Author's Note: Well, we've reached the final chapter in Book #2. This has been a real ride, and we've covered a lot of ground over the past six and a half months, so I'd like to thank every single one of my readers for sticking around 'til the bitter end. In particular:
To Mer3Girl, Charigul, and Pinky Starflower - Thank you for your support and messages. Your ideas and music choices have been represented and hopefully noted whenever they've appeared. I am grateful for all of your input!
To Craze and Smithy - Thanks for following along on this crazy journey. You guys are great in the fact that you didn't have to check in, but you did anyway. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that.
To MSSNC, FroofyB, and bknbu - Having your continual support during this book has been key. I am so glad to have you onboard, I've loved hearing from you, and I hope you stick around for the next installment.
And finally, to my girls Sally On, Emie Mac, and Wade Wells - Well, we made it through another book. Thank you so much for carrying on the tradition. Thanks for the help, the support, the messages, the ideas, the input, telling me how much you love my crazy characters, and threatening to beat me if I ever hurt Commander Hawkins (you know who you are!). I will be so sad if I don't see you for Book #3.
Lots of love to all of you, and hopefully I'll see you again for Book #3!
Love, Kath
Title Song: "Here With Me" by Dido
Lance slapped Keith on the back for what had to have been the gazillionth time since coming back from Earth. "Dude. You're the captain of the Voltron Force. You're not supposed to get married, Dummy!" A sly grin spread across his face. "Or should I say, Crankypants?"
It was difficult for Keith to be angry. "Hey, do you see a Crankypants here? I don't."
It seemed as though all of Arus was thrilled about the engagement between its princess and the captain of the Voltron Force. Nanny had wept into her handkerchief, Coran had opened a case of champagne that had been in storage from before the Zarkonian Wars, and Larmina - very surprisingly - had gone into full-on dress-finding mode. Specifically, she was looking for a dress for herself. The cadet figured that if she had to be in the bridal party, she might as well find a dress she could deal with.
It wasn't only the Arusian citizens that were happy, though. Messages had come pouring in from throughout the entire galaxy. Prince Xandre and his younger sister, Delphine, had sent their congratulations from Planet Scilos. Queen Anadora and Prince Luthcar of Planet Brann sent their regards, as did Prince Erimar of Planet Tyvel, albeit reluctantly. Queen Clarissa and Prince Stephane of Planet Exxus were pleased, and Planet Pollux - well, Allura's cousins were beside themselves at the impending nuptials.
Unsurprisingly, the leaders of the Galaxy Garrison on Earth were overjoyed as well.
There were many other planets that expressed their well-wishes to the soon-to-be queen and her royal consort. It was overwhelming. Allura didn't know if she and Nanny were up to the task of planning a wedding this big. Coran figured that they'd have at least a thousand guests, and most likely more.
"I can't believe you did it," Lance continued quietly. "I can't believe you're gettin' hitched." Then, looking back over at his friend, he asked, "Hey, you're not quitting Black Lion, are you?"
Keith shook his head. "No. I'll fly until Black tells me to stop." He looked over at Lance. He was his friend, his second-in-command, and the true owner of the beanbag chair in Jeff's quarters on the Explorer. "Allura, on the other hand...I think the transfer of Blue Lion to Larmina is coming. Of course, Allura won't give up her spot on the team right away, but I think that once we're married, it'll be a different story."
"You might be right about that." Lance shrugged, wishing to all seven hells that he had a cigarette on him. "But Larmina will be good for the team. And don't tell them I said this, but Dan-Man and Vince will be good additions as well. If we decide to let them on, of course."
"Of course."
Lance was desperate to talk to Keith about his conversation with Black Lion. Of course, now that Keith was engaged to be married to Allura, most of their conversations revolved around the engagement, the upcoming wedding, and Keith becoming the royal consort. Annoying - and slightly obnoxious - but the Red Lion pilot would deal. For now.
Keith cleared his throat. "So Lance, I need to ask you a question."
"Uh-oh. The last time you said that to me, you'd asked me to fly Black, then see how well Danny Boy and his henchman Vince did with Red and Blue." Perfect. That was the perfect segue into talking about Black, and how Red had already chosen Daniel as his successor.
"Yeah. This time, I'm going to ask you to do something else you're going to hate."
"Dude. Do I need a cigarette for this?"
"Most likely." Keith smiled. "Lance, I'd like for you to be my best man."
