The Royal Wedding was the event the entire planet had waiting for years. Everyone, it seemed, had come to the castle to celebrate. Crowds of people were gathered in front of the castle, enjoying the food and drinks that Allura had asked Nanny and her helpers to prepare.
Festivity and happiness worked their way into the heart of every man, woman, and child. The air was alive with the sound of joyous music and the thousands of flags fluttering in the wind.
The cheering rose to a full crescendo as the Prince and the Princess Royal of Arus approached the balcony. A grateful smile drifted across Allura's face when she saw all the flags — some held by people and others fluttering on wooden poles.
The flags were a powerful and moving display of the goodwill of her people. The Arussians believed that to guarantee the blessings of the gods, they had to write their wishes on a flag. The wind, acting as the messenger of the gods, would touch the flags and lift their wishes to the heavens, where the gods lived.
She bowed her head to hide her suddenly misty eyes as she realized something. Without Keith and the rest of the Voltron Force, she would not be standing here waving to her people. She would probably be dead or a slave of Zarkon, as would most of the people gathered on the castle grounds.
The cheers and noise around her began to fade and the volume of her heartbeat increased until it was the only thing she could hear. She blinked and when she opened her eyes, she found herself alone in darkness.
She scanned her surroundings worriedly, trying to figure out where she was, but the only thing she could see was a brilliant red light glowing in the distance. As she walked toward it, the light began to flash a menacing blood red and she heard malevolent laughter ring out through the darkness.
She suddenly felt a familiar touch on her waist. She gasped in alarm and her eyes flew open to find Keith's dark eyes peering at her quizzically.
"Are you alright?" Keith asked quietly. His worry increased as she began to tremble visibly. "Allura, what's wrong?"
She stared at him mutely with eyes filled with terror.
Keith stepped closer and held her trembling form gently. She melted into his embrace and struggled for control, taking courage from his protective presence.
The crowd roared in approval.
"I don't know." she answered when she could finally speak. "I guess I just daydreaming again."
He searched her eyes for a moment, noting the look of fear flashing in her eyes and the pallor of her skin. "What was the dream about?"
Allura shook her head and whispered, "I suddenly found myself in a different place. I was terrified... I don't know where I was but I could sense the... evil... surrounding me."
Keith's eyes narrowed with worry.
Allura smiled weakly up at him, gathered her courage and stepped out of his comforting embrace to face the people of Arus. It was the most difficult thing that she had ever done in her life.
Her thoughts whirled madly in her head. The premonition that she had crystallized her resolve to provide Arus with someone to lead them if something happened to her.
Keith loved Arus as much as she did and she knew without a doubt that save for Coran, there was no one else she would entrust Arus to. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She knew what she had to do.
Allura reached for Keith's arm and drew him forward to stand beside her and said in a voice that was filled with certainty, "My people, behold Keith Alexander Blackwell; Knight Defender of Arus; Commander of the Voltron Force; my husband and friend. Know that when he speaks, he speaks for me. I would that what you do for me, you do for him."
Coran stiffened in shock. Allura had spoken the Words of Investiture. Keith was not just Prince Consort anymore. If anything should happen to Allura, Keith would be the heir to the Lion Throne of Arus.
The Prime Minister's mind was spinning, but his visage did not give a hint of his inner turmoil. Coran had a duty to do and his princess was counting on him to perform it. He took a few steps forward and knelt before Keith.
"Your Highness, I am Coran, Duke of Wenselan. To you, I give this vow: my sword for your protection; my hand for your justice and my life in service of you."
He straightened and studied Allura's face intently, barely noticing as Lance came forward to pledge allegiance to Keith as well. Coran suddenly felt unease rise within him — he had seen that expression before.
It was the same one Juliana always wore when she had seen something – a premonition so strong that it was a certainty — and despite the warmth of the day and the happiness of the hour, Coran shivered, his entire being filled with dread.
Eight hours later, the party still showed no signs of dying down even though the toasts had all been drunk and the newlyweds had already left for their honeymoon.
Lance stifled a yawn. He tried to enjoy the lingering looks the ladies sent in his direction but it was useless — his heart wasn't in it – he was too tired.
