Coronation

Chapter 1

"Something came for you today." Allura paused and looked up from the stack of parchment she was bent over as Coran walked into her office. The elderly man paused to regard his charge. "You look tired," he commented and she just let out a low exhale in response.

"It's these old documents. I'm trying to read through them but the ink is faded or smudged in some places," she admitted, setting aside the worn, yellow pages.

"What is it you're looking at?" Coran came around her desk to look at what held the young queen's attention. "These are in Drulish. Old, at that," he exclaimed, surprised. Allura nodded in response.

"It's part of what is making it so difficult. I've only been learning the language for about a year, I'm not nearly proficient enough to understand some of this, especially when it gets technical. It's an old treaty that established a trade negotiation with another star system. It was signed by, I believe the ruler before King Zarkon's predecessor. So you're right about how old it is, and it is one of the longest standing non-hostile agreements of the Drule Empire. It's why I'm particularly interested in it. I'd like to know why."

"Are you concerned?" Coran's wary tone belied his worry.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Since things have been relatively peaceful for the past year and we've set up a network of allies and trade partners and seem to be doing well with it…" She trailed off, hesitating a little. "I know I might be dreaming a little big but I'd like to look into negotiations with the Drule Empire itself next."

Coran just raised an eyebrow at her. "The Drule Empire: while it isn't conquering new worlds anymore, is still not even remotely aligned with the Galaxy Alliance. They still have firefights over contested territories, you know, and they haven't surrendered anything they've conquered."

"I'm aware, but to be fair, I'm not entirely aligned with what the Galaxy Alliance is doing, either. I feel like it's entirely too militaristic at this point when we are pushing so hard for peace. But, then again, I'm not a tactician. I've always maintained Arus to be just an ally of the Alliance and only tangentially related. I don't want to get sucked into someone else's war."

Coran murmured in assent. "I think that's very wise of you, I always have." Allura sighed a little and opened a wooden box and gingerly laid the old parchment inside, latching a lid closed to protect the relics.

"How on Earth did you get your hands on an original, anyway?" The advisor shook his head in disbelief as he set the worn box on a shelf behind Allura's desk.

"I spoke with the people the trade agreement is with - they're in the Crimson Quadrant. I'm sure there's a second copy in Castle Doom somewhere. I'd also wager it's been digitalized in some format or another, but I wanted to look at one of the two originals. Asking to borrow Castle Doom's copy would tip them off that I was interested in it and I'd much rather familiarize myself more with the arrangement – and the language – before I give that much away," she conceded, standing up from her office chair.

Allura's hair was braided back in an elegant fishtail, swinging down her back as she moved. She wore her mother's crown; considerably larger than the modest princess tiara she had used for so long. It flashed like a halo in the sunlight as she stood before the open window.

"Has it never been translated into any other languages?" Coran's eyes tracked her as he eased his hip against her antiquated mahogany desk. He found it interesting, albeit unsurprising, that despite finally accepting the title of Queen and embracing the throne, Allura had never once sat upon it. Dust covered the stone chair in the throne room; King Alfor the last to ever touch it. She had created her own throne room within the library, using her father's desk instead.

"It has – but a translation is only as good as the translator. While I'm not particularly proficient in the language, I at least know I have no political bias in how the final product is worded. In fact, I'm especially interested in seeing it without anything of the sort," she explained, folding her arms behind her back as she gazed out the floor-length window upon her planet below. "Everything is quiet. It's nice, don't you think? Though it feels a bit odd sometimes," she added.

Coran just shrugged and approached her, coming to stand next to her in front of the window. "It's natural to feel a subtle unease – It was only in his last couple years did King Zarkon scale back his aggression against you. And even then, it's only been a few weeks since he passed away and it's stopped completely. Lotor still hasn't exactly shown his hand on whether he intends to pick up where his father left off or if he's interested in something else," he mused.