Lance almost choked on his own spit. "Dude, when you were on Earth, did you drink enough Ciroc to lose your frickin' mind? Do you realize who you're asking to be your best man? Me! Nobody in his right mind asks Lance McClain to be his best man." He shook his head. "Why don't you ask Sven? He's a fellow royal consort. Or how about your brother-in-law Jeff?" He began to chuckle to himself. "You know, I am never gonna get over the fact that your best friend at the Academy married your sister."
Keith's lips pressed into a tight smile. "Lance, I need it to be you."
The seriousness of his statement made Lance reconsider his reply. "Well, if you really need me to do it, then I'll do it. Seriously, Keith. If you need me, you know there's nothing you can ask of me that I won't do."
He smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Lance." He grinned. "Besides, I'll need you to keep me grounded when my head starts getting too big."
"Well, that I can definitely do." Again, he wished he had some cigarettes. He could toast his friend better with a cigarette than with a shot of vodka. As he moved his hip against the railing, he was vaguely aware of the satchel on his belt. He'd kept Anadora's garnet ring in there. The ring that was meant for Ginger.
Would he ever give Ginger that ring?
"So come on, Lance. I need your input on this next project." Keith turned and moved down the hallway.
"As long as it's not wedding-related."
"It's Voltron-related."
"I'm on it." Lance turned and followed his friend. For now he was still the captain of the Voltron Force. And since Ginger was still on Earth and was still a member of the Vehicle Team, there was nothing to keep him preoccupied. He might as well fight for Voltron.
While he was still Red Lion's pilot.
Hesitantly, David approached the guest room. Since Jeff and Christiane had gotten married, Morgan had thrown herself into fixing up the room that was once theirs. She'd rearranged the furniture, washed the bedding, bought new pillows, and hung up new paintings. It was like her new pet project.
"Morgan," he called softly, "are you ready to come to bed?"
"Almost." She stood back and gazed at the picture she'd just hung up on the wall. It was a photograph of her with Jeff at some formal occasion. "Hey, what do you think of this picture? Lisa took it on Senior Night. Ginger and Cinda gave me and Jeff each a copy at the wedding."
"Hmm." He studied the photo. His wife looked amazing in her one-shouldered violet dress, her hair up in a high ponytail. "You look gorgeous, as always. And Jeffrey...well, he looks so young." He paused. "He was really your date on Senior Night?"
Morgan snorted. "Well, it started off that way."
She sat down on the bed sadly, and David sat down next to her. "I miss them," she mourned quietly, laying her head against her husband's shoulder. "The house is too quiet without them. And it's tough to get used to my best friend not being right down the hallway." She made a face. "Now they're closer to Aidan and Lisa than they are to us."
"I know." He grabbed her chin and kissed her, and for a moment, she didn't care about the emptiness so much. "But Morgan, don't you think that maybe this happened for a reason?"
"Well, I want them to be happy." She shrugged. "But I can't think of a reason. So out with it. What are you thinking, David Nathaniel Rackens?"
He exhaled. "I was thinking that maybe it's time for us...to..."
"To what?"
"To have a baby."
David looked at her so seriously that it blew her away. Yes, they'd been together for ten years. But really...a baby? Didn't he know what a huge responsibility a baby was? And they both had jobs at the Academy, plus they were both a part of Albegas - how in seven hells would they ever be able to raise a child?
She must have looked absolutely panic-stricken, because David drew her into an embrace and murmured, "Whenever you're ready, Morgan. I love you, and I want us to have a family. But you need to be ready."
She wanted to throw up. "Well, maybe when Len and Jon decide to have kids, we can start."
He grinned sheepishly. "I hate to tell you this, but Jon and I have already had this discussion."
"You have?" She wanted to hit him. "Well, thanks for leaving me and my Wifey out of the conversation. You know, the two women who'd be pregnant with your respective children. That is, if you're lucky enough at all to knock us up."
David laughed. He let go of all of his British composure and reserve and cracked up. "I love you, Mrs. Rackens. Do you know that?"
"Some days," she retorted, "you make it really easy to forget."
He lifted her up and carried her out of the guest room and back into their bedroom. Maybe they would have a baby, maybe they wouldn't. Time would tell. But David Rackens knew that he would give up everything else - his position on Albegas, his job at the Academy, his home, even his dreams of having a baby - for Morgan. She was the love of his life.
"Let's go to bed, Mrs. Rackens."
He placed her down at the foot of their bed, and she took his face in her hands. "I love you, David."
"I know."
"So let's."
"Let's what?"
"Let's have a baby." She shrugged. "Though we can't start trying until after my birth control injection wears off. And then for another three months after that. Don't forget the warnings from the doctor about weaning off the injection."
He nodded. "I can deal with that. Now, kiss me before I go mad."
That part was easy enough to take care of.
