Author's note: Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read and review this story. It's my first, and I appreciate all of your constructive comments. I hope they can help me become a better writer so I can better explore the Voltron Universe I've loved since I was a child.
Playlist: A wonderful live collaboration between Calexico and Iron and Wine, recorded in London. Obviously I'm on a big Calexico kick. I keep including my musical selections because music sustains a kind of mood as I write. It's an important part of my composition process.
As always, the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Voltron, etc. etc.
Chapter Three:
No Safe, Green Place on Arus
Captain Alexander Der' Elison watched from the shadows as the five bedraggled Galaxy Garrison "soldiers" knelt and kissed his Princess's hand. If he were to judge them solely by their outer appearance, then Galaxy Garrison might as well have saved the fuel it cost them to get here. To call them bedraggled would have been a kindness; they lacked a cohesive uniform, some of them dressed in what he suspected would have passed for street clothes on their native Earth. Only two of them, in fact, appeared to be wearing any kind of uniform, and even their clothing was torn and stained in places. They all could have used a bath and a shave, except for the smallest of them. Captain Der' Elison squinted at him, slightly shocked, as he realized the smallest one didn't need a shave because he probably wasn't old enough to need one yet. How old was he? Twelve? His keen eyes swept over the rest of the group, trying to discern as much information as he could from his position behind one of the large pillars of the main hall of the ruined castle. His spirits sagged a bit. Even the oldest couldn't be much out of his teens. Although they didn't look threatening, he kept his weapon at the ready, gripped tightly with the sights on and the safety off, pointed directly at the man who had identified himself as the leader. He glanced around him, knowing the rest of the Royal Guard was doing the same, from their positions in the shadows behind the pillars. They would take no chances with their Princess's safety.
As the one who had identified himself as the commander of the group reached out his hand to the Princess's, the Captain of the Royal Guard took a sharp intake of breath. From behind the closest pillar, his second in command, Lieutenant Micah Aliesse, looked at him sharply, alarm written clearly on his face. The Captain shook his head, signing to him in the battle signals of the Royal Guard, no danger yet apparent. The soldier relaxed a bit but did not lower his weapon. Alexander signed again, but, Micah, look at his arm.
The kneeling commander's sleeve, obviously shredded and bloodstained, had been rolled half way up his forearm. Alexander approved, because it meant the gruesome fabric would not touch the Princess, and hopefully not frighten her. He wondered if it had been deliberate, if the man kneeling in front of her had done it to shield the princess from this tiny evidence of atrocity. The princess could not see the bottom of the man's forearm from the way he had grasped her hand, but Alexander could, and he suppressed a shudder even as his estimation of the man in front of him rose sharply, even frightening him a bit. The kneeling commander, who looked dazed and star-struck as he gazed up into Princess Allura's face, bore the angry, festering slave brand of Planet Doom on his arm. The wound was raw and red, and definitely infected, but Alexander could make out the Drule letters through the scope on his rifle. Micah followed suit, and stiffened.
They all knew what the brand meant. They had heard of it, but had never seen it in person, burned into anyone's flesh before. It meant the man had been marked as a slave on Planet Doom itself, and no one, no one ever, had been branded as one of Zarkon's slaves and escaped to tell about it. The Captain of the Royal Guard signed rapidly at Micah, and each soldier signed rapidly back at him from their positions in the shadows, spread across the ruins of the Great Hall. The rest of the Guard, each with a rifle trained on one of the young men, all had the same report. Every single member of the bedraggled group in front of them either bore the slave brand openly, or had a bloodstained patch of sleeve where the brand would have been. Alexander shook his head, angry with himself for underestimating the five young men, but also suddenly grateful for their presence. No one escaped the dungeons of Doom. No one.
Many of them had lost relatives to Zarkon's slave pits, victims of the constant raids on their small planet. He thought of his own young wife, barely twenty-two when they had taken her. If these five could escape, then maybe…. But he flattened the thought as soon as it surfaced. He could not afford hope right now; it was more expensive even than grief. Later, in his chambers, he would let his emotions surface, but not now. He had the Princess of Arus to protect, and he would do it with his very life, if needed, as all the Royal Guard would, even though he had failed to protect his own wife. He blinked fiercely. He would not fail again. My life for your service, he vowed, as he watched the Princess urge the commander to rise. Her golden hair looked like a halo around her, and he thought, again, of how she was the very heart and soul of what was left of Arus. She was why he fought.
The entire group of five looked almost hypnotized as they gazed at the Princess, and he knew she had touched them all in some way. Perhaps these men would turn out to be what they had been hoping for, and could help turn his men from grim soldiers who had been merely hanging on into some kind of actual resistance force against Zarkon. He offered a silent prayer to Aerion, god of war, that it was so. And so it was with mixed emotions that he watched as the commander rose from kneeling at the princess's feet, took one step backward, and passed out.
