Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron or its original Japanese version Golion; nor do I own The Scarlet Pimpernel by the Baroness Orczy. Both are the property of their original creators and/or importers/dubbers. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
(A/N: Okay, so I'm just getting more and more psyched as the theater date draws near –Thursday if you're curious- and I find that I'm focusing on this story more than my main one. For that I apologize. But I'm about 70 percent sure that after Thursday my enthusiasm will be spent and my obsession with the Pimpernel will once again to dormant and this fiction will be abandoned and forgotten and likely not finished.)
The Azure Pimpernel
Chapter Two: He's Very Deep
Not long after refugees from Galra began arriving on Altea, fleeing the terror and hardships of Imperial slavery, Princess Amue of Heracles also landed. Princess Fala was overjoyed to see her cousin whom had been working along side Shirogane Ryou and his rebels for months. Words could not express the relief Fala felt at seeing her cousin alive and well. The two women could often be seen taking long walks in the castle gardens or sitting down to tea in one of the many common areas of the castle grounds.
Amue told her Altean cousin about their struggle against the Empire, a slight blush always coloring her delicate fair cheeks always at the mention of Ryou's name. The Heraclesian princess was smitten with the young rebel and Fala found this to be a subject of great amusement. And then the topic of conversation would turn to that illusive and mysterious character, the Azure Pimpernel…
"And so, who do you think he is?" Fala would ask with interest, leaning in conspiratorily close to her beloved cousin. "Do you think he might actually be Ryou? Ya know, he always does were that blue shirt all the time…"
At this Amue would laugh, a bright cheerful sound like the chime of a bell. "No, Ryou's not the Pimpernel, he's just as interested to know who he is same as everyone else. Can you imagine what our little group could do if we could communicate with him freely?"
"How do you communicate with him?" The Altean princess asked.
Her cousin shrugged, the motion making the fabric of her dress rustle softly. "We don't really. He's always the one to contact us. Usually it's noting more than a hand written note with a date and time and a few basic instruction. The notes are never signed, at least, not with a name; there's just always a drawing of a small blue flower at the bottom of every card."
"Oh, he sounds so mysterious!" Fala said, almost giddy at the idea of the phantom like champion of justice.
"Ya know…" Now it was Amue's turn to lean in conspiratorially. "There's no real evidence to suggest that the Pimpernel is male. The Pimpernel could be a woman. In fact, you would be an excellent candidate to be the Azure Pimpernel."
"Me?" The princess blinked her summer-sky blue eyes in shock.
Amue nodded. "You're Altean, an azure pimpernel is a flower that only grows on Altea. You're a very beautiful woman; a flower is a common metaphor for a beautiful woman. You're a princess and have the power and resources to do exactly what the Pimpernel does and you pilot Blue Lion. You're a beautiful Alean flower that pilots an azure mech."
At this Fala laughed, a warm velvety laugh that always managed to warm the hearts of those who heard it. "You do realize, Amue, that everything you just said –minus be Altean and the piloting the Lion part- everything you just said could apply to you as well. So, Ryou's not the Pimpernel… is it you, then?"
Before the Heraclesian princess had time to answer, Kogane Akira, Chief of the Golion team and pilot of Black Lion entered the common area when the women were taking tea.
"Oh god, not you too!" He moaned. "Gah! Ever since people started coming over in droves that's all I've ever heard about! The Pimpernel this! The Pimpernel that! Its damned annoying to all the rest of us brave men risking our lives against the Empire!"
"Sounds to me like you're just jealous." Fala cast a wiry smile sideways at him.
"Kogane, you're a dashing young hero-type, surely you must know who the Pimpernel is!" Amue cried.
"Oh god! Don't put that out there!" The Black Lion pilot groaned. "The moment any of these silly women starts to think I might know him I'll have them hanging off me in droves with their endless questions. Contrary to what Marvel and DC might have you believe, us freedom-fighting dashing rogues don't all know each other or hang out in super-secret clubs."
An idea occurred to Fala then and a suspicious grin spread over her lovely face. "Are you the Pimpernel, Kogane?"
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." The Chief shook his head and sat down. He poured himself a cup of tea, adding a single sugar cube and a slice of lemon to it. He sipped the tea experimentally before adding another lemon slice. "I actually came here with some good news. Or bad news depending on how you look at it."