Allura nodded in assent. "That's also another reason I've been working on this translation. It's been a project of mine for about a year now – Zarkon's health was failing and it was only a matter of time – and now that the old regime has finally retired… this is as good of a shot at unity as we will get. If Lotor intends to continue with the aggression and war, so be it. But I think there might be a chance he won't," she said. "Maybe I'm just being too hopeful."

"Well, don't sell yourself short. You might be on to something," Coran hedged, offering Allura the reason he had sought her out in her study in the first place. She turned to look at the piece of mail he extended to her and she delicately plucked the navy blue, refined cardstock envelope from his hand.

Physical items were so rarely sent that they were almost exclusively for formalities. The paper between her fingers was luxurious and expensive with a special attention to detail. The front of the envelope had her name written with elegant script in gold ink. The back was sealed with a crimson wax stamp with the letter L artfully embossed into it.

She held the light piece of paper in her hands for a moment, her breath catching at the sight of her name on the front. Surely he didn't write it… Each letter, each stroke of the calligraphy pen was precise and perfect. The script wasn't especially feminine or embellished, but it was very artfully and very slowly done with an exquisite attention to detail and patience.

"Thank you," Allura said after a moment and eased herself into her desk chair. Coran bowed once and departed the office, leaving the queen with her privacy. Her hands trembled as she held the paper. Why is my heart racing? …Am I afraid? After a shaky exhale, she turned the envelope over again and with a gentle snap, the seal popped free.

Allura struggled to slide the delicate piece of matching navy blue paper from the envelope with her unsteady hands. She felt a warm flush on her cheeks and her breath catch as the small letter unfolded in her palms. It was brief, but few words were needed to convey the intensity of the message. The same script as the front graced the inside. It simply listed a time and a date followed by a single word.

Please.

Though the entirety of the correspondence contained only her name, a time and day, Allura knew exactly where it was, what it was, and who was inviting her. Her heart hammered in her chest.

It was King Lotor's official coronation ceremony and he was personally inviting her to attend. She doubted heavily the other guests in attendance received the same sort of personal invitation.

Allura found herself both surprised and deeply flattered to realize they needed so little words to communicate. Though their relationship had been rocky at its best, wedged and fractured by combat and festering desire, it had still been intimate. More often than not, they had been adversaries. Facing off against each other across a battlefield or Allura fleeing with Lotor in quick pursuit - and yet they knew each other. Between the launched missiles, stray gunfire, kidnappings and ultimatums, they had developed an understanding. While most of their interactions had been hostile in the past, Allura wouldn't have been surprised if the Drule knew her better than her own commander. There was just something on a primal level between them; a heat she couldn't explain. Her heart raced at the thought of him. Her cheeks blushed as she bit down on her bottom lip. Was peace possible? And if so, then what would follow? Without constant conflict between them, where did that leave the two of them?

It's Lotor. Why is your heart racing? Why does he make you blush? Allura shrugged off the voice in her head as she set the invitation aside. Just an invitation to an exceedingly important event in his life. Only an invitation he spent quite a while making, despite its simplicity. Time where he would have been thinking about you while carefully and patiently carving each letter of your name out- Allura shook her head violently to stop her thoughts again, her cheeks blushing hotter than they had before. There was something about the little details and elegant succinctness that caught her eye. Leave it to King Lotor to have figured that out about her already.

With a groan, she stood up and paced around the office before departing to go look for Coran. She needed some outside advice before her own inner monologue drove her mad.

Lotor stood in front of the mirror, dressed in traditional Drule regalia. It was a more lavish version of his normal attire and held some of the trinkets and adornments that his father's outfit had sported.

The crown that would be placed on his head rested on a satin pillow nearby, waiting to be collected by one of his attendants. Lotor had been prepared and dressed for the event for the last couple hours, but he kept adjusting the outfit to give himself something to do as he waited for the ceremony to begin. Why he was nervous, he couldn't imagine. He had dreamed of this day since he was a little boy but now that it was upon him, he felt agitated.

