Disclaimer: I of course do not own Voltron in any of its myriad forms. I can only wish.
Prologue
War brings desolation, a fact that Alfor De Rimaldi, King of Arus, had become acutely aware of the first time the bombs had dropped on a city along the western coast. War is costly, he knew that it meant not in the coin of the realm but in the lives and the futures of his people.
He had accepted all these things, even knew that war might bring about his own death. But as he took his last breaths within a stone throw from the palace his family had ruled from for a thousand years, he did not realize that it also meant he would look back on his life and regret… Regret not having breakfast with Allura, regret not telling Coran how he loved him like a brother, regret decisions he had made wondering if another choice would have ended the war.
This morning he had woken up, blessing the gods that he and his young daughter were still alive. It was enough - had been enough for the past few years - to keep him going even after Lorien, his beloved queen, had died. He thought then of Lorien's last moment. How he had held her in his arms as she had died. Her blue-green eyes had met his, with all the love and fear she felt inside of her, and then she had closed them for the last time. He could feel the memory of her hand on his face now, as he made his way to join her.
"Your Highness, you fight a good fight," The voice whispered. Kindly, Alfor noted. The voice was ironically kind.
The message had come this morning that the General of Zarkon's armies, Amin Thanos, wanted to end the war. A challenge was laid down and Alfor had accepted. There was a belief that Amin was a man of some honor; though his King had none, Alfor was convinced.
There had been honor in the fight, Alfor thought as he looked up from his kneeling position, his breath slow, almost visible in the air. There was silence around the castle of lions. Almost silence, he amended, because he could still hear the rumblings of the lions that had filled his head since he had become liege, a constant companion that only the Kings and Queens of Arusian royal blood were privy to. The lions had roared earlier – anger and vengeance in their voice – as Amin's sword had found the space between two of Alfor's ribs. They had roared with pain as Alfor's eyes had widened in shock. The pain had been quick, consuming him almost entirely; and Alfor had dropped his sword and fell to his knees.
That had been less than a minute ago, Alfor realized. He looked up to see Amin Thanos standing above him. Amin buried his long blade in the dirt and knelt on one knee in front of the enemy king. Enemy? Enemy? He fights with honor, something lost on Zarkon for the past five hundred years.
"My liege will end this war, your highness, if you give him the soul of this world," Again the kind voice. Alfor regarded Thanos then. His skin was tinged only the lightest blue, and his white hair had been braided down his back. He had a few marks on him, but nothing much – within moments of their swords first clash, both combatants had known who the better swordsman was. At least he had died at the hands of a master, Alfor thought.
"The what?" Even close to death, Alfor laughed, tasting blood this time. "What does he speak of?"
"The soul of Arus, your highness. He wants the soul of this world to make ours whole."
From the corner of his eyes, Alfor saw Coran rushing towards him. With what little strength he had left, Alfor turned to Coran, raised his hands to keep him away for this moment and shook his head. "There is no use, Coran," he said softly, not knowing if his friend could hear him.
Then to Thanos, "Arus' soul is not free to leave, Amin. And if it were, I would rather this planet died than hand it to your master! After Arus, what then? Another world, another annihilation, until he has destroyed all that is beautiful in the universe? Zarkon and Hagar fight death, Amin... How did your king obtain the allegiance of someone such as yourself who courts death?"
Amin Thanos, put his hand on the king's shoulders, "Blood asks strange things of us, your highness… do you swear, King Alfor, that the world is not free?"
Alfor nodded, "Will you believe me, General?"
"You are a man of honor," Amin replied, feeling the king's death a few minutes away.
"To my knowledge and the knowledge of everyone I know only two worlds are free in the manner you suggest - one is the seat of a foreign empire the other a world that has no ruler."
Amin nodded. To say either name aloud would bring ill luck, it was said. But the names they were known by came to his head, the Homeworld of the Vandath Empire, and Saladani the world of love.
Amin stood and looked the man who had come to stand as his King's second, "You are Coran, lord protectorate of Arus?"
Coran nodded, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill.
"Your king is in need of you, Coran." Amin started to walk away, but turned then putting his hand out to Alfor, "Your highness, these years you have fought my armies have proven that you are a man willing to die for all you hold dear. I will not have you die on your knees when you have fought so long and brave on your feet."
Alfor gripped the offered hand tightly, bending one knee as leverage. Coran was there then, at his back, aiding him. "My brother in arms, Coran. You have also been my brother in heart." The two men paused for a few seconds, head to head before Alfor lifted his with much effort. He looked one last time, at Amin as the Doom general released him, "Zarkon is not worthy of you, Amin Thanos."
"He was not worthy of my mother, Your highness…. Lord Protectorate, take what you can of the Royal Household and hide in the hills… I will not follow, but Zarkon intends to end this war tomorrow with the destruction of the Castle of Lions." Amin turned then and walked quickly away.
He paused only once again, a few minutes later when the screaming of the little girl began.
"Unhand me, I command you as your Princess!" She said using her father's inflection. Allura D'Alfor, only child to Alfor and Lorien, crown princess of Arus, was free of the hold the castle guard had on her... or perhaps he saw Alfor making his way to the bridge that spanned the sacred lake to lead to the castle entrance... perhaps he knew that she needed to be with their king during his last breath. Allura would never ask, though at the moment all those possibilities crossed her mind. Alfor stepped off the bridge, and she quickened her pace from the balcony down the steps, and outside the door.
That Alfor was still alive surprised him, but he was no fool. The wound was mortal, and walking as he did to the castle only hastened his end. But as a man could choose how to live, Alfor would chose how he was to die.
