Once again, my most humble thanks to Wade Wells for a most excellent Beta!
Many thanks you all of you who have left review and kept me encouraged and motivated. I blame you entirely for the fact a new story popped in my head and will have to write it!
Warning: You will find strong swear words within this chapter.
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Keith shifted his arm a bit, as it started feeling numb. Cady had fallen asleep while reading to him and, selfishly, he wanted to cuddle with his little girl. He started dozing himself when a throat clearing next to him had his eyes opening. "Good day, Coran. What brings you here?"
Coran smiled at the sound of Keith's voice. It sounded stronger every day. The doctor had even started making noises about letting the captain return to his rooms. In the three weeks since he had woken from the coma, Keith had made great strides in his recovery. Just two days prior, the captain had reached the first goal weight of 155 pounds, which meant Gorma would remove the TPN. He still looked too thin, but improved daily. Coran never wanted to see another person in the captain's condition six weeks prior.
The doctor believed in another day or two the captain would not need round the clock nursing care. Dr. Gorma had attached a big 'however' attached to that statement: Keith would have no clearance for active duty and would spend his days in the various physical therapies required to rebuild his body. It would take many months for him to regain all he had lost. Nanny's cooking would go a long way toward recovery, as would leaving the hospital.
Throwing off those thoughts, Coran smiled at Keith. "A delegation from the ruling council has come requesting an audience with you. Would you be willing to see them?"
Keith nodded, "Of course Coran, would you ask them to wait in the nearest conference room and advise them I will join the as quickly as possible?"
Nodding, the advisor walked to the doorway and paused, "You look much better and sound good."
"Thank Dr. Gorma for taking such good care of me." Keith returned mildly.
Coran paused, as if searching for the right words, unusual for him. "Gorma credits your unwillingness to accept defeat in any form for your recovery. The rest of the medical staff concurs." He paused again, "What you have done for Arus will pass from generation to generation inspiring its people for all time. Truly I say to you, no words exist which will ever fully encompass the whole of what you have done." He turned and gave Keith a full bow, one of acknowledgment and in accordance with tradition when acknowledging a leader. Coran rose, and turned before Keith could give any response.
Bemused, he pushed the button to summon a nurse. His arm was throbbing and he could feel the muscles starting to twitch. Meegan came just as a grimace passed over his face. "Here now Captain, you should have called me before," she said softly as she carefully lifted the sleeping child and transferred her to the cot nearby.
He shrugged and gasped as his arm seized violently. Quickly, Meegan grabbed his wrist with her left hand. With her right she grabbed an injection and between seizures injected the relaxant directly into the trouble causing muscle. Within a minute, Keith's arm had quieted and he could unclench his teeth. "Thank you, Meegan."He reached over with his right hand to rub at his left.
"Of course, Captain. You need to be a little more careful. It will take some time for those muscles to recover completely. As long as I am here, give me your left hand."
Keith stopped massaging his arm, and presented his hand for her inspection. She tested his involuntary reflexes and nodded. "Better and better. Now make a fist." Keith complied, although his hand did not quite close together. "Ah, much better. You are well on the way, Captain." She could not help but think how much he had improved in just the last two weeks ago. At the last meeting of the Captain's nurses, Peder and Bekka had told the story of his first real shower.
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"Captain. Captain, are you awake?"
The gentle voice pulled him from a deep sleep toward the surface. He tried to respond, but only a croak emerged from his throat.
"I have a drink for you Captain, if you can just open your eyes for me?"
Keith did not really want to wake. He had been enjoying the restful dark, but he could not stay there for long. Slowly he opened his eyes and quickly closed them. "S' bright."
"Just a moment, I will dim them." There was a short pause, "There captain, try again," the voice urged.
Opening his eyes again, he blinked to focus in the dimmed room. His tongue felt large and clumsy, his head very muzzy.
A shape leaned over the bed and a young pretty face came in view. She looked vaguely familiar, but Keith could not quite place her.
"Ahh, there you are Captain. I am going to slowly put the bed in a sitting position, just let the bed do the work." The bed and its slightly confused patient came to a seated position. The woman held out a glass with a straw toward the captain, "Take a few sips, Captain, this will help clear your mouth and your head."
He reached with his hand, surprised to see it shaking. The young woman let him take the glass, but kept her hand on the bottom to steady it. He took a long drink, letting it roll in his mouth and down his parched throat. Suddenly, his arm started to spasm, and the nurse kept hold of the glass to keep it from falling. She quickly set the glass aside, and took his arm between her hands. Keith clenched his teeth together to keep from crying out as she gently worked the muscle to stop the spasm. "Easy, Captain, just try to relax, I know that it is hard. Just breath, the spasm will pass. Breath Captain."
