Author's Note: I don't own Voltron or any of the characters, save the one(s) I create.

I began writing Voltron fanfiction when I was a kid in 1992. The stories and characters have evolved a lot since then, especially with Voltron's new reincarnation on Nicktoons. I was inspired to renew my own Voltron saga after seeing the episode entitled "Ghost in the Lion."

The name of Sven's son, Erik, was chosen on the forum website. Kudos to them!

My chapter titles are all song titles. The way I write is simple - I think of a concept for the chapter, put on a song that somewhat matches the concept, grab a shot of Ciroc or a glass of vino, and go to town.

Title Song: "Someone Like You" by Adele

"Sven, I still have your wedding band," she whispered into the cold air. "And you still have mine."

The plain platinum band, so small and delicate, was threaded along the silver chain around his neck. He pulled it out from underneath his shirt and stared at it. It felt like he only chained it there yesterday; he promised her they would be forever. His own platinum ring pulled heavily from the chain around her neck. Her chocolate-brown eyes sparkled sadly as she looked at it.

"Elskede," he called out to her in the Norwegian term he used only for her, "don't be sad. I am still alive, and I still love you."

"No you don't," she countered. "If you did, you wouldn't have had a baby with her."

Sven woke from the dream abruptly, gasping for air as he did. No. He couldn't have had that dream again, he couldn't have. She was in the past. She stayed in the past. Yet she continued to haunt him even now.

The night was cold. Well, on Planet Crydor, that was a given; it was always cold there. His Haggarium infection was slowed by the freezing temperatures, and he had adapted to the weather the best he could. He hadn't originally wanted to settle on Crydor, but he had no choice. Once word got out on Pollux that Romelle had given birth to their child, he had to leave quickly before he was put to death. Pollux was still too old-fashioned, and its inhabitants wouldn't have thought twice about executing him for creating a new life with their darling princess. They were terrified of him. They hated him. They would have killed him and his son without a second thought.

Erik. His young son was on Planet Arus, he knew that much. The boy was safe there with Allura and the rest of the Voltron Force. And now that Pidge knew about his infection, he was sure to be working on an antidote for him. He would just have to wait for everything to run its course.

Yet he couldn't shake her from his mind.

Now fully awake, Sven rose from the bed and trudged towards his bureau. He didn't have many belongings, and certainly not many from his past. Yet there was one item from his old life that still remained, the one item that continued to haunt him. He fished through the drawers for it now, that expensive piece of Tiffany jewelry that they purchased together on Fifth Avenue a lifetime ago. Before they graduated from the Academy. Before he had ever flown Blue Lion. Before he was bitten by Haggar's cat and grievously injured by her robeast. Before he encountered Romelle for the first time in the Pit of Skulls.

Holding the small wedding band in his fingers, he wondered if he truly had ever loved his son's mother at all. Well, he supposed he did love her well enough. But he wasn't good enough for the throne on Pollux. Her people, though they loved him and respected him, did not accept him as Romelle's consort and let him know as much. He had to flee Pollux in the middle of the night with their son. Crydor was his home now, and it was just as well.

He thought about his elskede as he held the ring. She was beautiful with her long chestnut hair and high heels. She had a playfulness about her that no one else at the Academy, save Hunk, had. But he knew better - that playfulness masked the sadness within her; the sadness that was literally painted onto her black lips.

When Sky Marshal Wade took over after the fiasco he staged with the Voltron Lions, his elskede had gone into hiding. No one had seen or heard from her since. For all he knew, she could be dead. That was the real reason why he'd gone to Romelle. If he couldn't have his elskede, then he'd have the next best thing.

Sleep would elude him now, he knew. He sat in front of the closed window in his bedroom, her wedding ring in hand. The wedding ring they never got to use. They had made a promise to each other that they would marry when they were reunited, and had each other's ring to cement that promise.

That promise would never come true. He was stranded on Crydor and had a child. Wade was gone, and so was she.

She's dead, he thought grimly. She must be. Why else haven't I heard anything about Lenora Stensson for so long? He tried to find comfort in the smooth, cold platinum under his fingertips, but there was none.