"Sire," a knock sounded at the door, arousing him from his train of thought.

"Enter," he beckoned, both a little annoyed at the intrusion but also relieved at the release from his thoughts.

The guard pushed the door open and bowed low. "A thousand apologies, My King, but I thought you might like to know. A couple of the Voltron Lions were spotted in the distance."

The room grew still.

"Which ones," he asked slowly.

"From what we could tell, Black and Blue Lion."

Air rushed out of Lotor's lungs in a quick exhale, his world tilting slightly by this news.

"She came," he murmured in bewilderment. He hadn't actually expected her to come - and he wouldn't have blamed her for that decision. In her world, she was taking a chance by coming a second time to his planet. Into his castle. It also meant she had understood their unspoken dialog with his very vague invitation.

"What is their status?"

"They landed a short distance from the castle on one of the hills. They're far enough away to be relatively unnoticed and not stir up commotion, but close enough to cover the distance to the castle easily. Blue Lion is powered down in the usual resting position, but Black Lion is sitting upright next to it. The commander is sitting on top of his lion's head, watching the castle. Our guess is that Blue Lion is empty, but that's unconfirmed. We haven't seen the pilot yet."

"He's babysitting her," Lotor grumbled to himself. "As long as he stays put there and is just a sentinel for the queen, let him be. He doesn't trust her to walk back out of the castle of her own accord. Doesn't trust me, rather," he amended bitterly. He couldn't find a logical way to blame the commander for his concern, but it still irritated him.

"Should we approach?"

"No," he sighed. "As much as getting into it with the commander would be a delight, not today. Again, keep an eye on him, but leave him alone as long as he's only watching from a distance."

The guard bowed without a word and opened the door to leave. As he did so, a clamor of noise rose up from the main hall where all the guests were gathering. Laughter, cheering and general excitement echoed into the room before the door swung shut, leaving Lotor alone.

"Sire," Haggar opened the door while she was knocking on it, not waiting for permission to enter. "Everything is ready. We can begin as soon as you are," she said.

"Let's begin." He picked up his sword and swung it around his waist, attaching it to the gold belt he now wore.

As he entered his own throne room, all the murmuring and chattering fell deathly silent. His own boots clicked against the floor with each stride as he walked the full length of the room. Briskly and with purpose, he strode past all the citizens of his empire who had gathered for this occasion. Thousands of chairs had been laid out around the room and still more people were standing in the back. All eyes rested on him and he stayed focused on the ornate chair topping the high pedestal before him. A flash of gold in the corner of his eye told him precisely where Allura was, but he didn't dare turn his head.

The guests who had taken seats had risen from their chairs reverently as he walked by, covering the distance from door to throne with each stride. Coming upon the stairway, he took each step with deliberation and concentration. After what felt like eternity, he was standing before his own throne. Upon the seat sat the crown his father had worn for so long, waiting for him to claim it.

For many civilizations, it was customary for a clergy, priest or the king himself to crown the new ruler. Most Drule thrones, however, were taken by force and rarely relinquished willingly. The previous owner of the crown more often than not wasn't around to see it passed along to the heir.

He took a deep breath and reached for the crown carefully, and as custom dictated, he placed it upon his own head before turning to look at the room behind him. Cheers erupted as he sat down in the chair, Haggar coming to take her place standing by his side. War chants broke out in some pockets of the large crowd and some women screamed at him to take them to his bedchambers. The sound of loyalty and adoration in the room was deafening as thousands of Drules rejoiced.

It took only a very quick skim to find her. Allura was nestled into a back corner with the rest of the standing guests. Lotor quickly commended himself for not looking for her sooner because as soon as his eyes caught hers, the world went silent around him. His ears only heard her breathing and laughter, his eyes only saw her. Her blue gaze was locked on his, a secret smile on her lips as she clapped demurely. When he made eye contact, a blush flared across her cheeks before she averted her eyes.