The pain had cleared his head and he recognized the woman as one of the nurses who rotated in and out of his room. Three different nurses rotated through his room after he had awoken a week past. They alternately bullied and cajoled him. As the spasm passed, Keith unclenched his jaw, and worked it slightly to remove the kinks. It felt sore from all the clenching he had done since waking. He sighed and leaned back against the pillows. The nurse again picked up the drink and handed it to him. Hand still shaking, he managed to finish the drink with the woman's help and then let his arm fall slack as she put the empty glass aside.
"All right then, Captain, I am sure you want a shower. I will help you to the shower area, then Peder will help you as you need. So first thing first, let me take out the IV line for now." Chatting pleasantly, she removed the line and looped it around the stand to reinsert when they returned.
Keith allowed the talk to filter above his head. The drink had cleared out his mouth, and he felt more alert. Meegan. That was the woman's name. Finally! His thoughts started coming together. Meegan lowered the bed to a lever where Keith could place his feet on the floor and stand. Thoughtfully, she had provided a pair of slippers with traction. Carefully, the man swung his legs over the side of the bed. Meegan stood beside him, but let him stand on his own. He wobbled slightly, but caught his balance with his right hand on the bed. Straightening slowly, he nodded at Meegan. His broken foot had knitted nicely during the coma, and only throbbed slightly. On the other hand, he felt like a wet noodle, and at each step his legs wobbled.
Concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other, he heard but did not listen to Meegan's encouragement. She did not offer to help him, but walked slowly, her shoulder available as needed. The short walk down the hallway tired him more than he wanted to admit or like. Holding the door opened, she said something else, but Keith did not pay any attention. His head buzzed as though he were drunk, and his legs threatened to give out on him. Just as they did so, a strong arm caught his arm, and threw it over broad shoulders, keeping him upright.
"Easy there Captain, I cannot have you ruining my reputation by falling over before you have had a chance to enjoy your shower." Keith looked up at bright green eyes, which smiled easily. "No need to talk, my wife will tell you I do enough for three people." He skillfully helped Keith over to a seat on a bench. "Now sit there for just a minute, and I will start the shower. A little bird told me you like it on the scalding end, but we can work up to that."
Keith just leaned his head back against the cool tile and closed his eyes. He had never in his life felt so weak. If he had any energy left he would scream in frustration. His mind wandered at odd moments, and he had the tendency to drop off to sleep in the middle of a sentence. Gorma assured him it was his body's way of healing, but it had been a effing week! In four years, he had never, after a week, still needed a babysitter to do the most simple of tasks.
Just as he started a good ranting in his mind, Peder returned. Ok, Captain, if you would just follow me?" He offered neither hand nor arm to help, for which the captain felt extremely grateful. Placing a hand on either side of the bench, he pushed himself up to a standing position. He carefully pulled at the loose ties on the dreaded hospital gown, and carefully handed it to Peder with a shaking hand. Damn! Would the shaking never cease? Gorma had told him how much damage his body had taken, but he would like to do one effing task without his body betraying him.
Peder walked beside the captain, seeing the disgust in his eyes as he handed the gown with a shaking hand to him. He kept up a stream of small talk, nothing of import. He could only imagine how the captain felt about the temporary dependence he had on people for the simplest of tasks. It must be rather frustrating to have someone wait while you attended to basic bodily functions. Peder told Keith he would be back, he just had to grab some extra towels, and if he needed help just to call.
The young nurse left before Keith could say a word. The captain knew Peder was trying to spare his dignity, but after this last week, he did not know that he had any left. He attended to business; at least it was better than that damn catheter and then carefully walked toward the shower. It was only a half dozen steps, but it seemed like ten miles. As he lowered himself to the bench in the shower stream, he leaned back against the heated tile and sighed. Nothing compared to a steaming hot shower. After a minute he opened his eyes, the young nurse was folding towels, and giving Keith at least the illusion of privacy. He smiled, a real smile, at the courtesy.
"Peder?"
"Yes Captain?"
"Could I trouble you to turn the heat up just a bit? I could use a little more warmth." The controls were just beyond his reach on the bench, and he just did not feel like standing at the moment. "Of course captain. If you can lean forward just a bit, I can also turn on the jets behind you."
Keith simply nodded, then sighed as the blast of hot water hit him at the knots in his neck. He sat there for some minutes, just enjoying the quiet.
