Author's Note: And so date night begins. How many bars and how many broken hearts? Only these characters know for sure, and until I wrote the scenes, even I didn't know what was going to happen. I mean, I thought I knew, but you know how these characters like to come in and surprise me. So nobody write me hate mail over the fact that I'm leaving cliffhangers! Address any mail to these characters, who are continually shocking me with what they do.
To Emie Mac - Sven is pretty stubborn, but I think that if he were to accept help/advice from anyone, it would be Chris, probably b/c she's not one of the "family," she's only marrying into it. Plus, she's a seer. Pretty cool to get advice from someone with those abilities.
To FroofyB - We missed you, too! Glad you have internet access again - as you can see, a lot's been happening here!
To bknbu - Allura, during her years when Voltron was impounded, did a few not-so-nice things. Some of those things were with Brent Halix. None of them involved getting a tattoo like Morgan. Though it's been mentioned before in SLY and "Icicle," the best place to find a description of Morgan's infamous tattoo is in "We Are Young."
To Sally On - Thank you for the compliment, my darling! This entire evening feels like it might be a train wreck: Allura/Keith/Brent, Lenora/Jon/Sven, Romelle/Sven/Erimar, Morgan/Jeff/Tattoo Emporium.
Title Song: "A Beautiful Lie" by 30 Seconds to Mars (no joke, the lyrics to this song sound like they were written for Sven)
Bandor and Emma exchanged glances as they sat on opposite ends of the informal dining room table. They were joined at dinner by Romelle and Erimar. Emma knew that her new husband was not happy about the prince overstaying his welcome.
She couldn't tell Bandor the real reason why Erimar was still there. As she watched the way the prince and Romelle coolly regarded each other across the table, it was hard to believe that they'd slept together. But she knew they had. What she had heard with her own ears could not be misinterpreted as anything else.
She couldn't stand the tension in the room. Romelle and Erimar were trying to ignore each other, Bandor was trying his best to tolerate Erimar, and she herself was trying to figure out how she could ever forgive her new sister-in-law for not only cheating on her husband, but worse, for also seeming to forget about Erik.
It was such an uncomfortable dinner.
Bandor swallowed a bite of steak, then set his knife and fork down on either side of his dinner plate. "So, Erimar," he casually dropped out, "is there nothing happening on Tyvel that you don't feel the need to return to your planet?"
Romelle almost died of embarrassment.
To his credit, Erimar seemed unaffected by the new king's comment. "Tyvel is a small, out-of-the-way planet, King Bandor," he replied carefully, placing his own fork down on the table. "I am lucky enough to have a council and a parliament to take control in my absence. Perhaps that is something you might think about, once your planet is back on its feet."
Emma swallowed. True, she didn't care very much for Erimar since he had knowingly - and all too willingly - bedded a married woman. At the same time, however, she didn't care for Bandor's frank treatment of him, even if he was now king; it was rude. If he got his behind handed to him on a gilded dinner platter, well, he had only brought it upon himself.
Bandor looked stunned. As well he would - Romelle, Sven, and Emma had never really challenged him before. He was surprised that Erimar would, though he shouldn't have been. "Those are interesting concepts, Erimar. I'll be sure to look into them."
The prince nodded. "Agreed. That's the wise thing to do, Your Highness."
Romelle uttered a sigh of relief.
Emma turned her face back to her plate. This was not what she wanted. This was not how she ever thought her marriage would begin. Suddenly, she missed Sven fiercely. He may not have been the most beloved member of the royal family, but he was the one who understood her best. She swallowed, wishing beyond hope that he would come back to Pollux - home - sooner rather than later.
Once Brent Halix had excused himself to bring them two house cocktails, Keith looked over at Allura. Her face betrayed no emotion; even her emerald eyes were still. As she noticed him staring at her, she sighed and leaned back into the banquette. "So...that was him."
"I gathered." He shot her a look. It wasn't an angry look, or a sad look, or even a jealous look. It was a look of acceptance. A look of knowing. "So, tell me, the way I feel now, that's more or less how you've been feeling lately?"
"A mix of everything, but mostly confusion? Mmm-hmm," she replied. She then shook her head. "I'm sorry, Keith. I shouldn't have done this to you. And I really shouldn't have done this to Brent."
He scooted over next to her in the banquette, placing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him. "It's okay, Allura. I can handle it. Besides, I probably had it coming." He offered her an amused smile. "So, what do they have to drink in this place?"
"The house drink is the Blue Lion cocktail. But Brent makes it special for me. He calls it the Blue Lion Pilot. It has Arusian tequila instead of rum."
"Wow. I never would have taken you for a tequila girl."
"Lance's fault."
Keith stifled a laugh. "Why does that not surprise me? Remind me to have a talk with him when we get back to the castle."
She smiled. She still looked a little upset and a little guilty, but she would get over it. It made her feel better that Keith was okay with her stupid plan. It didn't make her feel better about hurting Brent. She never should have done that.
Then again, there were a lot of things she shouldn't have done with Brent. And a lot of things he shouldn't have done with her.
