things seemed hopeless, she saw something she would never have believed otherwise --- Lotor actually aiding the Voltron Force. She found out later that it had been the beginning of a war between the Doom Prince and his father… but that was another story. After the battle, her weary warriors had returned to the castle, a little battered but otherwise whole, and she had happily welcomed them both. Bandor had squirmed away from her hug and gone off to play video games, but Sven had held her tightly and accepted her invitation of a stroll through the castle gardens.
They sat on a bench in the rose arbor, Sven's arm about her shoulders. The stars twinkled brightly overhead and the warm night air was redolent with the fragrance of hundreds of fully blooming roses. "It's so peaceful," Sven had mused, tilting his head back to study the night sky. "Hard to believe we just had to fight for our lives."
"Mmmm," Romelle agreed, snuggling closer to him. She turned her head slightly to gaze at his beautiful profile. "Darling, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Sven turned to look at her, a mildly curious look in his eyes. Romelle went on, "I know you're probably tired, and this may not be the best time to bring this up, but --- " She took a deep breath and looked squarely into those green eyes. "Sven…will you marry me?"
To say he had been startled would have been an understatement. It had taken him well over a minute just to get his voice to work again. "Romelle, are you sure about this?" he had finally managed to ask her. She was a royal princess; her family had ruled Pollux in an unbroken dynastic line for centuries. He was the son of a Norwegian shipping magnate and a Russian ice dancer; a pilot, a former Doom slave, a commoner --- a decorated officer of the Galaxy Alliance, maybe, but still a commoner. The only thing he had to offer her was his heart…and she already had that, he told her with a rueful little smile. But this time Romelle was not going to back down. So he could only offer his heart --- that was the only thing she wanted.
"I've learned one thing from all we've been through," she told him. "I've learned that life is short and you have to reach out for your happiness while you can. Sven, I could have lost you tonight. I promised myself that if you came back to me safely I would tell you how I felt. I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I don't give a damn what anybody else thinks about that, and neither should you. I think we've earned that right. You and I have risked our lives time and again to make sure other people have a chance at a happy life. Now it's our turn. Will you marry me, angel?"
He had stared at her for a moment longer, surprised by the passion in her words and the fierce determination in her eyes. Then he smiled, a shy, beautiful, tender smile…and said yes.
~~~~~
She screamed.
There were other memories: his eyes lighting up as she walked down the aisle toward him on their wedding day; the way he had more than made up for his overly gentlemanly courtship of her on their wedding night ; his gentle patience with Bandor, helping the boy grow into a wise, strong young man; the joy on his face when she told him she was carrying their first child. But the pain overran everything now, and she could only ride it out and wait for the inevitable end. She didn't even bother trying to hold back her cries now --- she just wanted it to be over.
She could dimly hear voices around her; they seemed to be shouting but she couldn't really make out any words. The only thing that was real now was this ferocious, blazing agony that tore into her like razor-sharp claws. She knew it would all end soon, and she was glad. A huge, white-hot wave of pain devoured her then, and she embraced it with one fierce, final scream. Then finally, mercifully it was over…and the enraged howl of a newborn infant filled the room.
"Congratulations," the doctor said with a broad smile. "It's a girl."
"She's so beautiful," Sven said, for what must have been the fourth time in the past twenty minutes.
Romelle smiled tenderly at her husband, who cradled their baby daughter in his arms. "Sweetheart, she's wrinkled and red and scrunched-up and fuzzy and she has a voice like an air-raid siren," she teased.
Sven didn't budge. "She's still beautiful," he insisted stubbornly. He turned those blue-green eyes on his wife, and the love in his gaze brought tears to Romelle's eyes. "Thank you, my darling," he said simply. Their eyes met and there were no more words necessary.
A peaceful silence lay over the room for several moments. Finally Sven asked, "What do you want to name her?"
Romelle chuckled ruefully. "To be honest, I hadn't really given it a whole lot of thought," she confessed. "It was kind of the last thing on my mind."
"I can imagine," Sven commiserated softly, reluctantly handing the baby back to Romelle as he caressed her cheek. "You were so brave…but she will need a name eventually," he added lightly. "And since we agreed that you would name our first child…."
"Don't remind me," Romelle said, rolling her eyes. "Of course, we could always let Bandor name her, since she is his heir, at least for the time being…." She broke off at Sven's look. "Or maybe not."
The faint sound of bells filtered in through the window, and Romelle turned to look at her husband. "Are those church bells?" she asked. "Bandor didn't make the announcement already, did he?"
Sven tilted his head slightly and listened for a moment. "They're the bells for midnight mass," he said, then smiled. "I had almost forgotten…it's Christmas Eve."
"So she's a Christmas baby," Romelle mused. A smile curved her lips. "Noelle."
The infant opened her eyes suddenly and made a tiny cooing sound, startling both her parents. "I guess she approves," Romelle said with a soft laugh.
"Noelle it is, then," Sven agreed. He wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter, smiling into Romelle's sky-blue eyes. "I love you," he told her, and it was both affirmation and vow.
Romelle leaned her head against his shoulder and their lips met in a kiss filled with promises of tomorrow. No matter what happened, she knew, no matter where their lives took them he would always be at her side, her husband, her lover, her friend and protector --- her dark angel.
"I love you, too," she said. "Merry Christmas, my darling."