"Oh?" Both women replied in stereo.
"Daibazaal wants to organize a peace treaty with the Leo Alliance." Kogane casually announced and sipped his tea.
"That's wonderful!" Fala all but leap from her seat in sudden excitement. She walked circles around the table and did a little pirouette-like twirl. "I never would have thought I'd see that day! Oh, this is fabulous news! What are you talking about 'or bad news'? You're crazy!"
"He's sending Sincline as his envoy." The Chief added in a flat detached tone over the lip of his teacup, his eyes watching the princess to gauge her reaction. "The cad will be living here in the castle until the terms of the treaty can be agreed upon. You'll get to see him every day."
"Oh." Fala sank back into her seat. "Well, poo. That is unfortunate news."
…
The intercom in the prince's stateroom aboard his flagship buzzed obnoxiously breaking the nearly tranquil silence of his cabin.
"What is it?" The Prince Imperial growled into the comm.
"We have entered Altean planetary space and are begging our final approach now, sir." Came back the deck officer's uneasy reply.
Sincline switched off the comm. after muttering a curt 'thank you'. He picked up the book he had been reading prior to the interruption. A small but thick hand written book in an old and scuffed leather binding. Not a printed book but rather a journal –his mother's journal. Prince Imperial Sincline, only child of the Emperor Daibazaal and heir to the throne of Galra was also the son of a slave –a slave that had originally been from Altea.
He packed the book back away in his trunk with loving care, it was all he had of his long dead mother the woman having died when he had been to young to form even a single memory of her. It was by simple chance that he had found it when he was younger. Growing up as his father's son had been no easy task and in his younger days the prince often found himself hiding from his father for numerous and varied reasons. One day he had been taking refuge under the bed in an unused chamber on the royal residential floor when his hand brushed against the journal's leather cover. It had been deliberately wedged between the mattress and the bed frame and the young prince had been curious at to what it might be and who could have hidden it. For as long as he could remember the room had never been occupied.
It wasn't until later when he was reading it alone in his own room that Sincline discovered it to have been written by his own mother. Upon the discovery, the journal became an instant treasure to the prince and he guarded it well. From it he had learned much, not only of the woman that had birth him but also of the planet from which she had hailed. He had become enthralled with Altea long before his father ever sent him there, is was no real surprise that he had quickly fallen in love with its princess.
Sincline closed and locked his trunk before wandering over to the window; gazing out its thick transparesteel pane he watched the planet rise up beneath the ship. A beautiful blue jewel suspended in a sea of ebony, as breathtakingly enchanting as the princess that would one-day be its ruler…
…
That evening a modest little party was held to welcome the Imperial Envoy. It felt odd to everyone involved, from Raible and the princess right down to the very last florist, to be throwing a welcome party for a man who had spent the past year in military campaigning against them. The irony of it all was almost too much to bare and, to some, felt more like some great cosmic joke than anything else.
The envoy, not failing to see the irony himself, spent the evening with an amused smirk seemingly permanently plastered over his thin blue lips. He did not mingle with those gathered, (not that anyone really wanted to speak to him in the first place) and spent the majority of the party simply watching those in attendance. That was, until his eye was captured by the ever lovely Princess Fala and he found his feet carrying her over to her little circle of women, all whispering to one another as women tended to do when gossiping.
"Rumor has it he was a slave himself." One woman was saying.
"No, no. He's a reckless buccaneer." Said another.
"I can't imagine the Pimpernel as a pirate." His beautiful Fala shook her golden head; waves of flaxen hair dancing around her delicately exposed shoulders.
"I hear he carried several whips!" Whispered a third woman.
"Good god! What in the world for!" Sincline interjected into the conversation.
The four women turned to face him in alarm, their cheeks practically blazing with their embarrassment. The Prince Imperial had to admit that the rosy cheeks looked rather appealing on the princess and he wondered what he could say to make her color like that in the future.
"We were just talking about a… uh… um…" Fala stammered.
"The Azure Pimpernel?" The Prince supplied, ginning in high spirits. "Do go on, I find it rather amusing the things people can come up with."
