The cathedral was packed, with only the main aisle open. Sven's casket was borne to a waiting platform in front of the altar, then Keith and Jeff carefully folded the flag back and opened the casket. Sven lay on a bed of white flowers, hands folded on his chest around the hilt of his sword. Guided by Lance, Romelle slowly walked up the aisle and knelt beside the casket, stroking Sven's lifeless fingers, heedless of the tears that dropped onto them. Slowly her hands went to her neck, removing the diamond and sapphire cross Sven had placed there on their wedding night 25 years earlier. Tenderly she draped it over Sven's crossed hands, her fingers lingering on his wedding ring. "Jeg vil alltid elske deg, kan vi møtes igjen snart," she said softly, voice breaking on a sob. Lance went to his knees next to her and helped her rise, guiding her to her seat and wrapping his arm around her, shielding her from curious gazes.
The Archbishop of Pollux came to the head of the casket, sprinkling holy water over Sven and reciting what Lance assumed were prayers. He wasn't listening too closely; religion didn't hold too much sway in his life to begin with, and his attention was focused on the heartbroken blonde princess crying into the side of his dress uniform. Sven really had been her world; he hadn't realized how much until the Norwegian was gone. Lance really didn't see how Romelle was going to live without him. In the back of his mind, a plan started to form. He set it aside to gel and turned his attention to the front of the cathedral as Space Marshal Dukane got up to speak.
Jeff was thoroughly annoyed. The president of the Alliance had called him the night before, giving him instructions on what to say in his speech, dictating a bland, politically safe bunch of mush that distantly mentioned Commander Holgersson but was essentially a sales pitch to get Pollux, and more to the point, Arus, in the Alliance. The two planets had declined membership after the Doom war, citing the abandonment of the Voltron Force to fight Doom singlehandedly, and withdrew Voltron from support of Alliance missions. Ever since, the Alliance had been all but frantic to get them in. Which led to directing Marshal Dukane to give a rah-rah speech touting the Alliance, at the funeral of one of his oldest and dearest friends. As he crossed the stage, and glanced into Sven's casket, something in him snapped. Sven deserved better than what he was about to do, even though defying his orders would mean his career. "Fuck it," he thought to himself, straightening his uniform as he stepped to the podium. Putting his hands on it, he leaned forward and looked out into the crowd, meeting the gazes of Cliff, of Keith, of his beloved Ginger. "Sven Holgersson was the kind of fighter every soldier prays to have guarding his back," he said quietly. "Absolutely lethal, cool and collected in a fight, and willing to give his life for his team. But he was so much more." He took a deep breath. "Sven was a kind, loving, man, devoted to his family. I never knew him to have friends; if you were that close to him, you were his brother, or his sister. And oh my gods, did he love Romelle. His face just lit up whenever her name was mentioned, and corny as it sounds, they absolutely glowed in each other's presence. Then there were his children, Erik and Mirakel. I remember him calling me, telling me of the birth of each of them. He was so proud, so happy. It was the best thing that ever happened to him." He glanced at the casket, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Gonna miss you, Viking. Too damned soon, my brother. Sleep well; we'll take care of them." He turned and walked offstage, briefly stopping to kneel and whisper to a still-distraught Romelle before returning to Ginger's side.
Keith was supposed to speak next, but before he could even get to his feet, the back doors of the cathedral flew open with a bang. As everyone spun to glare at the disruption, a deep blue mist billowed in, taking the shape of a lioness. Slowly the ghostly form paced up the aisle, head hung low, going directly to the casket and sitting for a long moment, head resting on Sven's chest, whimpering loudly. At length it got to its feet and went to Romelle's side, nuzzling her hand. "B-blue?" she whispered, and the spirit purred loudly, rubbing against her. "Oh, Blue! I miss him so much! Why did he have to leave me?" Blue yowled mournfully, then lifted her head to lock gazes with Romelle. He has not left you, Princess of Pollux, Romelle heard in her mind. So long as you love him, he will always be with you, and watch over you. Remember that, and, when the time comes, remember he would wish you happy above all. Farewell. The spirit dissolved into mist and faded from the church; Romelle turned and sobbed into Lance's jacket as he held her, rubbing her back and staring at the spot where the spirit had been.
