I do not own Voltron or anything even remotely associated with it. Heaven knows if I did, I would still have the toys

Arusian Royalty

In the distance, the familiar sight of the gray metallic towers of the castle came into view and ever so gradually, a sense of relaxation began to creep over Keith. For the first time since the transport had landed, he felt as if he were coming home. For five years Arus had been a sort of home for him and the others but he hadn't thought that he would feel this way. Until now, things had been different enough to keep him from feeling any twinges of nostalgia but as the palace that he had lived in for five years crept steadily into his line of vision, he felt strangely at peace. A strange sort of relaxation came over him and the irritability that had been rapidly accumulating due to his tension began to slip away. He had never really thought of Arus as home–he didn't consider any planet to be "home" anymore. Earth had become so distant a memory he scarcely thought of it at all and while he lived at GG, it could hardly be called a home by anyone's definition. Still, now that he was back, a sense of completion was washing over him, accompanied by the sensation that something that had previously been missing without his knowledge had fallen back into place. Even the throngs of people gathered on either side of the walkway to the palace didn't bother him as tremendously as they had at the shuttle station. It was almost as if layer by layer the walls he had constructed around himself were being stripped away and he finally was the man he would have been if not for Lotor and the forces of planet Doom. Without his realization of it, he had begun to smile and he was equally as unaware of the stares he was receiving from his companions because of it. Even Chancellor Mika was openly gaping at the transformation in the former Voltron Captain, heedless of whether or not Keith caught him. Unexpectedly the shuttle came to a stop, sending its inhabitants lurching in several directions. Surprisingly the first to his feet, Keith strode to the doors, an air of impatience suddenly surrounding him as he looked over his shoulder and said,

"Let's go."

Blinking, three pairs of eyes stared back at him for several moments until Lance shook himself and replied,

"Right."

Exchanging a glance, Hunk and Pidge both nodded and rose to their feet. Not bothering to wait for either Mika or their escorts, Keith exited the shuttle without even a backward glance. Lance wasn't far behind, throwing the flabbergasted Chancellor Mika an easy grin as he passed. The change in Keith's manner, while abrupt, was too encouraging for him to ignore. For ten years he had seldom seen Keith as he was now; the man who had left Arus had vanished underneath the veneer of GG and the secrets he wore as an invisible cloak around himself and the return of the former was almost painfully startling. Whether or not it would continue throughout their stay on Arus, Lance wasn't certain. He had a sneaking suspicion the moment they came in contact with a certain princess, Keith would retreat back into himself again but he could always be mistaken. More than anything he hoped he was. Behind him, Hunk and Pidge gave Mika similar smiles before exiting the shuttle, even Pidge's reserve was crumbling at the sight of the bewildered Chancellor. To his credit, Stevan was the first among the guards to regain his wits and pursued the Voltron team out of the shuttle. They had not gone far. Keith's sense of protocol had not allowed him to leave without the Chancellor and when Mika finally did emerge, an unattractive glower on his face, Keith turned to him with a perfect air of neutrality. If possible, Mika's glower only grew all the darker and he gestured somewhat roughly towards the beckoning palace before he started walking in its direction, flanked by his equally surly guards. Only Stevan had a smile, however slight, for the Voltron team as he waited for them to proceed. Once again the cheers of the surrounding crowd filled the ears of the Voltron force and the mood that had so suddenly struck Keith only strengthened as he played his role to the fullest. Occasionally nodding and smiling at the crowd, Keith looked every inch the captain he had been and his former teammates could only shake their heads in disbelief. It was infectious, Keith's mood, and before they knew it, the others were playing along, acknowledging the crowd with an air of benevolence they hadn't the right to feel. Of the three, only Hunk didn't suspect Keith's change in manner as an act to hide a mounting unease.