Everyone in the room watched in amazement as Keith came crashing to the ground.
"That must have been some kiss," Pidge muttered darkly.
Lance merely shook his head, surprised his Commander had made it this far. He had refused any rest during the flight from Doom, but had insisted the others take breaks in shifts. He had been at the forefront of the expedition through the desert, and of all of them, had drunk the most sparingly from the small amount of water they'd had to share. He had done of all of this without even a hint of complaint. The man was made of steel, Lance concluded, and if he could collapse, then so could he.
"I think that's the best idea the Commander's had all day," Lance declared, and promptly plopped down on the gray flagstone of the castle's floor. "I, for one, think a nap is an excellent idea, but I would like to lodge a formal complaint with the commander about his choice of venue when he wakes up." Despite his light banter, Lance was afraid he was close to total muscle failure, and knew the rest of the team had to be in just as bad shape as himself. And Keith… Lance smiled, thinking of the opportunities this would give him to dig at the commander in the future. The most beautiful woman any of them had seen in… well, maybe ever, and their fearless commander had to go and literally fall over at her feet. Smooth, Keith, real smooth.
Princess Allura stared in shock at the man at her feet. Why didn't I see it before? These men have been through hell and back. She remembered the commander's touch, the feel of his lips on her hand, and the shock she felt when she felt his mind open to hers, even if only briefly. She had not been prepared. Mind-to-mind contact was rare enough among her own people; she had never expected it to happen with a total stranger from another planet. She realized, now, the effort it must have cost him as he tried to project feelings of safety and… home? She had felt an assurance that he would protect her, and an image of a safe, green Arus, where she could finally leave the caves and the ruins of the castle and be safe under clear skies….
She had not felt such a powerful bond since her father had died. This man was promising her his protection and guardianship, and she, remembering the safety of her father's arms and the Arus that had been, had accepted, all of it happening in an instant, their promise passing between them quickly and silently, a private bond that she understood, but one that left the soldier from Earth bewildered and drained. She wondered if he even understood what had passed between them so swiftly. But she did. She would remember, and so would he, eventually.
"Stand down, Captain Der' Elison," she said. "These men are allies and pose no threat to us." She turned to Koran, every inch the princess she had been trained to be since birth. "We are not so far gone that we must keep worthy men wanting when they have come to help us." Koran raised an eyebrow at her, still uncertain. He opened his mind to me, Koran. The diplomat's eyes widened in shock. I don't think he meant to, and I have no idea how he was able, but he is a good man, as are his teammates. It clearly drained him. If you will see to the others, I will tend to him. As she communicated with Koran, the Royal Guard materialized silently from the shadows around them, armed to the teeth and moving as one.
Lance felt a bit annoyed as he realized there had been armed guards ringing them the entire time. He was sick of being treated like a criminal, until he realized, belatedly, that he technically was one. Well, only a minor one. He sighed.
Koran cleared his throat. "Gentleman, if you'll forgive our necessary caution, you may follow me, and I'll show the way to slightly better accommodations. We can provide you with food, clothing, bathing facilities, and medical care…." Koran said, leading the group towards the back of the main hall, where the entrance to the caves began.
Lance turned back towards the princess and his prone commander. "But what about Commander Kogane?" he asked, concerned.
Allura smiled at him gently. "I'll take care of him. He'll join you as soon as he is able, I promise."
Lance looked as if he wanted to argue, but seemed to think better of it, following his teammates as they disappeared into the darkness. Five minutes to total muscle failure, he reminded himself. He would be no good to anyone then. Besides, I can't have the most beautiful woman I've ever seen thinking all of us Earth men will just faint at the sight of her. He tried to add a cool little swagger to his walk, telling his screaming muscles to shut the hell up.
Allura knelt down beside the man at her feet, her dress pooling around her as she did so, mindless of the dirt and grime she was getting all over it. She hated pink anyway, and had deliberately chosen the color because Nanny threw a fit when she tried to appear before the strangers in a tunic and leggings. If Nanny was going to treat her like a child, then she would dress like one. Nanny had better hope I don't have to make a sudden run for it, she thought darkly, picturing herself tumbling down the stairs, twisted up in her skirts, as she tried to run from a group of mercenaries. With her brightly colored, voluminous skirts wrapping her up, all she would have to do would be to put a bow on her forehead and deliver herself as a present to Zarkon. But then, full skirts would give me a chance to hide a blaster…. She had waited until Nanny was occupied in her bathroom, hunting for something to tie up her hair, before she had slipped over to her bedside table and slid out the black leather holster she had adapted to strap onto her thigh. She reached under her pillow for her favorite blaster and slid it quickly into the holster. She was back at her dressing table looking like a prim and proper princess before Nanny was back. She had smiled at her reflection. The feeling of the blaster against her thigh helped her to relax a little.