Silence fell over the group, no one daring to say another word about their mysterious phantom hero in the presence of a person whom they still considered to be an enemy. The women all exchanged surreptitious glances as if asking one another what to do.
Sincline smiled again, finding their suspicion of him (well founded though it was) and their hesitance to speak just as amusing as their earlier conversation. "Would it put your minds to rest, ladies, if I told you that you share no great secrets? For you see… I already know the identity of the Pimpernel."
"You lie!" All four women cried at once.
His smile broadened. His father might have sent him to learn the identity of the Azure Pimpernel, but that had not been by he had come. Sincline had agreed to his father's command and come to Altea as an Imperial envoy, not to fine a single lonely spy, but to banter with his beloved princess, and what hilarious banter this was!
"All the time." The prince admitted. "But not on this matter. I can assure you, the Pimpernel is not a man any one of you would readily like."
"No, my sister says his breath is sweeter than an Earther-rose." The woman that had proclaimed him to also carry several whips argued. "I'm sure I would fall in love if he would cross my path."
"Ah, but only if you could overlook the warts upon his nose." The prince teased. "And possibly persuade him to take a bath."
"I've head he's eight feet tall and yet quite graceful!" Cried the woman who proclaimed him to also be a pirate.
"Wrong. He wobbles when he walks and often twitched when he talks." Sincline's grin broadened at their grimaces of displeasure.
"Is he a dolt?" Fala asked.
The prince's attention was suddenly focused entirely on her and he wrapped one large muscular arm around her waist, pulling her closer to himself. He bent down because he was so much taller than her and whispered in his fair lady's ear, "Oh no, he's very deep."
He felt her shudder against him at the feeling of his warm breath against the curve of her ear. Such an intimate action was scandalous! And in front of an audience no less! The princess struggled out of his embrace, a second bright pink blush colored her dimpled cheeks.
"Don't… don't do that!" She gasped, suddenly breathless.
Sincline shrugged, not giving much of a mind for her lame reprimands. He was used to getting whatever he wanted and do whatever he wanted so long as it didn't displease his father. Consequences were still alien concepts to him that he was still getting used to. For the moment, however, he honored his princess' request not to crush her against his manly chest. He would be spending plenty of time on Altea (in the castle no less!), he would have more opportunities in the future.
"All this conjecturing could really drive a person insane." He said. "You should all give up on this Pimpernel and start looking at the real men around you. It's a dangerous game, ladies; falling in love with a phantom."
…
Some time later, Fala stood off in a far corner of the ballroom next to Raible. She found the old man's presence calming and found that Sincline also kept his distance from the old strategist. Of course, every time the Galran prince did approach, the old man began bombarding him with questions and ideas for the possible treaty (something which the prince had shown little interest in to spite it being the whole reason he was here), never the less, that probably had something to do with the wide birth he was giving Raible.
"Are you okay?" He asked when the princess sighed heavily.
"Huh?" She blinked at him.
"When he grabbed you." The strategist explained. "I think the boys were about to jump out of their skins when they saw that. That damnable excuse for a prince really has no sense of personal boundries."
"I'm fine." Fala shook her head. "If only that were the worst thing he's ever done to me."
Raible shifted his weight uncomfortably at her implication but said nothing, instead thinking it best to change the subject. "Ya know… the Azure Pimpernel actually used to be the crest of one of the noble houses in your father's court back before the siege."
"Really!" She princess might as well have pounced on him like Platt on cheese at those words. "So then the Pimpernel might very-well be a member of my own court! Once I become Queen, that is. Why did you never say this before? Who is it? What's the family name? You knew the Pimpernel's name all this time and you never told anyone!"
"Calm yourself, princess." The strategist heaved a heavy sigh. "That house is all but gone. The only surviving member is old and arthritic and completely in capable of doing any of the things I'm told the Pimpernel has done. I'm sure he's never even been off planet in his life, let alone since the revival of Golion. No, it's more likely just a coincidence."
"Oh." Fala was suddenly downcast. "Still, I'd like to visit this man. Raible, can you arrange it?"
"Live but to serve you, Your Highness."
…
(A/N: So, its seems the roles are becoming clear… Sincline appears to be the Chauvelin of the story. Fala will no doubt become the Marguerite. So then… does that mean that Kogane is Percy? Heh… heh… heh… I wonder…)