Lisa was not happy.
For once, it had nothing to do with not being married or her old boyfriend getting married to a woman he'd dated for less than a year. It was the fact that the Explorer was leaving again, and soon she would have to get back on the ship and leave her boyfriend behind.
"I'm not looking forward to this," she groaned, snuggling into Aidan's arms. "I can't stand the thought of spending another eight weeks away from you."
"Yeah. I know." The Albegas captain nuzzled himself into her. She was so warm. So soft. He really didn't want her to leave, either. But she had to. Lisa was part of the Sea Team. An integral part of Vehicle Voltron. And there was no way she would leave without having a really, really good reason.
And the only really good reason she could come up with was if she was getting married. That was obviously not happening.
Not now, anyway.
"Hey, Aidan?" came the sleepy mumble.
"Yeah, Lis?"
She curled into him a little more securely. "I love you."
He kissed her head. "I know, Sweetheart. I love you too."
"You know what else I love? Being in your arms. Having you right here with me." Her last words came with a sleep-filled slur.
"You awake, Lis? Or did you fall asleep?"
Silence. There was nothing except her even breathing.
He smiled to himself in the darkness. "Someday soon, Lis," he whispered, "I'm gonna marry you."
It was getting late, and Christiane sat on the bed, watching her new husband nail a picture frame into the wall. "You can't be serious, Jeff," she laughed as she watched his haphazard attempts with a hammer. "You'll break your entire hand."
"Thanks for the encouragement, Chris."
They were both sad, but they wouldn't talk about it. The Explorer would be taking off in less than a week, effectively separating the newlyweds, and they weren't sleeping much. They were staying awake as much as possible, spending every spare moment in each other's company so they didn't waste their time together. Jeff hated the idea of returning to his post as captain of the Voltron Force. Christiane wasn't so fond of it, either.
"Well," he exhaled finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork, "at least I got the picture up."
She studied the photo for a moment. It was of Jeff and Morgan on Senior Night, and they both looked young and a whole lot drunk. "Congratulations. Do you want a medal, or a chest to pin it on?"
"Keep teasing me and see what I do to you, Mrs. Aki." He kissed the top of her head. "So tell me, how do you feel about your brother getting engaged the day after our wedding? I can't wait to hear it out of your mouth, being his sister and all."
"I think it's about time." She pulled Jeff onto the bed next to her, laughing. "I can't wait for Keith and Allura to get married. They both deserve to be happy, and they'll never be happy without each other."
"Ah. Spoken like a true seer." He sealed his lips over his wife's, pulling her tightly into his body. She was so close, and he loved her so much. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why did they have to be separated?
Maybe the commander was right. Maybe the end was looming for the current Explorer crew and Vehicle Team.
"What do you see for us in the future, Chris?" he murmured against her lips. He didn't mean for the two of them specifically, he meant for all of them. But he supposed that she knew that already.
"There's a jumble of stuff," she replied quietly. "I see gold and circles. I see babies. I see raindrops and wedding bells and fireworks and explosions. I see flashes of purple and white. I see..." she bit her lip. "I see an open casket with no body laying in it. And I'm afraid to tell you what that's about."
"Why? What does it mean?"
"It means that someone will willingly walk into his or her own death. That person will choose his fate and see it coming." She looked up at him. "I don't know who it is, but please, Jeff, promise me that it won't be you."
He knew enough to take her seriously. After her repeated vision with the purple and the icicles, he knew better than to brush off any of his wife's visions. They didn't always have to come true - at least, he hoped not - but he knew better than to ignore what she saw. "Christiane Eiko, I promise you that as long as you're my wife, I will always come home to you. If I don't, it was not because I willingly chose to. I will always pick being your husband over being a hero. Always. Remember that."
She nodded, then let him fold his arms around her. He was there with her, close and warm and comforting. And for now, that would have to be enough.
She was drowsy, safe and secure in that tiny bed that she'd loved her husband in a thousand times. Their skin was damp, their lips raw and chapped from hours of kissing like teenagers. "The air is definitely better in Paris, mon coeur."
Jon looked over at her. "Si vous dites donc, mon ange," he humored his wife.
"I do say so," she retorted, sitting up on her knees. She stuck her tongue out at him. "So there."
He laughed easily, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back down to the mattress. Why was it so easy in Paris? The pied-a-terre, with its balcony and small full-sized mattress, had set the stage for their romance three years earlier. Everything just seemed better in Paris.
He was glad that they'd left New York and gone to France. They had needed to get away from everyone and everything. Paris was their city, their own little place on Earth where they could ignore their rank and responsibility and just be. They could drink wine and eat macarons and make love whenever they wanted.