Thirty minutes later, Keith felt nearly human again. It was amazing the difference a good shower, a shave, and real clothes could make. Granted they were yoga pants and a loose shirt, but he would take anything other than that effing gown. Peder helped him back to his room. Keith's intentions of doing anything other than resting disappeared somewhere along the short walk back. He climbed back into his bed and fell asleep before Peder had reattached his TPN.
For his part, Peder carefully reattached the monitors to the captain. Other than an occasional muscle twitch, he did not stir. He had made amazing inroads on his recovery, and his strong will certainly helped. The nurse quietly finished his chores, and dimmed the lights behind him.
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Mentally giving herself a little kick, Meegan turned her attention back to her patient. "You have made great strides in the last few weeks."
He smiled, albeit a little bitterly. "Coran said the ruling council wanted to see me?"
Meegan nodded. "Cady will be fine right here. We will poke our heads in on her while you see the council. Do you need anything before you go?"
Keith shook his head, "Perhaps something to drink?"
"Dorella will have already brought something in to the room for you. Mind you, it does you no good in the glass, Captain, DRINK IT!"
"Yes ma'am," he replied with a salute. Rising and taking the three steps to the cot, he gave his sleeping daughter a quiet kiss on her head and slowly walked to the conference room. When he entered, every counselor stood by their chairs and talk quieted to a minimum. Keith's eyebrow went up in surprise; this was new. He made his way to a chair obviously left for him, and sat. Inwardly grimacing, he saw the glass of green goop as he had begun calling it. He had found he could not eat large quantities of food and the nutritionist had concocted this drink. Although it did not taste bad, neither did it taste good, and the texture, blech, like curdled milk or creamy cement. Still, he agreed to drink it. At least Dorella had left juice to chase away the taste. Suddenly, he realized the counselors still stood. He gestured toward the seats, "Please do not stand on formality, ladies and gentlemen." While the five men and women sat, he swallowed some of the goop, followed with a swig of juice.
Tisha, a long time counselor spoke, "I have been asked to speak on behalf of this counsel, Commander. We have brought a proclamation, ratified by the people for your consideration. I wish you to know it received a 97% approval rating, the highest ever recorded. If I may?"
Keith nodded, his curiosity aroused, "Yes, please."
Tisha stood and unrolled a paper scroll. She noticed Keith's quirk of amusement, "Tradition, Commander." She cleared her throat and began reading,
"We the people of Arus, in accordance with tradition, and having voted on the matter do declare thusly:
"In so far as Keith Kogane, called Lieutenant Colonel by his own people, named, Pilot of Black Lion, sworn as defender of Arus, named Commander of the defenders of the planet, has given of himself to save our people, our way of life, and our planet do so name him Hero.
"To this end, his name will we inscribe within our hearts and within the Hall of Heroes to become the 163rd name inscribed therein. His name will now end the recitation of Heroes and his tales of valor and glory will add to the lore of Heroes.
"We petition said Hero, Keith Kogane, on the following matter:
"We, the people of Arus, in accordance with ancient tradition handed down from one lore master to the next, having kept the Heroes litany from the first to the last,
"We ask you to remain on Arus and to take to wife one Allura Joyeux of House Arella, heir to the throne and named Princess Elect. Her hand is ours to bestow on a declared Hero.
"Thus we set the petition before you, as sealed by the people."
Tisha rolled the scroll and lay it before Keith on the table. As if on an unheard signal, all five counselors rose and bowed before Keith. Without another word, they filed out of the room, leaving behind the scroll, and one very stunned and confused man.
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"The ruling council requests your presence, your highness."
Looking up, Allura focused on Ialla standing in the doorway, a broad smile on her face. "The ruling council, why?"
"They did not say, highness, only that your presence is needed." True, although Ialla did know what they would tell the princess. It took all of her control not to dance and sing and blurt the news to the her boss. Somehow, she had managed to keep Princess Allura from learning about the Lore Master's vote. It had taken some very creative juggling of correspondence sent to the princess, but tradition dictated she have no say in the matter. When the voting had commenced, the castle personnel had quickly placed theirs. Like many other regions of Arus and towns, not one person had cast a negative vote. For years, the staff had watched the princess and their beloved Captain. No one could count the number of times the Captain had saved someone while risking his own life and limb. Once Dr. Gorma swore he needed to install a revolving door at the hospital just for Captain Kogane and his multitude of visits. He treated the staff with respect and made no demands on any one of them.