He faltered the same moment Allura reached him. "Father, Father! Father!" her tears spilled onto his own eyes as she hugged him to her, his head falling into his daughter's lap. Allura was old enough to know that there was nothing they could do. At fourteen she had seen far too much of death. It was another regret he had-perhaps he should have sent her to Orla when he had the chance. He shook his head... Regrets are part of the mortal realm, someone - something - whispered in his head.
Allura lifted her head, "The lions, Father! I hear the lions."
Alfor smiled. The rule was passing to his daughter as he desired. Then a trick of light caught the necklace she wore. The dedean cube that had been left with him more than twelve years ago was glowing as he had seen it only do once before. Except now the two halves were revealed as one side burned bright red, and the other a cold white.
It is time, Alfor. The heart of Voltron must be kept safe, and if our enemies sense that what little of what is free on Arus is still here, they will surely kill Allura. You must send the heart away.
Now that I am at death's door, spirit, you dare command me? Alfor asked, sending the thought inside of himself, outwards, everywhere since he did not know whether the spirit was in him or he was heading towards it.
Now that you are at death's door, our son -it was his mother and father's voices- your work can begin.
A voice that spoke with the roar of the lions filled his head then, The heart must be protected, Alfor. Send us away. We will return when most needed.
With one hand on Coran's forearm, Alfor smiled at his dearest friend, "I wish that I did not have to ask more of you, lord protectorate... but take her away. Coran, take her away and love and protect her as you always have - as if she were your own." Coran could only nod. His voice had been lost when the sword had found Alfor.
Alfor turned to his daughter then, the reason perhaps why he was still alive-but even that desire to watch her become the woman she was destined to be was no match against death. Alfor reached for the two halves of the cube, putting his lips to Allura's hand, and turned the two sides opposite of each other. He heard a slight click and then the roar of the lions louder than he had ever heard them. Coran's eyes widened and Alfor smiled as he realized the roar was no longer just in their heads.
Amin turned quickly, the roar of the lions was everywhere - as if the five had somehow become millions. He looked up and saw stars falling - in the daylight- and realized them for what they were. They were ships the armada above him. Zarkon's fleet was falling into the atmosphere.
Alfor blinked once, staring into blue eyes so like his own. The heat of the dedean cube almost burned, but he drew strength from it. Allura leaned forward, the grief inside of her almost killing her. "Father, I love you." She bent her head to his chest, listening as the heartbeat stopped.
"Allura," was all Alfor could manage as he died in his daughter's arms. When he opened his hands, Coran breathed deep to see that they were empty. The dedean cube had left Arus to go where it would.
As Allura screamed, calling for her father, Coran, fell to his knees and let his own tears finally fall.
Days away from Arus at the other end of the Denubian Galaxy, Zarkon the Terrible threw the glass still full of wine at the unfortunate soldier who had brought him the news, "The fleets are what?"
He had been cut, but he was still alive. He answered, "D-destroyed majesty. All of the five fleets are destroyed completely. No one survived. The sixth fleet will take four days to reach Arus-"
"And Thanos' army?"
"S-stranded on Arus."
"And what of the general?"
"He has gathered his men close to the castle and is waiting your instruction."
"How many men?"
"Less than two hundred."
"I will call him myself." He dismissed the soldier.
"Damn Alfor! Damn Arus! Damn the gods!" He stormed, rising from his throne and picking up the wine bottle that had been left for him. He threw it against the steps leading to his seat. It was not enough destruction he realized, looking around for something else to throw. Or else he would call the harem, perhaps they would cool his hatred for a moment.
Quietly, Hagar entered, "Sire, Arus is quiet again."
"Are you telling me the planet killed itself to destroy my fleets?"
She shook her head. Ah, if that were the only power of a planet, why go after it, she wanted to ask. She decided not to tell him that what had destroyed his famed fleet was only a fraction of the power Arus had. "No, Sire. The planet sleeps once again. I hear nothing from it. But it lives or Arus would be a shell, nothing would grow."
"Like Doom, old witch! Like my world?"
She again chose her words carefully, "No. The power is dormant once again, Sire, as it was before Akadena the goddess-born empress attempted to wake it." He knew the name was a dangerous one to say. But Zarkon was already in a dangerous mood.
"Damn Akadena to the hells! What now, Old Witch? It will take years to rebuild my fleets - and as you constantly remind me, our world has twenty at best before it is done, and we are done."
Hagar consulted her orb, the answer came, but it was not one she liked. Robeasts. They had been the death of her own planet nearly five thousand years ago, the energy needed to build one required much of a planet's power…. but Hagar saw other worlds in the orb. Worlds without knowledge, pristine worlds with little power. I shall build robeast from them. "We shall prevail, Sire. But it will take time… let them believe that you have left them alone, for now."
"And what of Amin and his men?"
"Send Lotor to fetch them, Sire. Reunite the brothers for a moment." Refuel the hatred, Hagar thought to herself and smiled.
A thousand light years separated the Vandathian Homeworld from the Denubian Galaxy. The Emperor Tamarco A'Vandath lifted his head as his younger sister, the Empress Delayne A'Vandath stood.
"Layne?" He asked. They were in the throne room, ready to close the public forum, and it was night in the royal palace of R'Evala.
She furrowed her brows and turned her head where the heat emanating from the back of her smaller throne had startled her. There, set in the back's apex, was the famed dedean cube their ancestor Akadena had first set a thousand years prior and that Marco had given to Alfor of Arus, almost thirteen years ago. It glowed a perfect white. A tear dropped down her left eye as she realized what it was, "Marco, Alfor is dead."
The Emperor rose and turned to the general posted at the side door, "De Lentis, bring me word of Arus and the little princess who now rules it."