The present Castle of Lions was built partially on top of a much older fortress — an ancient stone castle, which had been destroyed by Zarkon's troops. A set of narrow, convoluted hallways at the back of the present castle connected it to the ancient fortress.
Coran found himself walking through these hallways on his way to the Royal Crypt. After a few false starts, he found himself walking down a hallway that was very old and obviously seldom used, judging from the dust and cobwebs that decorated it.
He didn't expect otherwise. The Royal Crypt was not one of the more popular areas of the castle. Except for Allura and possibly an old retainer or two, it was doubtful that anyone passed through them regularly.
The passageway ended at a dark hole. He placed his torch in a special scone in the wall and watched as one by one, the torches along the walls flared to life to light his path down a long spiraling staircase.
He climbed down it gingerly, supporting his weight on the cane he had taken to carrying around. Once he reached the foot of the staircase, he paused to catch his breath— he was not accustomed to physical exertion — his heart was pounding so hard that he could hardly hear himself think.
He took the opportunity to study his surroundings. The flickering torch lights revealed an arch above the entrance to the Royal Crypt, which was emblazoned with the motto and crest of the House of Lyonnaise, who had ruled Arus for thousands of years.
"My sword for your protection, my hand for your justice and my life in service of you."
He entered the room and was overwhelmed by the sense of history imbued in this place, as he always was. It was amazing. The walls and floor of the crypt were lined with hundreds of graves. All the kings and queens who had ever ruled Arus were buried here –except for one – Juliana.
Alfor had refused to let his wife be buried here. In his grief over her death, he could not bear to think of her being buried in the Royal Crypt, away from the sunshine and the gardens that she had loved so much. He had ordered Coran to arrange for her to be buried on the bluff overlooking the Castle, so that she could always watch over Allura.
Coran came to a halt before the tomb of King Alfor. As always, he was struck by how lonely it looked, without Juliana's at its side. He shook his head and scolded himself for his uncharacteristic sentimentality before turning to the matter at hand.
He bowed and knelt before the tomb, speaking to Alfor as though his friend could hear him. "Hello, old friend. I've come to you for advice, as I always do. Not that I have to listen to you anyway," he said, in just the way that Alfor used to say it.
Despite Coran's best efforts to restrain him, Alfor had been drawn to trouble like a moth to a flame. Allura took after him in that respect. The two of them were always trying to right a wrong, without thinking of any possible consequences to their safety or dignity or whatever.
He smiled as he remembered happier days. The Little Princess had been the pampered darling of the royal household. Stories about Allura's antics and escapades brought smiles to the face of every member of the royal court.
That was not the case now, he thought dourly.
Allura had become a handful. She was determined to prove herself worthy of her heritage by becoming a member of the Voltron Force and piloting the Blue Lion, despite all the danger involved in doing so.
To her mind, she was capable of protecting herself, despite what others may think. She could not understand that her innocent nature and fragile beauty triggered the protective instincts in the people around her.
He chuckled softly, remembering several spirited discussions on that topic between the princess and the young Voltron Force captain, one of the few people who could — and would — stand up to Allura.
He secretly enjoyed watching those arguments. Keith and Allura were both proud, independent people who were too stubborn — and blind — to realize what was in front of their noses.
It seemed like everyone knew how they felt about each other except Keith and Allura. He knew that the rest of the Voltron Force worried about his reaction to their relationship, if it could be called that.
He smiled in satisfaction, thinking of the role he played so convincingly. The Voltron Force thought of him as the Princess' heavy- handed guardian. No one would ever suspect him of secretly plotting how to make Keith and Allura realize that they were meant for each other.
He groaned suddenly. The dampness of the crypt and his kneeling position had made the ache in his joints become more pronounced. He pulled out his old-fashioned pocket watch and glanced at it. He was amazed at how much time had passed.
"It is not easy to grow old, Alfor." He leaned heavily on his cane and pushed himself to a standing position. "You would have hated it. The spirit feels just as young as ever, but the flesh, ah, the flesh just reminds you of how many years have gone by."
"Do you remember Juliana's vision?" Coran paused, as if waiting for Alfor to respond to him, "I have met the young man that Juliana saw. He flies the Black Lion and commands the Voltron Force. You would approve of him, my friend. Somehow, he manages to ground Allura in ways that I never would have thought possible." Coran sighed tiredly and glanced behind him again.
"It is time for me to pass the guardianship of your daughter on to him, Alfor. I wish him the best of luck. He will need it," Coran smiled faintly. He was torn between a laugh and a sad sigh, "I will be seeing you again soon, my friend."