Pausing for a moment, Lenora laid her head on his chest and listened to his steady, dependable heartbeat. As she closed her eyes, she murmured, "I'm going to fire you."
His eyes fluttered open. "Hmm?"
"I'm going to fire you as the commander of the Explorer. I don't want you to leave again, I want you here with me. You've put in enough years to retire, but you won't do it, so the only logical thing I can do as Space Marshal is fire you."
"Good luck with that." He gave an amused snort. "Don't you think that might look suspicious? Especially considering the fact that I haven't done anything wrong?" He pulled her closer to him. "Lenora, don't ever think that I want to leave you. I've told you a million times that I hate leaving you, no matter the reason. I hated it when you were my girlfriend, I hated it when you were my fiancée, and I especially hate it now that you're my wife."
Three years together, and not quite a full year of marriage, yet they'd been apart far longer than they had ever been together. Were they ever going to settle down and live a normal life? She pressed herself into his body as tightly as she could. "Please retire, Jon. Please. I'm begging you to retire."
He sighed. "Oh, mon ange." He kissed her forehead. "It's not that easy. You don't have anyone to replace me, and you know how thoroughly I'll scrutinize any candidates you come up with. Don't forget that I served on the Explorer under Commander Moriarty for ten years before being promoted to commander myself." He exhaled. "And especially don't forget that this is my uncle's ship you're referring to."
She swallowed. She always forgot that part; how Jacob Christopher Hawkins' steel mill had commissioned the S.S. Explorer. How Jon loved being on the bridge, both as a tribute to his uncle and as a way to feel the man's presence. "I'm sorry, mon coeur. I know how you feel about the Explorer."
"Now, that being said," he changed the subject, his eyes twinkling, "there is something you can do for me that will make me retire."
"Wow. I'm shocked." She ran her black fingernails over his chest, something which she knew would drive him crazy with desire. "Tell me, and I'll do it."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course."
"Well," he breathed, "you could make me a father."
She paused. "Jon?"
"Yes?"
"Did you just ask if we could start a family? If I would have a baby with you?"
"Oui, Madame Hawkins."
"I don't think speaking in French is gonna get you out of this one." She trembled as she wrapped her arms around his torso. "I know you want kids, Jon. I've known it for a long time. And yes, I do want to have kids with you. But I'm still young, and I'm barely a year into my position as Space Marshal."
"Thirty-two is not as young as twenty-two, Lenora," he reminded her gently. "And you forget that I'm forty-two. You forget that I'm ten years older than you are. I don't want to be too old to chase around after my children. I want to be able to walk my daughter down the aisle, or dance with you at our son's wedding. I'd like to hold my grandchild in my arms before I die." He looked at her pleadingly. "I'm already behind the eight ball."
Tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back. "Je sais que," she told him lamely.
"I know you know. So don't be afraid. Trust me." He raised an eyebrow. "As soon as you tell me you're pregnant, I'll go on my last mission and be done with it. I'll retire. I'll stick around the Garrison to help you out at the office, and I'll be home to take care of the baby. Or babies, if we decide to have more than one."
"You want to be Mr. Mom?"
"Don't knock it. It's quite a noble profession. Besides, David and I have been talking, and I think he's having this exact same conversation with Morgan, if he hasn't already." He closed his eyes again. "I would love it. I would be home with you, I'd be home with our family, you could still do your job...but you have to be ready."
"Okay." She was still trembling. "But you do realize that being a mom terrifies me, right?"
"The idea of being a parent terrifies everyone to an extent."
"My mom lost her husband when she had a teenager." She thought about her father's murder again, and how she had lost years of her life because of it. "She never thought she'd be a widow and a single mom. What if that happens to me?"
"Lenora," he whispered, "everything I do is for you. If you lose me, there's a reason for it."
"If I lose you," she choked, "I have no reason to keep going."
"You would if we had a baby."
They laid there together in silence, wrapped around each other. He had always thought that Lenora had been specially made for him; no other woman fit against him as perfectly as she did. "I'm sorry, mon ange. I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm upset with myself." She exhaled. "I thought I'd be ready to have kids, and look at me. I'm terrified. And I love you! I want to have a family with you!"
He nodded against her. "So we'll just let it happen. Don't even tell me when you discontinue your birth control injection. No plans, no pressure, just let everything unfold. And whatever happens, happens."
"I can do that."
"I knew you could." He kissed her cheek. "So then, Mrs. Hawkins, we are in Paris, and we are in the same bed we slept together for the first time on..."