The staff had watched the princess blossom under his tutelage. In the beginning, no one doubted the princess felt only puppy love for the commander of Voltron. He and his team had swooped down during Arus' darkest hours and brought hope back to the people. No one could blame the princess for her starry-eyed affection. When Ialla first came, the princess still carried a crush for the Captain. Then it changed.
As time passed, the puppy love transformed into something deeper and lasting. Ialla could not pinpoint the time, but the princess had fallen deeply in love with her Captain. In return, the Captain had given the princess the family she desperately craved. The first time Cady had come to the princess to conspire with her to force her father into taking a break, Ialla thought her heart would break. The little girl looked to the princess as a mother figure. It had become the castle story of the week. The tragic, doomed love of the princess for her knight. Gossip had the two wedded within months of the arrival of the force. Months and then years passed. The princess refused to look elsewhere for her mate, and it seemed the Captain did not feel worthy.
With the Lore Masters' declaration, the tragedy would turn into triumph as love conquered all. The princess and her captain would bond and all of Arus would prosper.
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Allura shook her head, trying to think of what the royal council could possibly want. With a sigh she rose and looked at the casual pant suit she wore. Ialla noticed the look, "Magda waits for you in your chambers with a more appropriate attire."
"Thank you Ialla. I shall return as soon as possible." She stepped through the doorway and soon arrived at her rooms. Magda had already laid out a dress. With practiced efficiency, Allura quickly stripped off her clothes and stepped into the waiting dress Magda held. Raising the hem, she stepped into the slippers then sat in front of her dresser where Nanny quickly dressed her hair, pulling a portion to the back, tied into a quick knot and the remainder left to fall freely. Using a hot iron, Magda curled the ends of Allura's hair into large ringlets, then combed them out to give her hair a wavy appearance. Through the procedure, the two spoke casually. Magda gave her an update on repairs to the ballroom, and some staffing issues. Allura asked several questions about other repairs and offered the latest information on the search for Lotor. In less than fifteen minutes, the princess exited the room and headed toward the formal conference room.
As she entered, quiet conversations ceased, and the council rose. Allura took her seat at the head of the table and nodded for the council to sit; only Counselor Tisha remained standing.
"You may proceed."
Tisha offered a small bow, "Thank you, your highness." She stood tall and smiled at the princess. "Gallead, the first inscribed Hero took to wife Marian thus beginning the tradition of the Lore Masters. Today, we come to inform you a vote has declared a new Hero. In accordance with tradition and the dictates of the Lore Masters, who keep the list of the Heroes from the first to the last, they have granted your hand to the Hero.
"The Lore Masters have declared Kogane, called Lieutenant Colonel by his own people, named, Pilot of Black Lion, sworn as defender of Arus, named Commander of the defenders of the planet, as the 163rd Hero of Arus. We have just now come from informing him.
"Therefore, we, as representatives of the Lore Masters, do hereby command you to present yourself to him 24 hours from now to hear his decision. We further command you to present yourself in your wedding attire. Should he have reached no decision, you will withdraw for a further three days before presenting yourself a second time. If the Hero has no decision, we shall consider it a refusal.
"You will no go and prepare yourself for the Hero's decision."
Allura felt grateful she did not fall out of the chair at the Counselors declaration. For a full minute after Tisha finished speaking, she could do nothing but wonder if she dreamed again. Keith, a Hero and more than that, granted her hand. Pushing aside all other thought, Allura stood and bowed to the council, hoping her voice would remain steady.
"I, Allura Joyeux of House Arella, heir to the throne and named Princess Elect hear the commands of you, the representative of the Lore Masters and submit myself to your authority. As bidden, I shall prepare myself for the Hero and present myself to him in 24 hours time. Should no answer be forthcoming, I shall retire for three additional days before presenting myself to him a second time. Should no answer be forthcoming or the Hero replies in the negative, I will bind myself to one of the Lore Masters' choosing." Allura bowed to the council, all of whom wore large grins and turned to leave. As she exited the room, Allura felt as though she could fly without her beloved lion. Unable to contain herself, she laughed aloud and spun in circles until dizzy, she crashed into a wall. Goddess and God Above, thank you.
When she entered her room, both Magda and Coran waited her. Between them, on a dressmaker's dummy, hung her wedding dress.
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Dr. Gorma burst into his room, like a storm cloud, thought Keith. His head had started to feel a little muzzy from the dose of muscle relaxants and pain killers given to him.