When Brent returned to their private booth, he held a blue drink in each hand. "The house cocktail," he informed Keith as he set the drink down in front of him. "One Blue Lion." Then he set the other drink down in front of Allura. "And one Blue Lion Pilot. For the Blue Lion pilot."
"You remembered," she gushed. "Thank you."
"Of course."
Allura took her first sip as Mr. Halix watched. "It's better than ever, Brent," she told him. "It's delicious."
"Mine's pretty good, too," Keith chimed in.
Allura enjoyed her Blue Lion Pilot, allowing herself to taste it properly. Then she placed her drink back down on the table, then looked up at their host with twinkling emerald eyes. "Brent," she cooed, "how's Natanya?"
He looked shocked that she'd asked. "Oh," he replied quickly, "she's doing well, thank you."
The princess gazed up at the bartender lovingly, squeezing Keith's hand underneath the table. "I'm so glad to hear that. I take it that you two have finally gotten back together, and things are going well for both of you."
Brent nodded. "Yes. They are, actually. Finally. They are."
She gave a quick nod of her head. "Wonderful. I'm so glad to hear that."
Brent inhaled. "Well, I will let the two of you have some alone time," he conceded. "Please don't hesitate to call me if you need another drink. Don't forget, the Voltron Force drinks free as far as I'm concerned."
"Thank you, Brent."
As Mr. Halix closed the drapes behind him to allow them some privacy, Keith turned towards his girlfriend. "So what was that all about?" he asked. "And how does he make a girlie drink so fruity and delicious?" He paused suspiciously. "Don't tell Lance that I said that."
She laughed freely. "I won't. And let's just say that Brent knows how to mix a darned good drink." She took a sip, not caring about how the blue coloring stained her lips.
"So, who's Natanya?"
Keith's question was the one question she'd been dreading, and she took another long sip of her cocktail. "Keith, when I told you earlier that Coran and Nanny wouldn't let me be with Brent, that wasn't exactly the truth. I mean, it was, but not for the reasons you'd ordinarily think."
"Really? Because the reason that came to my mind was that he wasn't a prince." He grinned, taking a sip of his drink. "That he was a hooligan like us, as Nanny would say."
"I'm sure that was a reason, but not the reason." Allura looked down at the table, not daring to meet Keith's eyes as she told him the truth. "The real reason is..."
"Is what?"
"During our entire relationship, Brent was married."
Sven swallowed in anticipation as Lenora sat down in the rounded half-booth, keeping a safe distance away from him. She inhaled, unsure of the situation, her eyes darting over to the half-bottle of Clicquot in the ice bucket, then down to the two shots of vodka on the table. She looked as though she wanted to knock back all of it by herself.
"You look stunning, Lenora."
She looked as though she was too nervous to have heard him.
"Are you even going to say hello to me, Elskede?"
She inhaled quickly, turning her head the slightest amount possible. "Hei."
He smiled. "I forgot to tell you how well you still speak Norwegian. I'm glad you didn't lose that ability in my absence."
"I'm good with languages." She picked up a menu from off the table. "I speak French, too."
"Really?" He lifted an eyebrow. "When did you learn to speak French?"
"During the two years I was hiding out in Paris."
He nodded. He knew a little about her years in hiding from his conversations with Aidan. "Yes, I know. Aidan told me. Well, that amongst other things."
"You sat down and had a decent conversation with Aidan Dalloway? I'm impressed." She picked the menu up from off the table. "Did anyone get hurt in the process?"
He grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Why do you think anyone would have gotten hurt?"
"Because when it came down to you versus Aidan back at the Academy, somebody always got hurt." She skimmed the dinner menu before placing it back down on the table. "Are you hungry? We could always go somewhere else for dinner."
Sven paused, hurt, before he answered. "Why would you want to go anywhere else for dinner when we're already here?"
She sighed. She knew going in that this would be a difficult encounter, and she knew that her former fiancé was going to be disappointed in her decision to stay with her husband. "I know why you picked the Tea Room, Sven. You did it because it was my mother's favorite restaurant, and also where we told her that we'd gotten engaged."
"I miss your mother," he offered simply. "She was like my own mother. Aidan told me about her, too. I am so sorry, Lenora. I am sorrier than words could ever express." He picked up his shotglass of Ciroc. "For your mother. Skål."
She was touched that he'd toasted her mother. Knowing Sven as well as she once had, she knew that he wasn't doing it as a ploy to try to win her back. He was genuinely sorry about her passing. So she lifted her own shotglass in solidarity. "Cheers. Santé."
The vodka went down smoothly, and their knuckles brushed together as they placed their glasses down on the table. Lenora pulled away quickly, fearing not only that she'd lead him on, but worse, that she'd also like the feel of his hand against hers. That would cause nothing but problems.
"Lenora," he started wearily, "we need to talk about what happened on Arus."
Before she could reply, the waitress appeared in front of them. "If you're ready, I'll open this bottle," she told them, producing an unnecessary corkscrew. Looking over at Lenora briefly, Sven gave a quick nod, and she uncorked the champagne. Deftly pouring the Clicquot into two champagne flutes, she handed a glass to each of them. It reminded Lenora of the night she first met Jon on the Explorer. "Looks like a special occasion," she winked. "Is this your first date?"