She flipped towards him and kissed him, hard. She was ready to let the next stage unfold. With whatever it held in store for them.
Dr. Deldosa sat across from Sven and Romelle during their joint session, but his main question was directed at the princess. "What strides do you think your chosen consort has made in regaining the trust of your people? Do you think he's doing a good job in winning over the Polluxians?"
Romelle breathed deeply. "I don't think he's doing a bad job, if that's what you're asking," she replied honestly, keeping a careful gaze on their counselor and not on her husband. "For the most part, his rages - which is what scared the Polluxians in the first place - are under control, and he hasn't lashed out in public in a very, very long time. He is an incredible father to Erik, and a trusted confidante to both Bandor and Emma. He is getting along in the palace just fine."
Sven held his breath and tried to pretend they weren't talking about him as though he wasn't there.
"And how do you think those actions of his are changing the way your people think about him, Princess?"
Romelle reached over and gripped her husband's hand. "If Sven is trusted and well-liked by my family, it can only help his reputation outside the palace walls."
Dr. Deldosa nodded. "I agree." He took turns looking at both Sven and Romelle, his steely gaze darting back and forth as he did. "This will be a short session today. I think it's best if you think about what was spoken here today. Let the words digest. We'll reconvene in two days and discuss the topic further, after you've both had some time to mull over Romelle's answer."
They nodded.
On leaving the counselor's office, Romelle made a point of walking back to the castle, gripping Sven's hand in a show of solidarity. This time, she would not let her people dictate her choices. She had sacrificed enough for them, and had let her marriage get this bad on account of them. She was not going to let it happen again.
Sven was quiet. He had forgotten how much he liked holding Romelle's hand as they walked through the center of town together, as if to silently tell the Polluxians that it didn't matter that he was a pilot - he was worthy of their princess. Though he wasn't sure how worthy he was of her now.
He supposed that the only opinions that mattered belonged to Romelle, Bandor, and Emma. And, when he was old enough, Erik.
"So," he mumbled to her, "how much longer do you think we'll be in counseling?"
She inclined her head. "Honestly? I don't know. There are a lot of things we need to work out, but believe it or not, I think we're actually going to work them out." She turned her aquamarine gaze to him. "There are a lot of things we've done and said to hurt each other. But there are other things we've done that weren't meant to hurt each other, but hurt all the same."
He looked confused. "Such as?"
She looked crestfallen. "It's silly, but it hurts me to know that she can speak Norwegian and I can't. And you have a special name for her. What is it? Else...elsk..."
"Elskede," he offered. "Romelle, I taught her the language because we spent a summer together in Norway when we were eighteen. She had no other choice but to learn." He looked sad for a moment. "Would it help if I called you something in Norwegian, too? Gave you a special nickname?"
"It might. Well, let's put it another way: it won't hurt."
"Fine." He smiled. "Min kone."
"What does that mean?"
"My wife."
"Oh." She squeezed his hand. "I like it. And that's something you never called her."
"No. No, I did not."
As they arrived back at the castle, they were greeted to a vision of playful turmoil. Rosalie rushed around after Bandor and Erik disapprovingly, shaking her head disgustedly the entire time. The king had lifted his nephew onto his shoulders and was twirling around with him, laughing all the while, as Emma looked on and smiled.
She'll make a wonderful mother herself someday, Romelle caught herself thinking.
"Ooh, come here, Erik," the queen cooed, lifting the boy off her husband's shoulders and embracing him. She covered his face in kisses, and he beamed at her, delighted. He knew how well he was loved. Emma glanced over to see Romelle and Sven, and she looked back at the boy. "Oh, look who's here! Mama and Dada!"
Erik giggled. His laugh made Romelle's heart melt. How could she and Sven not make things work after creating this special little person? From the way he looked over at her, she could tell he was thinking the exact same thing.
"Mama!" he shrieked, holding out his arms away from Emma. "Dada! I here!"
Sven laughed. It was a completely unfettered laugh; the sound of pure joy. "My boy."
"Indeed." Romelle scooped Erik out of Emma's arms and kissed him. Finally, the boy looked happy and playful. It had been a long, long time since he'd been like that. "Mama's missed Erik! Mama loves Erik!"
It was a happy scene, and Sven finally felt like the ice in his heart was beginning to thaw.
So much had happened over the course of a few short weeks. There had been torment he'd rather not face again, arguments he was not proud of, and desperate attempts which killed him on the inside. And yet, he was stronger for all of it. And his marriage to the princess of Pollux would endure despite it.
Perhaps, for now, it would be enough.
To be concluded...
Watch for "In the End" to finish the SLY trilogy.