Unease or no unease, the Voltron Captain's attention was far from his own actions. Steadily coming into view was something just as familiar as the metallic towers of the castle and far more riveting: the Black Lion. From the moment he had first glimpsed the spacecraft perched on its usual platform overlooking Arus, Keith had been unable to look away. New battle scars now marked the Lion's surface, even from this distance, and his brows drew together at the sight. During the five years he had flown the Lion, it had seen its fair share of damage but he had never known the craft to retain any outward signs of it for more than a few days. All of the Lions shared the same uncanny ability to appear relatively new even after withstanding penetrating damage...why the Black should now carry marks of its battles, had there even been any battles to speak of, both puzzled and alarmed him. Something was definitely different about the Black, however. Its stance as it sat overlooking the planet seemed somehow changed, almost as if some of the superiority it had once felt had been stolen from it. Defiance still radiated from its pose, but it was somehow more subdued, as if the Lion had been cowed and hadn't yet regained its old courage. All at once Keith found himself longing to be at its controls again with an intensity that came from ten years of denial. Whatever completion he had felt from looking at the palace, it had vanished in the face of the Lion he now knew he needed to fly again before he left. Disturbingly he felt the sensation of another missing piece returning to himself and he scowled momentarily. Had he really become so much a part of the Lion and the Lion so much a part of him that neither would be whole without the other? If it were true, he would always be hollow...he couldn't fly the Lion again on a regular basis, it simply wasn't possible. Raising his gaze to the slitted yellow one of the Black, Keith started to raise his hand in a salute when something glittered within the Lion's eyes that looked shockingly like recognition. Coming to an abrupt halt, Keith gaped back at the Black, who now looked no different than it had a moment ago and yet...he was not prone to hallucinations but certainly he couldn't have seen what he thought he saw. It had merely been the sunlight filtering in through the trees or just a product of his imagination. Unbidden, Stevan's words in the shuttle returned to him and he couldn't repress a shudder as the young guard proclaimed, "the Black Lion is haunted."

Recovering his wits, Keith hurriedly resumed his course towards the ever beckoning palace, determinedly resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder at the Lion. Once acknowledged, he could no longer shut out the call to fly the craft that was singing in his veins and he gritted his teeth in anticipation of Coran's expression when he made such a request. Perhaps it would not seem so out of line; perhaps whatever forces had brought him here would require him to fly the Lion again. He hoped so, far more than he would have liked to, he hoped so. In many ways, the Black had been a friend, even if it was nothing more than a spaceship. He often forgot that it was a ship and not the beast it resembled; something the others had had difficultly with as well. More often than not, the Black had seemed like another member of his team whose strengths and weaknesses he had to know and be able to adjust to in order to make the right battle decisions. And in other ways, it had been a haven. Inside the Black's cockpit, the entire world had faded away until there was nothing but Keith and the controls of the spacecraft. It was the same simplicity he felt when he was drilling his students at GG and yet somehow different. The Black Lion was different.

With every step, he was drawing nearer and nearer to the palace and with each one, the nerves in his stomach began to accumulate. He could see them now, in the distance, just as he thought he would, assembled on the balcony where he had stood countless of times himself. Thankfully, they were nothing more than indistinct blurs at this distance, but he could still decipher them. The two taller prominent ones could only be the royal couple and the smaller, hovering beside the one on the left the afore mentioned Prince Cael. Behind them he thought he recognized Nanny's dumpy frame–surely none of the Chancellors curved in so many places–and the taller figure beside that one could only be Coran. Standing in a half circle were six other figures, most likely the Chancellors from the remaining sectors of Arus. Quite an assembly to greet four motley space explorers. A wry smile found his lips at the thought and he tore his gaze away from the figures as their details became more distinct. There would be time enough for first impressions when he reached the infamous platform and, though he hated to admit it, he was afraid to meet her gaze, even from a distance.

A mixture of pride and anticipation flooded through the Queen of Arus when she first saw the four members of the Voltron Force upon the bridge. They were her boys, after all. Men, actually, but she still thought of them as boys, even though Pidge had been the only one who fit the term on their arrival. Her boys and they were all finally with her on Arus again. Liran didn't understand why it excited her so and she didn't exactly blame him. He had never understood her connection with the Voltron Force or why her time spent as a member of it was so important to her. She supposed it was because he could never be a part of it that caused him to resent it but she lamented it all the same. In fact, she suspected he was almost as tense as she was at the prospect of all four of them being at the palace at the same time. Of the three he had met, Hunk was the only one who didn't seem to unsettle Liran. Lance and he...theirs was not an amicable relationship and he complained that Pidge always seemed to know what he was thinking, not to mention whatever it was that he carried on his shoulder. As for Keith...she couldn't imagine the two men ever having more than a polite respect for each other. Cael, too, seemed torn between nervousness and excitement as he alternately clutched at his mother's skirt and stepped away from it. Ordinarily a serious, reserved boy, his inability to stand still was both unsettling and refreshing to see. Too often Allura thought that he didn't act the way a nine year old boy should, seeing as he hardly got himself into any scrapes and apologized without being prompted even when he did. Reassuringly she put a hand on his shoulder to still him and received a quick smile in reply. He had a politician's smile, her son–it was the one thing Liran said he had inherited from him and she didn't doubt it. The Voltron Force had drawn near enough for her to be able to discern their features and she looked down at them with a growing sense of affection.