Holding the heavy crown of state over Keith's head during the entire ceremony strained his muscles and he barely had the chance to rest during the formal luncheon that followed the ceremony because he had to arrange for security for the public appearance on the balcony of the castle.
As the first officer of the Voltron Force, he had to socialize — a duty he normally relished — but the noise and commotion soon began to grate on his nerves. He slipped away from the party and made his way to the Ready Room, hoping to find some peace and quiet.
He entered the Ready Room only to discover that he wasn't the only one to seek sanctuary there. The normally bright lights of the room were dimmed and the rest of the team – except Sven, who was probably still with Romelle – were already sprawled on the comfortable couches scattered around the room.
Lance passed around the appetizers he had begged from one of the kitchen maids, much to the delight of Hunk. The large space explorer had spent the evening trying to do the same, but the kitchen maids were already immune to his charms.
Pidge busied himself pouring glasses from the bottle of Alanor, the potent Arussian liquor that he had appropriated from the wine cellar — undoubtedly when Nanny's back was turned. Much to Pidge's dismay, after all, if he was old enough to fly a Lion then he was old enough to drink, Nanny refused to allow Pidge to drink alcoholic beverages and left standing orders with the kitchen maids — that Pidge was only to have a choice of milk, juice, iced tea or water.
Lance sat down on his favorite armchair and accepted the glass Pidge passed him. He swirled the glass in his hand, took an appreciative whiff and drank from it, feeling the artificial warmth of the liquor spread within him.
"That's some party back there. It seemed like everyone in the planet was invited." Jeff commented as he leaned back contentedly. After the silence of space, the noise of the planet-wide party was almost deafening.
Pidge laughed. "If you mean the girls, they show up whenever we have a gathering. His Highness has quite a following, you know. The ladies take every chance they can to drool over Keith." The youngest space explorer raised his voice to a high falsetto, "Oooh, I want to see Keith!"
Lance smirked playfully, "Yeah. It was sickening. All those girls were so blindly focused on the Captain that they didn't see the prime example of manhood before them — me!"
"We know, we know... you keep on reminding us, Lance." Hunk said idly, "But what are you doing here then? With Keith gone, I would have thought that your 'manliness' would have been in demand down there. Our feelings won't be hurt if you don't spend time with us, you know. With all the pretty distractions out there — I'm sure you could find something else to occupy your time."
"Keith took me aside before he left and made me promise to behave — no wild flings with the ladies while he was gone— can you believe that?!" Lance snorted in disgust. "I wanted to tell him where he could put his promise but I had just sworn allegiance to him. I mean —"
"SHUT UP, LANCE!" Three voices thundered out in unison.
Lance glared at his teammates — mainly to keep up appearances. He actually wanted some peace and quiet so that he could think — and having to entertain a lady, no matter how pretty she was, would definitely put a crimp in his plans.
He was happy for Keith and Allura. Even though they were forced into marriage, they were right for each other. When they were together, the air around them sparkled with life and vitality. He didn't know how else to explain it, but they seemed to complete each other.
He sighed wistfully. He couldn't help but feel a little envious. He tried hard, but he still hadn't found someone he could feel serious about in the way that Keith was serious about Allura and Sven for Romelle.
Lance sat in silence, occupied with his thoughts, barely noticing as the dark Arussian sky burst into life with showers of dancing light.
"Fireworks instead of explosions; celebrations instead of battles." Pidge mused philosophically, watching a particularly brilliant starburst light up the darkened land. "I hope it's always like this. We've seen enough war."
Lance chuckled cynically, "I doubt it, little Pidgelet. You know how the Doomies are, I wouldn't put it past them to try something to ruin the celebration. I have a gut feeling that they're planning something."
Hunk was studying the swirling lights intently. "You may be more right than you know, Lance. See that light over there? If I didn't know any better, I'd think..."
Jeff nodded; he had noticed the same thing as well. "Yeah. I don't think it's one of the fireworks. I may not have gotten an A in Physics like Sven and Keith, but even I know that fireworks have to burn up at some point as they fall."
"Damn. I hate it when I'm right," Lance said grimly, pushing aside his depression as he stood up. "Okay guys, it looks like we have some work to do. Let's go welcome our uninvited guests."