The room was dark. She sat alone in the living quarters of his triplex apartment in New York City, rocking back and forth in the antique rocking chair he'd inherited along with the apartment when his uncle passed away years earlier. Gazing down at the fourth finger of her left hand, she studied the diamond. It was a 2.5-carat engagement ring from Tiffany & Co. - the Lucida cut, she guessed - and it was set in platinum. It must have cost him a fortune. But then again, nothing was too expensive for Jonathan James Hawkins, the commander of the Stellar Ship Explorer and the disbanded Voltron Vehicle Team. His inheritance was considerable, and every other female she knew longed to be in her shoes.

She was so grateful to Jon and everything he'd done for her. When Wade first took over the Alliance and forcefully ousted her from the position she had been appointed to - she had been the one Graham had originally chosen as his successor - he had done everything in his power to assassinate her, or at least throw her deep into the Void. Luckily, Jon came to her rescue. Jon hid her out in every place he knew, including his pied-a-terre in Paris, his two-bedroom condo in Boston, and his three-bedroom condo in Las Vegas. She had been living an incredible life on the lam, but when Wade was finally brought to justice by the Voltron Force, she was ready to accept her role as Galaxy Garrison's newest, youngest - and first female - Space Marshal.

She didn't realize how hard Jon would fall for her in the process.

Did she love him back? She looked at her engagement ring and thought that yes, she did love him. He wasn't her true love, of course, but he was a good man and they adored each other. The only thing she didn't like about him was when he called her Beloved. That wasn't his name to call her.

She heard the floorboards creak, and she stirred slightly. "Lenora?" Jon asked quietly, stifling a yawn. "Are you coming to bed, my angel?"

She stirred slightly, looking over her shoulder and tossing her long chestnut-brown ponytail with it. "In a few moments, yes," she answered, watching the sparkles reflecting off her ring. "I have to do something first."

He nodded. "All right. Don't be too long." He smiled at her. "Our bed is cold without you."

Once she was sure he had gone back to the master bedroom on the third floor of the triplex, Lenora rose from the chair and made her way to one of the guest bedrooms on the second floor. Many of her belongings were stored in there. She unlocked the door and moved to one cardboard box in particular.

Immediately on opening it, she found what she was looking for. The robin's-egg-blue box had been in the same pristine condition for ten years, since they originally bought it. For years, she wore the men's platinum wedding band on a chain around her neck, along with a certain cross and a certain cornicello, all the way until her first kiss with Jon. Afterwards, she put it back in the box, chain included. It was the right thing to do.

She remembered the day they bought those two rings together at the Tiffany & Co. on Fifth Avenue. Their wedding bands. They had only been twenty-one years old, ready to graduate from the Space Academy and spend their lives together as a married couple. It didn't matter that they were so young. Love like theirs only came around once in a lifetime.

Neither one of them expected him to be recruited for a special mission to Planet Arus.

They exchanged the rings - she had his, he had hers - and promised to meet again. Then they would marry. Ten years later, she still hadn't seen him. He was probably dead now. Princess Allura had long since replaced him as the pilot of the Blue Lion, and no one had heard a word from Sven Holgersson since. It was time for her to move on.

She felt the cold, smooth platinum underneath her fingers, and she fished the silver chain out of the box. Threading the chain through the ring, she decided she would wear Sven's ring around her neck throughout her marriage to Jon. She would be married to both of them; legally to Jon, spiritually to Sven. It was what her heart wanted.

Leaving the guest room, she made her way to the master bedroom, where she joined her fiancé in bed. He turned to her and wrapped his strong arms around her. "Tomorrow you officially become the Space Marshal," he murmured sleepily, planting a kiss on the side of her face. "Things are finally going to get better for the Garrison."

She smiled back at him. "Anything has to be better than being under Wade's control."

Nestling into each other, he suggested, "Then, once you're in charge, we can finish our discussion on reinstating Vehicle Voltron and the Explorer."

Sleepily, she nodded.

As she drifted off into sleep, Lenora felt safe and protected. She felt loved, and she loved her fiancé in return. But Jon would never be Sven, and she would never love him the same way she loved the man who once called her Elskede.