The doctor did not say a word, but simply picked up the captain's wrist to check his pulse, and then used a pen light to test his eyes. Even though medical technology had come far in the ability to detect changes in patients with a simple machine, many doctors still felt the need to use their own senses to check. Mikko, especially, had found that sometimes his instincts told him something the machines did not. "Well?" he asked his recalcitrant patient.
"I needed t' think," he replied.
"You NEED to do EXACTLY what I say you can and cannot do, young man. I have not spent six weeks fattening you up and patching you to see you waste my efforts.!"
"'M sorry," came the slurred answer as the medicines side effects and the over exertion started catching up with Keith. His eyes closed even as he gave a one sided smile to Gorma, "Pr'bly happen again."
Sighing, Mikko watched as his patient drifted into sleep. Then he chuckled slightly. His worst patient had it only partially correct, it would not probably happen again, it WOULD happen again. The captain just did not know how to follow medical orders or how to relax. His physical therapists had to hold him back to prevent him from causing more damage by forcing muscles to work at a higher level than they could. On the other hand, Mikko could understand his frustration. Captain Kogane spent years training his body to perform at a very high level and had become accustomed to pushing himself harder and further than anyone else. Now, simple therapies left him gasping for breath and exhausted. One of the physical therapists, Gretta, had learned the hard way--the captain did not complain. In one of their first sessions, he pushed himself into convulsions by trying to do more than his body was capable. Gretta took it upon herself to warn the other therapists, and they kept a close eye on the captain to protect him from himself.
With one last check on the captain to ensure the medications had stopped all the spasms, he walked to his office. He should have had someone check on the captain sooner, but felt the young man needed time alone to absorb what the counselors offered. Dr. Gorma had voted in favor of the proclamation and the offer without hesitation. It was his little way of playing matchmaker.
After forty-five minutes without word from the captain, he had sent in one of the nurses to see if he needed anything. She found Kogane on the floor, making small pain noises, his back and left arm in spasms. The nurse had quickly called for Gorma, who arrived in less than a minute. Within two more minutes, they had administered a very powerful muscle relaxant combined with a pain killer. As the spasms eased, the doctor asked his patient why he had not called for help.
The captain had looked at him, and answered between waves, "Couldn't. Too intense."
"What were you doing that brought this on?"
"I," the captain started, "I needed to clear my mind. Needed to think." He paused to let another, weaker spasm pass. "Thought a little bit of yoga would help," he smiled ruefully, "I guess I just lost track of time."
Shaking his head, the doctor stood and let the nurses load the captain onto a gurney. The lack of protest showed Gorma how much the episode had taken out of Kogane. The doctor waited until the nurses would have a chance to settle the captain into his room, before striding angrily down the hall.
Now the captain slept again. Mikko walked to his office and sat down in his chair. He felt too old for this. Unfortunately, the lack of trained personnel dictated he stay in his current position indefinitely. He had petitioned several other planets and Galaxy Garrison for more doctors, nurses, and medical aides, but shortages ran high. A few trickled in here and there, but not enough to meet the demands of Arus. Two years ago, the first crop of would-be-doctors went to medical schools on Earth, Ebb, and Calanda. It would take three more years before the first would return, trained to Arus. Until then, they would have to hobble along and make do.
Angrily, Mikko shook his head. He was feeling sorry for himself again, and that just would not do. He was not the only one who made sacrifices. Lack of trained people permeated though every discipline. Arus would survive, grow, and prosper. It would take time, but it WOULD happen.
With that thought, he rose to make his rounds and then head home early to his wife. An evening with her always restored his perspective and energized him. Blessed the day indeed, he met his Lara.
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Keith finally woke from the sedative Gorma had administered. Groping for the controls for the bed, he winced as his arm throbbed in protest. Slowly, the bed moved to an upright position. When the wave of dizziness passed, the captain pressed the button to summon a nurse. Over the last few weeks of recovery, he had learned to call for help after a sedative dose unless he wanted to find himself on the floor. Within a few moments one of the night nurses, Bekka entered the room.
"1.30am, 12 hours, yes, no, all ready."
Keith gave a weak chuckle in response. It had become a joke between the staff and himself regarding the first five questions he always asked; the time, how long he had slept, had Cady stopped by, had anyone captured Lotor, could he please have a shower. Carefully, Keith swung his legs over the side of the bed. Bekka came over with a bottle of concentrated sugars and vitamins. With a shaking hand, Keith carefully lifted the bottle and took a sip, swishing the faintly minty liquid around his mouth to wet it, then swallowed half the contents.
