The morning of Sven's funeral dawned with a storm worthy of his North Atlantic homeland. Lance glanced out the guest room window and watched as cold rain and hail pounded the castle, and a frigid wind howled mournfully. A small sound in the room recalled his attention to the bed, where Romelle slept fitfully. Quietly he sat beside her, hand on her shoulder, hoping he could be strong enough for both of them, grateful that she had said no to the sedatives the Royal Physician had wanted to give her. Painful as it was, he knew from experience that she needed to remember what was happening. She tossed and murmured, and Lance wondered what her dreams held. "Sleep, little sister," he whispered, smoothing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "You'll need it later."
Romelle stood on a snow-covered cliff, looking down into a river gorge, a cold wind swirling her cloak around her. The scene put her in mind of Sven, and she closed her eyes at the pain in her heart, tears welling in her eyes. "Shhh, min kjaerlighet," a familiar voice whispered as callused hands closed on her shoulders. "I promised I vould alvays be vit you, and I am." Startled, Romelle spun to find herself looking up at a young, healthy Sven. He was dressed as he had been when she first saw him, and an enormous black bird perched on his shoulder.
"Sven!" she cried, flinging herself into his arms. His embrace tightened around her, and she was lost in the cool pine scent of his strength. "Oh, goddess, I can't do this! Please don't leave me!" she sobbed.
"Alvays am I in your heart, min elskede," he murmured. "But much as it hurt to leave you, I could no longer bear the pain of staying. My body vas destroyed; I had to leave it." She felt him pull away, and looked up through her tears into his gaze. "I could not leave vitout seeing you von more time, and so I asked Sigrun for this last favor." He glanced to the side, and Romelle followed his gaze to a heavily armored young woman, bearing a striking resemblance to her, who stood just out of earshot. "She is a Valkyrie, come to take me to my reward," Sven continued, "But she agreed that I might see you once more, and give you a gift." He leaned down and kissed her, as tender and loving as he ever had. "I vill alvays love you, Romelle Amarrissa, and alvays vill I vatch over you. Vhen it is your time, I vill come for you. Until den. . ." he placed his hand on her chest, palm over her heart. As she watched, blue light flared around and beneath it, and a cool sensation washed over her. Sven moved his hand, twitching her cloak and dress aside to reveal a snarling blue lioness, a bouquet of white roses between her paws and just over Romelle's heart. "Remember me, min kjaerlighet. Remember our love, and know I take it vit me." She closed her eyes as he leaned down for another kiss; when she opened them, he was gone and she stood alone.
"Sven, don't go!" she screamed, sitting up into a pair of strong hands. She fought to get away, then a voice finally broke through her sleep.
"Romelle, Romelle! Wake up, you're dreaming!" Lance held her carefully but firmly, and was finally rewarded when her eyes flew open wide.
"It. . .it was just a dream? But. . . I felt his arms, I could smell him! And. . . ." Romelle yanked her nightgown off, oblivious to Lance's gasp of surprise and furious blush, looking, looking. . .and there it was. Just as in her dream, the lioness snarled from her left breast, fur the exact blue of Sven's eyes. "Oh, Goddess," she breathed. "It was real. He was here! Sven. . ." Her tears welled up again, but were abruptly cut off by a choked noise. "Lance!" she scrabbled for her gown, the covers, anything to cover herself. "Oh, I am so sorry!" She looked around the room, out the window, anywhere but at her husband's best friend. What had she been thinking?
Lance took a breath and got control of his embarrassment, taking her hands when he heard her gown settle back into place. "It's all right, Romelle," he said gently. "You just surprised me, is all. What was that all about, anyway?" She haltingly recounted the dream, ending by modestly pulling her gown aside and showing him the top of the tattoo. Lance reached out and carefully traced it with his fingertips, wonder in his eyes. "I'll be damned," he said softly. "I've seen some strange, powerful shit in my life, but this. . ." he shook his head. "I knew the Viking loved you; I didn't know just how much." Romelle started to cry again; he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight and rocking her as she cried, stroking her hair. "I miss him too," he whispered, tears running down his own cheeks. "I promise to take care of you, Romelle. I'll always be here for you, no matter what." She didn't say anything, just clung to him sniffling.
A discreet knock on the door brought Elena, Romelle's maid, to get her dressed and ready for the funeral. Lance gently disentangled himself from the princess, only to have her grab him again. "Please, don't leave me," she begged, blue eyes huge and tear-filled.
"Sweetheart, I have to get ready too, and I can't stay here while you're getting dressed," Lance answered softly, wiping her tears with the back of his fingers. "I promise, I'll be back as soon as I can. You'll be fine with Elena." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then headed for his own room, laying his dark grey dress uniform, sword, and red sword belt out, carefully checking the ridiculous number of medals before heading in to shower and shave. Thirty minutes later, looking every bit the hero he was, he knocked on Romelle's door. Elena opened it and stepped back to let him cross to the sad little figure in black that sat before the vanity.
"Time to go, Romelle," he said quietly, putting a gloved hand out to help her to her feet. She put her hand in his, gazing up at him trustingly as she rose.
"You'll stay with me? Please?" she asked, clinging to his arm.
"I'll walk you out, but I can't stay, Romelle. I'm one of Sven's. . .escorts," he finished lamely. "You're walking with the kids, Bandor, and Irenea, remember?"
"No!" Romelle shook her head wildly, tightening her grip. "Please, don't leave me! I can't do this!"
"Shhh. . .all right, all right," Lance soothed. "Let me talk to Keith and see what we can do, OK? Give me a minute." She nodded sadly and let go of him; he stepped into the hall and pulled out his com. "Keith, we've got a problem. Romelle's hysterical; begging me to walk with her in the procession." He paused for a minute. "I can't leave her like this, brother. What can we do?"
There was a brief, muffled discussion on Keith's end of the com, then the Commander of the Voltron Force spoke clearly. "Stay with her, Lance. Alfor says he will be honored to take your place."
"Tell him I owe him one," Lance answered, relieved that the Crown Prince of Arus was willing to fill in on short notice. "See you out front, then. McClain out." He returned the com to his pocket, and went back into Romelle's room. As he entered, she looked up hopefully, and he smiled at her. "Everything's settled; I'm all yours, little sister. Ready to go?"
"No," she said softly, taking his arm. "But I'll do what I have to. Just. . .stay with me."
"I'll be right with you," Lance promised as they walked out. "Lean on me, Romelle; don't think you have to be strong."
When they got outside, a flag-draped casket sat on a gun carriage at the foot of the stairs, with the Force, Jeff, Cliff, and Alfor guarding it. Romelle gasped at the sight of it; Lance exchanged a glance with Keith, and the escorts moved away and out of earshot. "I. . .I want to say goodbye to him alone," Romelle whispered, and Lance nodded, slipping his arm from her grasp.
"Take your time, little sister. I'll be waiting," he answered, then watched her walk slowly down the stairs to the casket. She lay across the head of it, speaking too softly for him to hear, then straightened, tears shining on her face, and turned to him.
"Let's go, Lance," she said quietly. He came down the stairs and offered her his arm; Erik and Mira, followed by Bandor and his wife, fell in behind them, the Force took their positions, and the procession escorting Pollux's greatest hero to his final rest began.