"We're married," Sven answered quickly.
"Ooh, an anniversary, then," the waitress answered quickly. "That's so nice. Congratulations!"
Lenora blinked in disbelief as the ditzy, presumptive waitress took their dinner order. She ordered the black bass with a Tea Room salad to start; he decided on the chicken Kiev and foie gras appetizer. When the waitress finally disappeared into the kitchen, she smacked his upper arm. "Sven Holgersson, what in seven hells was that about?"
"What?" he retorted maddeningly. "We are married. Just not to each other."
"I hope you keep that information in the back of your mind as dinner continues."
"Elskede, that information is always on my mind, front and center." He sighed, picking up his champagne flute and lifting it to his lips. "I never forget about the fact that you're married to a man other than me. It's killing me on every level."
"What would your wife say if she heard you say that? Princess Romelle, correct?"
She watched as Sven froze in thought. Finally, putting his flute back down on the table, he asked slowly, "Why do you care so much about Romelle? If you'd ever met her, you'd know that it's obvious she doesn't care about me."
"Then why did you marry her?"
"Because I thought you were dead, Lenora." He buried his face in his hands as he remembered his desperate attempts to find her after they'd achieved victory over Doom. "Romelle and I were both enslaved on Doom together, and we worked so hard from the inside to free the captives, to take Zarkon and Lotor down." He shuddered as he remembered his time as a slave on that miserable planet, not once, but twice. "When it was all over, I came back to the Garrison to find you. And...you were gone." He looked deeply hurt as he told her the next statement. "Someone told me you were dead. Someone else told me you were in the Void. Yet someone else told me that you were the most wanted woman on Wade's hit list. And far too many people told me to stop looking for you. It was for my own good."
"Gods." Despite every fiber in her being telling her to stop, Lenora reached over and grabbed Sven's hand, squeezing it. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry, my love." She paused, and she could see the hurt in his eyes as if it was brand-new. She had always loved his slate-blue eyes. "That would have been right around the time that Jon sent me into hiding."
"Your husband." He muttered the word darkly as though he hated the man. "You know, the sad thing is, I like him. I actually like him. If it weren't for the fact that he's your husband, we'd get along famously."
The waitress reappeared with the salad and the foie gras, and once she'd left the table, they began to eat. Lenora could barely taste her food; she had no appetite, sitting next to Sven. She knew she would never leave Jon, but she couldn't ignore her feelings for the man who was once her entire world. She loved him, after all. He was The One, at least according to Christiane, and whenever she was around him, she did stupid things.
She would not do stupid things this time. This time, she was married, and she knew that he was a married father. There was too much at stake to risk a night in bed for.
"How's the foie gras?"
He smiled. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a judge. After spending so much time on Crydor, everything tastes delicious."
"Hmm. I suppose it would." She wished she could taste her salad. She wished that she wasn't so anxious or nervous. And she really, really wished that Jon had chosen to accompany her to dinner.
"So. Arus." He placed his fork down on the table and pushed his half-empty plate away. "That was the best night of my life, Elskede. Being with you again after so many years...I earned that night. I deserved that night."
"I know." She pushed her barely-touched salad away, wishing she hadn't ordered so much food. It would only go to waste at the rate she was going.
"Lenora, I don't think you even know the extent of what I went through." He urgently clasped her hand, scooting closer to her in the booth. "When that witch Haggar's cat bit me, and then her robeast struck me..." He let his voice trail off, closing his eyes at the memory and pain. "You were the only thing that kept me going during my recovery. I swear to it."
"I know. You were in bad shape, I know." She didn't want to cry. Lenora prided herself on holding in her tears, on keeping a dry eye under even the worst circumstances. But now, next to Sven, she didn't know if she stood a chance. "I was with Graham when we found out about your injuries. I almost died with you."
"Oh, Elskede, no."
"I went to Ebb, you know." She looked away and up at the ceiling, focusing on its gilded carvings. "Morgan and I, we both went. I spent ten days laying in bed next to you. You were in such bad shape, you were surrounded by those stabilization cages to hold your spine together..."
Sven looked shocked. "You were there? You were on Ebb?" A look of horror filled his eyes. "You saw me like that?"
"Yes," she admitted, broken. "The worst ten days of my life. I wanted to die right there next to you." She swallowed. "I wanted the ground to open up and suck us both in. I didn't know if you would ever wake up, and I didn't know how I could go on if you didn't." She picked up her champagne flute and took a large gulp. Champagne really was a celebratory-events drink; now, in a time of sorrow, the Clicquot almost tasted foul.
There was a profound silence between them. Finally, he spoke up again. "That wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when Doom invaded Ebb and took the inhabitants as slaves. You know what they call Ebb now, right?"
"The planet of lost healers." Lenora closed her eyes. "I know all too well, Sven."
For a moment, eternity shifted. Their lives shifted. He was no longer Romelle's husband and Erik's father; she was no longer Jon's wife and the Space Marshal of the Galaxy Alliance. They were simply Sven and Len, young and in love, waiting for their lives to begin together. Waiting to be reunited after a long absence.
That part scared her the most.