In the hush afterwards, Keith walked to the front and put his hands on the podium. "Well, that's quite an act to follow," he said softly. "King Alfor wrote more than once that the bonds between Lions and pilots were stronger than even they knew; I guess we just saw proof of that." He looked at Romelle for a moment, then back to the congregation at large. "Sven was from a region of Earth called Norway; he traced his ancestry back over two thousand years, to a group of explorers and warriors called Vikings. He was very proud of his heritage, and I think it only fitting to say goodbye to him with a prayer from their funeral rites." Keith closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and began to speak in slow, clear, Norwegian. "Lo, gjør det jeg ser min far. Lo, gjør det jeg ser min mor. Lo, gjør det jeg ser mine søstre og mine brødre. Jeg ser en linje av mitt folk tilbake til begynnelsen. De kaller meg til å ta min plass i haller av Valhalla hvor den modige kan leve evig." He gestured to Jeff, Cliff and the others; as one they moved to the casket, taking positions around it. Lance whispered to Romelle, and the princess stood, head bowed, and went forward, Lance's arm around her. One final time she knelt and kissed Sven's cold lips; as she stood with Lance's help and moved back, Keith and Jeff closed the casket and replaced the flag. The Force then lifted the casket, carrying it out of the church, Romelle walking behind it, supported by Lance.
After Sven was laid to rest in the royal crypt, Romelle went to lie down, aided by the sedatives her doctor had prescribed. Lance stayed with her, holding her hand, until she fell asleep; he then slipped out of her room and made his way to the reception Bandor was holding, looking for Keith. Once he found the Commander, he pulled him into a private corner. "We have to get back to Arus soon," Keith said quietly. "Probably leave first thing in the morning; how much longer are you going to stay?"
Lance took a breath. "For good. Romelle's a complete wreck; she can't be alone, the kids have to get back to the Academy, and Bandor has his own family and duties to tend. I've given this a lot of thought, Keith; I'm resigning from the Force, effective immediately." He held out Red's key.
Keith was stunned; that was the last thing he had expected to hear. Lance's bond to Red was the tightest of any of them; for him to give that up. . . "Are you sure, Lance?"
"I am. Alfor's more than ready to take my place; Red's been hinting for months that he wants him." Lance tilted his head. "I'll always be there when you need me, you know that. But. . . Romelle needs me more, and I promised Sven. It's the only way, Keith. "
Keith nodded, reluctantly, and took the key from Lance's outstretched hand. "I understand. It won't be the same without you, brother." He pulled Lance into a firm embrace; when they separated, their eyes were suspiciously damp. "You know we'll expect you for Thanksgiving, you and Romelle."
"Wouldn't miss it." He wiped his eyes. "Better make the rounds and get back to her; last thing I want is for her to wake up alone." Lance squeezed Keith's shoulder, then went in search of his other teammates. Tears were shed when each of them learned he was staying; Allura cried the most. After promising to stay in touch, and to visit often, he went back to Romelle's room, settling in a chair beside her bed, hand holding hers. He had promised to stay, and stay he would; perhaps one day he could tell her. . . he shook his head. "When the time is right, McClain. Just be here for now." One day. . .he sighed. Until then, if it ever came, he would keep his promise, protecting Romelle, letting her lean on him as a brother.
A/N: Keith's prayer comes from a movie, The Thirteenth Warrior, but is a genuine Viking prayer, thousands of years old. The translation:
Lo, there do I see my father.
Lo, there do I see my mother, my sisters and my brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning.
Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place on Asgard in the halls of Valhalla,
Where the brave may live forever.