Allura was stunning. Her hair was curled and pinned away from her face, falling in waves down her back. She was wearing her formal crown - something he hadn't seen on her the last time they had met. Her gown was exquisite, layers of navy and black billowing around her like the night, accents of cyan adding moonlight to her night sky. It rested off her shoulders leaving her décolletage delightfully bare. A large sapphire teardrop rested just below her collarbone, the only adornment about her throat, while matching smaller sapphires graced her earlobes. Long sleeves ran the length of her arms and flared out around her wrists.

His fascination with her shifted quickly to concern as one of his elite female warriors caught her attention. Fiora was dressed in pants and a dress shirt, her arms muscled and rugged. Her dark blue hair was cropped short and she towered over the Arusian queen. Allura's weight shifted as she turned to look at the woman, her own eyes a wide with surprise. Fiora then said something that caused Allura to laugh. After covering her mouth politely while her shoulders trembled with her mirth, she then turned her back partly to the woman. The Drule quickly put her hands into Allura's hair and began petting it. Blonde hair was a very rare occurrence among Drules and often only entered the gene pool through mating with humans.

The King found himself relieved that the woman wasn't trying to harm nor intimidate Allura but was instead simply fascinated by her hair. He tore his eyes from her to look to Haggar next to him as he felt his jealousy start to rise.

The witch nodded to him once and signaled for the room to quiet down for the new king. Lotor exhaled and began his speech, keeping it brief. He touched on the traditions of the Drule race, commented on the fractured state of the empire and vowed to continue to pull it back together. After a quick sermon no more than twenty minutes long, he concluded his remarks and encouraged everyone to mingle and celebrate. In the large dining hall next door, guests were encouraged to eat, drink and be merry. Cheers erupted as he finished, and the guests all rose to their feet to cheer for their new king.

Gradually the crowd began to disperse, chatter and noise coming up from the large sea of people. The throne room slowly emptied into the dining hall a little at a time, bodies moving and circulating around the room.

Lotor found himself frustrated when officials kept approaching his throne and catching his attention. He couldn't seem to take more than about five steps down the staircase before another noble, officer or war hero called for his time.

His eyes scanned the crowd of people and found Allura standing in a circle with four other Drules. While she seemed to be shyly talking to them, they made no effort to hide their delight and fascination to see her within their castle walls. He was only half-paying attention to what his commander was saying to him as he strained to catch their conversation.

Without warning, Allura tossed her head back and laughed at something the duchess on her left had said to her. Her voice carried across the room and sounded divine. It wasn't until one of the two males standing with her moved to her right side that Lotor became edgy. He detached himself from the commander and started moving toward where her party was gathered.

"Oh, hell no," he muttered as he practically jogged through the crowd toward them. The male had snaked an arm around Allura and was drawing her in closer to his side. Sweet thing that she was, she was attempting to tactfully step away without offending anyone, but her new companion was not taking the hint. Or he was blatantly ignoring it.

"Good afternoon Zarius," Lotor called out with false politeness as he strode up to the group. Zarius practically leaped off of Allura at the murder in his king's eyes and he bowed low before him, his Drule companions following suit. "Would you be so kind as to excuse us? I'd like to speak with Queen Allura," he drawled dangerously. His hand had already tucked under her elbow and was leading her away before he finished his sentence.

Allura felt a shiver run down her spine at the possessiveness in his voice when he spoke to Zarius, and her panic hitched a little as he led her through the hallway and out a side door with determination and control. She tugged at her arm in protest, but he held fast. The door led to a little sitting room design to give small groups – or couples – privacy during larger events. The intended purpose appeared to be for meetings with a circular table and four chairs in one half of the room, but the sofa and loveseat near a fireplace on the other side didn't go unnoticed. Allura swallowed heavily as he pulled her inside, the door swinging shut behind them.

More to come soon!