She leaned in to look more closely at the commander's face, and smiled at what she saw. He had a kind face, but she could see the steel beneath it, too. She brushed black hair off his forehead, letting her fingers linger there, hoping her touch could restore some of the energy he had lost during their brief mind-to-mind contact. "Keith," she murmured. "Keith, can you hear me?" She frowned when he didn't respond. She placed her hand flat against his forehead, tempted to probe his psyche, but she was afraid he had already pushed himself too far. She sighed and stroked his face. "Keith. You're safe," she said. "You made it. You're on Arus." Still no response.
Sitting cross-legged, she wiggled in even closer to his side, delighted to be getting the hated pink dress even dirtier. She'll make me wear it again, Allura thought darkly. Nanny can clean anything.
"Princess?" Captain Der' Elison said hesitantly. Allura fought down irritation. She knew better than to think he would leave her completely unguarded. But he had served her parents before her, and had saved her life many times before now. She would not fault him for his devotion. "Perhaps Dr. Gorma?" he suggested.
Allura shook her head. "No need, Captain. Just give him a bit more time."
Alexander Der' Elison stepped back, not wanting to contradict the princess. It was not his place, and she was frequently right about matters of healing.
Allura gathered Keith's hand in hers, intending to pull him into her lap, when she saw the Drule writing branded into his arm. She hissed. She would have Dr. Gorma treat it later. The wound was already an angry, seeping red against his skin. Tears again threatened when she thought of what Zarkon had done, to her people, her planet, and now this man lying prone before her. He had been in the dungeons of Doom….
And then she was weeping freely, silent tears running over her cheeks. "Keith," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. "Please, wake up." She put her hands on each side of his face and called to him with her mind. Keith. Wake up. We need you. Your team needs you. I think…I think I need you. She concentrated on reaching his mind, sending him the image he had shown her, of a green Arus, with safe, clear skies….
"How did you know my name?"
She opened her eyes and found herself staring into a pair of dark brown ones, full of confusion and concern. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Reaching him had taken effort. "What?" she asked, confused in turn. Of all the questions he could have asked her…
"My name. You knew it. But I introduced myself only as Commander Kogane. How did you know?" He looked into her deep blue eyes, and saw the tears gathered there. He cursed to himself. Someone had been making her cry. Probably him. Damn. He vowed, then, that he would make her smile soon. He would find a way.
She answered him tremulously. "You told me."
"I did?" He became aware that part of him was sprawled across her lap, and the other part of him was flat on the cold hard floor. Very unprofessional, he scolded himself. She was cradling his injured arm in her lap, and the wound had opened again, seeping blood onto her skirt. He tried to pull his arm away from her, but she clung to it. "But I'm bleeding on you, Princess," he protested. "I'll ruin your dress."
Her response surprised him. "Good," she said, wickedness and merriment flashing across her face. Whoa, girl. That response could be interpreted a number of ways….
"Where is everyone?" he asked, looking for his teammates. "Are they ok?"
Captain Der' Elison stepped forward once again, grasping Keith firmly by his free hand. He gave the princess a disapproving look before pulling Keith up off the ground. "If you'll follow me, Commander, I'll take you to the rest of them. They're below ground, where what's left of the population has gone for safety. You can see them, and we'll have Dr. Gorma look at your arm." Keith, caught in his iron grip, could only follow him. "Princess," the Captain of the Royal Guard called. "You had best come with us, you know."
Keith looked back over his shoulder to see a very dirty Princess grinning impishly at him. "Of course, Captain," she said archly. "My royal personage will have to change out of this ruined dress immediately," she sighed, with heavily feigned regret. She followed the two men, almost skipping. They've come. They're really here. Oh, Lyssa, Warrior Maiden, I don't know if you're out there or not, but thanks be to you for this chance. And I won't forget my promise. I'll fight alongside them. And you'll help me, I know you will. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so light-hearted. She looked down at her grimy, bloodstained dress, and thought of Nanny, and grinned. Even Nanny couldn't do anything with bloodstains.
Keith, still watching her, wished he could hear what she was thinking. He leaned in closer to the captain of the Royal Guard, speaking low enough that he hoped she couldn't hear him. "I really am sorry I bled all over her dress," he said, trying to apologize, puzzled by the princess's behavior.
Alexander smiled but did not release his grip on Keith. "Don't worry about it," he whispered back. "She really, really hates pink dresses."