The first three times Gorma had sedated Keith after a body spasm, he had ordered a high calorie shake or bar to try and quickly replace calories lost due to the seizure and the sedation. Each time, the captain had vomited soon after eating. Switching sedatives made no difference but experiments proved he could handle a solution of fructose, glucose, and vitamins.
Handing the bottle back to Bekka, Keith carefully stood, testing his legs to ensure they would not collapse under him. A wave of grey with black dots flooded his vision. Breathing slowly, the man waited until they cleared again.
"Ok?" asked Bekka, having been through this routine with her patient a half a dozen times.
Nodding, Keith turned to walk to the door, concentrating on putting each foot in front of the other. Five steps to the door, then a right turn. Take the bar along the wall. Twenty slow, deliberate steps between rooms. Three rooms to the showers.
Bekka walked beside him, letting the captain set the pace. His chart indicated the spasm today lasted longer than normal and had spread to his back as well as his left arm. She saw clear indications in the way he walked; slower and more deliberate than normal. His hand did not leave the bar and unlike the last time they had made this trip, the captain did not attempt to make small talk or inquire about Bekka's family.
When they arrived at the showers, her patient let out an audible sigh and slowly sat in the chair just inside the entrance to the showers, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. She opened the bottle again and put it on the table next to the chair on his right hand side. "Captain, I am going to grab another bottle for you." She tried to put a smile into her voice. The poor man looked like he had taken several steps backwards in the healing process today.
Without opening his eyes, the commander nodded.
"Bottle is on your right. When you can finish." Another nod answered her. Setting down the towels and clean garments, she walked out of the room.
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Keith listed to Bekka's footsteps retreating down the hallway. He felt like warmed over shit. He appreciated Bekka giving him some time to recover a bit. Deliberately he pushed back the thought which had started to rise to the surface. He just wanted a bit longer to recover before letting his mind engage. Opening his eyes slightly, he turned his head enough to spot the bottle next to him. Carefully, he reached his still shaking, but not as much, hand to grab it and carefully drink the remainder. He really, really, loathed and detested those damnable sedatives. They knocked him out, messed with his stomach, and generally left him feeling hung over or doped.
Taking a deep breath, he looked down at his left arm and hand. It still felt half-asleep most of the time but Gorma thought the sensation would fade as the muscle came back and the shoulder healed. The good doctor did not think a second surgery would help. Earlier they had discussed some alternate treatments which may help repair the nerves. Keith knew he would do anything to regain the use of his hand and arm. He could not fly if he could not react.
Shaking his head, Keith stopped that line of thought. Not now. He would not think of that now. Smiling ruefully, he momentarily felt glad to have left the room. No sense broadcasting his distress where someone could hear.
Rousing himself, he tried to take off his loose top only to stop as a stabbing pain shot through his shoulder. Once again, he could not raise his left arm above chest level. "Fuck! Blessed stupid damned useless arm!" Grabbing the empty bottle with his mostly good right arm, he flung it across the room where it hit a bench and bounced onto the floor. With a shuddering breath, he propped his elbow on the side of the chair and covered his eyes with his right hand, taking deep breaths.
Three weeks. Three fucking weeks of therapy, pain, and spasm after spasm. And that is only what HE remembered. According to his chart, they had started working with his arm shortly after the death of the parasite. After five weeks of therapy, one damned incident had set him back two weeks of therapy. He still slept at least twelve damn hours every damned day. He looked like a walking advertisement for anorexia, and could not finish the simplest yoga routine without sending his traitorous body into convulsions. And on top of everything else. . .No he could NOT think about that right now. Right now he was going to drink another gaggingly sweet invalid's fucking drink and have to ask for help to take off the damned shirt. Hell, he did not even have any privacy in the shower. Every two or three minutes an overly-concerned nurse or orderly poked their every-so solicitous head in to make sure he did not keel over on them and die. After all, the planet had declared him a damn hero. Hero's marry the beautiful princess, ride off into the perfect sunset and everything turns up roses.
Of course no one ever considered the damned hero just wants to stop hurting every damned minute, would like his hands to stop shaking like an old spavined war horse or considers the princess. . .
"Captain?"
The hesitant voice interrupts his thoughts. Slowly raising his hand, he focused on the lady in front of him.
"Drink this."
A bottle appeared in front of his eyes. He took the bottle and quickly downed the contents. Closing his eyes and laying his head against the wall the held out the empty container.
He has to get out. He cannot stay in this hospital. He needs to just, just GO. Taking a breath, a plan started to form. He opened his eyes to find Bekka folding towels, waiting for him. Of all the nurses, she obviously hovers the least, for which he is grateful.