The leader she skipped. For days she had coached herself not to look at the former Voltron Captain and even when she managed it, she wasn't sure how. Lance caught her gaze first, even as he brought up the rear. Each time she saw him, she marveled at the swagger that refused to vanish from his walk and the fact that he never seemed right in a uniform. He was still Lance, however, even GG could not completely change him, though heaven knew they had tried in ten years. Briefly his gaze flickered up towards the balcony and she thought she caught a hint of a smile as he acknowledged her with a slight nod of his head. In reality, she supposed it was more the understanding that existed between her and Lance that unsettled her husband, rather than his unwarranted interest in Arusian politics. Liran didn't suspect her of anything–he knew her too well for that–but it unnerved him that she should call the cocky ambassador her brother and mean it in every sense of the word. Over the years he had become that to her, being the only member of the Voltron Force who communicated with her regularly despite his infrequent visits. In almost every way, Lance was the brother she would have wished for, though perhaps, she would have preferred that he not be so prone to sticking his nose into situations where it didn't belong. She was glad he was here again...she had a feeling she was going to need him.

Hunk and Pidge, walking side by side, were such a vivid contrast it took all her control not to laugh. One fit his uniform impeccably while the others looked like its buttons would burst at any moment. She adored Hunk, however. Since he had left, he had ceased to become a former team member in her eyes and was more of a favorite uncle. His jovial manner and his stories about his home life were things that she both enjoyed and envied. It was a marvel to her that he, out of all the members of the Force, had been the one to find such happiness in marriage. As for Pidge, though she didn't know it, she looked at him with the same mixture of sadness and interest that Keith did. In him she saw little traces of the enthusiastic boy she had known on Arus but the man he had become was fascinating in his own right. He had become mysterious, which was something remarkable in itself, considering he had once worn his heart on his sleeve. Girls swooned when he passed now, an action she could never quite adjust herself to. She knew it was due to his enigmatic air and the fact that age had changed his youthful features into something quite pleasant to look upon but she couldn't shake the image of the gawky boy she had known and could not imagine getting into a flutter over. There could be no putting off of it any longer and though she wasn't ready, her gaze fell upon the former Voltron Captain for the first time in ten years.

Ten years had changed him in looks and manner, that much she could see even from this distance and yet she would have known him in an instant. His hair was still incredibly black–from Lance's quips she had thought it was faintly streaked with gray from stress–but was cut short, by Keith's standards–she supposed his old style wouldn't have been thought kindly of by GG–and still seemed to lack any sense of order. It was his face that had changed the most. Though still refined and relatively youthful, a sense of age hung around his features nevertheless. For a man who had seldom smiled, he now appeared to have forgotten the expression entirely and his forehead seemed predisposed to wrinkle in a frown. She wouldn't have said that it made him unpleasant to look upon, however. Gone was some of the youthful exuberance she remembered, but what had taken its place was none the less handsome or appealing. Physically she could not find one thing that had changed, he was neither taller, nor wider, or leaner than he had been when he left ten years ago. Lance had said that he kept himself deliberately active at GG, not wanting to become soft even though his life was no longer one of constant action. He still had that air of authority as well. She didn't find it surprising that he was once again leading his companions, though she suspected some of it was out of habit more than anything else, but people had always deferred to Keith in the past and she was certain they would again. When he spoke, people listened and what he asked, they did...nothing would change that. Nothing had changed for her either. The sight of him still had an effect on her, despite all her hopes that it would not. Oh it was no where near what it once had been, which had been paralyzing and intoxicating all at once, but it was still there. She supposed she would never be able to look at him and not feel something, but this went beyond the natural shock of seeing him again and she hated it. More than anything she had wanted to be able to look at Keith and not experience the same emotions she once had, even in a weaker sense, but she should have known it wasn't possible. She didn't want to be so susceptible to him but some part of her was, against her own will, it seemed. Tearing her gaze away from the trim figure she knew too well, she looked instead at her husband and threw him an encouraging smile. Though Liran returned it, she could see the worry mixed with apprehension in his eyes and she feared that her own expression mirrored it. And, despite all her efforts to silence it, a tiny voice within her was wondering: why didn't he look at me?