"Bekka?"
"Yes, captain?"
"My arm has stuck again."
"Ahhh," she smiles, "Well, easily remedied." Tossing the towel down, she walks over to help her hero.
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The insistent beeping woke him from a deep sleep. Fumbling for the communicator, he pressed the button. "This had better be life or death." Muttered the sleep-fogged voice.
"I need your help."
"On my way."
Years of attacks and discipline washed the sleep out of the man and within a minute he had dressed and strode out of the room. His friend needed him, sleep could come later.
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Keith sat in a chair next to the lone table in his room, dressed in loose fitting yoga pants, a thick sweater, woolen socks and hard soled leather slippers lined with wool. His head lay back, with a data pad held lightly in his right arm, eyes focused on the ceiling above him, a listening expression on his face. He roused and looked at the man who came into the room.
"You look like shit."
A half-smiled crossed the sitting man's face. "An improvement, I am sure."
"Over week in the grave dead? Would 'Hell Yes' be appropriate here?"
"Mmmm." A pause settled over the pair, each studying the other. "You could use a shave."
The other man laughed, "A shave, shower, forty days of sleep, and a hot date to name a few other things." The smile faded, "What do you need?"
"I need out of here and I need to see Black. And I do not need a host of babysitters following me and asking every 2 seconds how I am doing? Do I need anything?" Keith blew out a breath and ran a mostly steady hand through his hair. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. "Can you do it?"
Silence greeted Keith's words and after a minute opened his eyes to see his friend studying him and tapping fingers against his hastily donned clothing, rumpled from laying on the floor. He looked at the clock on the wall and did some hasty calculations in his head. "Give me ten minutes." He took one stride to the wall and stopped, "Black is still in the repair bay. Systems still giving us fits. Can you walk that far?"
"No." Came the quiet answer from behind him.
Knowing what it cost for Keith to admit that caused the man to realize just how much his Captain had truly lost. Kogane always had an aura of energy about him regardless of how tired or injured he appeared. In their four years on Arus, Keith always walked out of the hospital under his own power in his own time; not always fast or steady. For him to admit he could not walk to Black. . . "I need an extra couple minutes. Be back." Without any further words, he hurried out of the room.
Picking up the data pad, Keith scrawled out a note for the hospital staff and placed it on the bed where they would find it. No sense in starting a panic when their erstwhile Hero appeared to have disappeared. Hero. The thoughts he blocked early exploded into his brain. Pressing his right hand to his head he closed his eyes and let the thoughts overwhelm him without apply any rhyme or reason. Too many thoughts and too much to ponder. Too many responsibilities. The pilot sat in the chair until he heard a throat clearing. Looking up he smiled. Rather than a wheelchair, his friend had brought a scooter. Darrell and Hunk had designed them in their spare time half a lifetime ago. Since Arus had few roads, wheeled conveyances did not fare well. People followed the animal paths or rode horses. Some few had starting purchasing floater cars, but most could not afford the cost. The dynamic duo had put their heads together and made a scooter which floated slightly above the ground. It did not go fast, but it could go nearly anywhere!
"Thought this would work better than a wheelchair. More maneuverable, too!"
Nodding his head, Keith carefully stood, bearing his weight on his right arm. Bekka had placed a brace around his left shoulder and arm to take some of the weight and give Keith limited use of it. The more he could force the arm to do, the better it would recover. He looped a small bag around his shoulder to lay at the small of his back and stepped on the scooter.
"Lead on, McDuff!"
Nodding, the second man pressed a small button on a box in his hand. "This will loop the cameras for about 5 minutes in here and as we approach the security cameras, we will have about 1 minute before they reset. We need to move fairly quickly. Let's go."
Without further discussion, the two headed down the hallway.
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Ten minutes later, the pair approached the repair area. Round the clock work had ceased as people tried to return to a normal routine. At 3am, a quiet deserted cavernous room greeted them. The black lion dominated the other vehicles surrounding him. Even with the scaffolding and wires surrounding him, the scratches and dents not yet repaired, the Black somehow looked majestic. Smiling, Keith rode the scooter over to the right front leg. "Hello my friend."
He looked back at the man behind him, "Would you. . .?"
The other man did not let Keith finish his sentence, "Be back in a few hours. Try to let me have a little sleep, hey?" With that, the man turned and strode out of the repair area.
With a deep sigh, Keith watched him leave.
Several minutes later the elevator to the cockpit descended. Carefully, the captain maneuvered the scooter over to the elevator. Leaving the scooter next to it, he stepped onto the elevator, holding on to one of the supports. "Ready"
At his word, the elevator slowly and gently rose to the access door. The captain stepped into and then looked around the cockpit. Hunk had obviously worked hard to repair Black. Wires and boards lay neatly near where they belonged. Scratches and dents still marred every surface, but the chair looked perfect. No tears nor holes. Keith wandered over to the place he felt most at home and ran his fingers over the chair. The scratches and scuffs which had marked four years of fighting no longer existed. "Hmm?" He said aloud. "Oh, I know not enough of the chair remained to repair, but I cannot help feeling I have lost something else."
An onlooker would find the apparently one sided conversation rather odd, but Keith did not notice anymore.
"Yes, I know you will remember, but we earned each and every scuff and scratch."
"It does look more comfortable. How about I give it a try?" The Black pilot sighed as he sank into the chair. The trip to Black had taken more out of him than he thought. Left over from the sedation, he supposed. He felt the ache in his abused body, but pushed the sensation aside. "Yes, I am tired, but I have questions which you will answer more fully than either Magda or Coran. You know about the proclamation?"
Keith paused and rubbed his head. "Truthfully? My head hurts quite a bit; can we do this aloud for now?"
A low rumble filled the cabin and an artificial voice emerged from the speakers. "Of course, my person."
Sighing, the pilot laid his head back and closed his eyes. "Fill me in?" He asked.
"The tradition goes back to the founding of Arus. The early rulers realized that birth did not dictate the ability to rule, but ability did. In the beginning, much like Earth history, many smaller countries existed, each with their own kinglet or queenlet. As humans would, they warred amongst themselves. One small group of people watched the conflict around them and then decided to step aside to act as guardians and caretakers of the history of Arus. With them they took some powerful warriors and witches. Within a generation, the rest of the planet came to respect their neutrality. In return, they kept the history and acted as intermediaries between peoples and countries. Over the course of several generations, a tradition started of recognizing a Hero; someone who performed an extraordinary deed, who gave of himself unto death or to near death. In the beginning, only the Guardians could declare a Hero. As time passed, the Guardians gave the people a say in declaring a Hero. In the time since, only twice have the people declined to name a Hero the Guardians put forth.
The Guardians realized these Heroes who gave of themselves would found a new dynasty which would one day unite Arus under one house. From the first, they would offer the Heroes one of the sons or daughters of a ruling house as a spouse. The Hero would have one full day to consider the offer from sunup to sundown. In that time, the proposed spouse would have no contact with the Hero to assure no outside influence would affect the Hero's decision. Over time, the time given to the Hero to contemplate became a time of meditation and solitude with guards standing watch to prevent anyone other than a healer or Guardian from approaching the Hero."
Keith sat quietly contemplating what Black had revealed. "Does the proposed spouse have a choice in the matter?"
"No. The Guardians suggest a candidate and the people have a right to decline. The electing of a Hero has two parts. The vote to confirm the Hero and the vote to accept or decline the spouse. The Guardians, however, choose carefully whom they offer. If a declared Hero already has a spouse and family, obviously no other spouse is proposed."
"If I decline?"
"Once a spouse is proposed, that person is considered a ward of the Guardians. He or she will no longer have a say in whom they marry."
A longer pause followed Black's pronouncement. "So should I choose to decline the offer of Allura's hand, what will happen to her?"
The lion did not immediately answer, but Keith let the silence relax him.
"The Guardians will pick an alternate spouse for her at an appropriate time."
"If I accept?"
"The binding ceremony will occur three days after acceptance."
"And Cady?"
"Will be accepted as a princess, though not royal by birth. She cannot rule because she carries no Arusian blood."
Several minutes passed in a comfortable silence.
"Pilot, she wants nothing more than for you to marry Allura. She often talks of the family she wants. The family is you to marry Allura and give her brothers and sisters. Her vision of a perfect life is all her family married, living in the castle and giving her many cousins, sisters, and brothers."
"I know," came the quiet reply.
Again, silence fell over the cabin. Nearly 20 minutes passed before Keith stirred and opened his eyes. "The illusion of choice without the substance of choice." He looked at the panel above him as the answer spoke in his mind. A humorless smile crossed his face, "A declared Hero acts for the people first, true?" Touching the controls on the right arm rest, Keith lowered the chair into a reclining position. Closing his eyes, he let his body grow heavy and felt the chair conform to him. "Comfy."
With a low rumble in the background sounding and feeling like a purr, the young man let his mind drift into sleep.
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