A fanfare from some miraculously produced band was playing while Keith and the others stood outside the balcony doors, waiting to be announced. Now standing side by side, Keith had Lance on his left and Hunk on his right, with Pidge on the other end. For the first time in his life, Keith thought he was seriously going to be sick. He both wanted the doors to open and to remain here, poised on the brink forever. Once he stepped through them there could be no turning back and he feared for what lay ahead for himself...and the others. Before he could brood on it further, the doors opened and Chancellor Mika led the way, looking every inch the grandiose politician. After exchanging one last glance with his friends, Keith stepped forward as well, not missing the slight touch on his shoulder from Lance and silently thanking him for it. Both Lance and Pidge were watching him closely now; he was aware of it but trying desperately not to care. Only Hunk, good reliable faithful Hunk, was oblivious to what this stint on the balcony represented for him. It was the first time he would see them both...see the three of them.

The sun dazzled him as he stepped out onto the balcony, accompanied by the suddenly deafening cheers of the crowd below. Slipping into commander mode without even realizing it, Keith promptly shut out all outside distractions and focused on the people assembled before him. To the left were the seven chancellors, now joined by Mika to complete their total of eight. Of the seven he had not been introduced to, one was a woman, two were men of middle years like Mika, three men whose hair had been gray for quite some time, and one extremely young looking man. Whatever the age requirement was he must have just passed it, Keith surmised, and his sympathy for the young Chancellor increased when a second look at the woman revealed her to be older than him as well. It was a fair representation of Arus, however, or at least it seemed and that, to him, was something of a relief. All were garbed in robes similar in cut and style to Mika's and made a sort of rainbow as they were all different colors. Idly Keith noted that three wore black, brown, and gray...odd colors, he would have thought to represent a sector. The young man was the one in black, something which must also stand as a sort of trial for him. The woman was resplendent in yellow and her gaze, when Keith met it briefly, seemed to be torn between focusing on him or on Lance. Wryly he supposed he knew what was the source of that and mentally shook his head at his friend's usual success with women. As a whole their faces betrayed nothing but mild interest as they surveyed the Voltron Force, something he found more than refreshing in the face of Mika's slight disdain. Perhaps their voices would be listened to after all. On the right were two extremely familiar faces. One was the even plumper form of Nanny, though he noticed her hair was no longer as curly and more than faintly streaked with gray. Disapproval radiated from her as strongly as it ever had but she managed a proper curtsy of respect to them. Desperately Keith checked his smile as she looked on him with particular mistrust...it was oddly refreshing that Nanny's opinion of him hadn't wavered in the slightest. For some reason he didn't mind still being the wayward space explorer in her eyes. As for Coran, his hair, too, bore the marks of age, but that was the only physical difference Keith could see. Despite the gray, his hair was still abundant and longer than most men's. His drooping mustache hadn't vanished, along with the air of dignity that he carried about him. What startled Keith the most, however, was the absence of mistrust in his eyes. Somehow in ten years he had gained Coran's respect. He didn't want to speculate on how it had happened, he only knew that when he looked into the older man's eyes, he no longer had the sense of continually failing to measure up to Coran's standards. Perhaps now they could be the friends Keith had always wanted to be without whatever it was that had stood between them. Knowing Coran as he did, he doubted it however. Coran was like Allura in that he would always put the needs of Arus first and the moment Keith no longer seemed to support those needs, he would turn.

He could avoid looking at the royal family no longer and as he did, an unfamiliar tightness seemed to swell up in his chest. Stubbornly, he looked at Liran first. Though the current King of Arus had arrived on the same day he had departed from the planet ten years ago, Keith had never laid eyes on the man before. Even Arus appeared in the news briefs at GG, he hadn't allowed himself to see a picture of its king, not wanting to know anything more than he had to about the man who had married Allura. At first glance, Liran seemed everything you would expect of a king. He was not too tall, perhaps a few inches taller than Keith, and broad in the shoulders. Though he was not a man of action, he kept himself fit and looked no older or younger than his reported thirty-seven years. Light brown hair that was immaculately straight fell just past his ears, a cut that would have looked silly on most men and yet somehow looked right on him. His facial features were well-defined, as if they had been sharply chiseled, with prominent cheekbones and a nose that was as straight as his hair. If his forehead was a trifle too large, Keith did not allow himself the observation, but his brows were serious and his lips thin, but quick to smile. His smile was what drew Keith's attention now, it was easy and winning, the mark of a true politician and from what he had heard, Liran was a diplomat in every sense of the word. Keith supposed that most women would find him handsome, certainly there was nothing unappealing in his carriage or his features and yet...he couldn't like him. It was not because of Allura. She was part of it, he wouldn't deny it, but as he looked at Liran and the King steadily returned his gaze, something struck him as wrong about the man standing before him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was there, the faintest trickle of unease and try as he might, he knew he wouldn't be able to shake it. Liran, he could see, was just as uneasy about him, for all his dazzling smile and the fact amused and heartened him ever so slightly.

Next he looked at the boy. Since Cael's birth, he had never had more than a casual curiosity in him. Lance and the others had told him things, naturally, being unable to resist, but he had not inquired after him. The thought of Cael was often painful though he had never had a strong desire for children of his own. There was very little of his father in him, was the first thought that came to him as he found himself looking into the extremely serious gaze of the nine year old. He was short for his age but he wore his Arusian uniform nevertheless with a faint sense of pride. Already there was a distinctness to his carriage that would have suited a cadet at GG rather nicely. His hair was a strange mixture of his parents', being a light brown and lacking Liran's perfect alignment as it was extremely unruly. It was short as well, and spiked out in several directions, reminding Keith strongly of a younger Pidge on a windy day. His eyes, however, were his mother's, just as blue and just as serious as they looked back at him. The rest of his features seemed to be distinctly his own, however, he lacked the distinctive nose of his father or even his mother and his face was more triangular shaped than anything else. The bow he gave the Voltron Force was flawless, almost disturbingly so, and Keith wondered suddenly if Cael were too serious for his age. He liked the boy, however, in spite of himself. Despite his rumored adoration of everything Voltron, Cael was behaving nothing short of respectful towards them, even though Keith could sense the eagerness underneath his polite behavior. There was an earnestness to him as well that was incredibly appealing...he sensed the boy had his mother's spirit and he could well imagine what a handful that might make him. There could be no more putting it off...in a mixture of reluctance and fear, he let himself look at Allura.

Ten years had not dampened her beauty in the slightest, if anything, it had enhanced it, though it no longer was the hidden, girlish beauty he remembered. She had aged well, that much was certain, and he could only mark it off as a measure of her happiness. Still golden, her hair was no longer as long as it once was, and she, surprisingly, did not wear it up as she usually had. Pulled back only by a pin, it fell midway along her back and lacked most of the curl it had once possessed. If not for the boy standing next to her, her figure would not have revealed she had had a child, she was still as slender as she had always been. Her gown, of a pale blue color that seemed white in some light, was neither modest nor revealing, but somehow lovely just the same. The same white tiara was on her forehead and the sight of it brought a faint smile to his face in spite of himself. She was still lovely and still radiating a determination that refused to be stifled, even if it was somewhat more subdued. He gathered that to be the influence of the man beside her and a result of the pressure of ruling over a planet as vast as Arus. There were the faintest traces of worry in her features...she did not seem as carefree or as vibrantly passionate as he remembered, possibly time had taught her to hold her tongue, and her forehead seemed as prone as his own to sometimes crease in worry. All this he had done without meeting her gaze and he found himself doing so before he was even aware of it. For an instant everyone around them disappeared and he felt as if he had been dealt a physical blow. Every curse he had ever heard rushed to his mind as he realized that he had been a fool to think that he would be able to face her as casually as he would anyone else from his past. It was still there. Perhaps not as strong as it once had been, but there was still something between them and he realized miserably that there always would be. He had thought that seeing her with her husband and child would cure him, would at least stop him from wondering how she had changed, if she had changed, but he had been a fool to believe it. She should not still have this effect on him but she did and his stay on Arus would be unbearable as long as he was near her. Coming back had been a mistake. He only hoped he wouldn't have cause to regret it.