The Marshal of Arus walked into Castle Control. The young lieutenant on duty glanced around at his footsteps, then snapped to attention when he saw who was standing there. "M-Marshal, sir! Nobody told me you were coming, sir!"

The Marshal hid a grin. "Relax, Lieutenant. I didn't tell anybody I was coming. I just wanted to look at things." He eased into the lieutenant's chair, wincing as his bones creaked. "Do an old man a favor? I could really use a cup of coffee." The lieutenant hesitated, reluctant to leave his post. "Lieutenant, I am the Marshal of Arus. The only people who outrank me are the King and Queen. If you CO has a problem, send him to me."

The lieutenant nodded and vanished. The old Marshal waited until he could no longer hear footsteps, then raised the dais and slipped into the number one chute, the cocky grin of a much younger man on his face. A minute later, Black Lion roared to life and raced into the stratosphere.

In the cockpit, the Marshal closed his eyes and let the years fall away. When he opened them again, he was just Lance McClain, the best damn pilot Arus had ever seen. And the most conceited, a voice teased at the back of his mind. "You're just jealous," Lance countered, sending Black into a dive. "Damn, but I've missed this!" He spent the next fifteen minutes putting Black through his paces, inordinately pleased that he hadn't lost his touch and his reflexes were only a little slower than they had been in his 20s. You know they're coming after you, the voice chuckled. You've got the whole Castle in an uproar. "Let them come." Lance turned Black back towards the Castle and saw Blue Lion coming up in front of him. "I needed to do this, and you know why." Yeah, I do. Turn your COM on before Prince Lars has a stroke. I'll see you soon. Lance smiled softly and hit the switch for the COM. "Calm down, Lars, I'm on the way back in."

The prince grumbled. "I'm not happy with you, Uncle Lance. I want to see you in Control. Blue Lion out."

Lance laughed and set Black down on his pedestal. He was still laughing when he came up in the control room and came face to face with a fuming Lars Holgerson. "Are you out of your mind, Uncle? You had no business in that Lion, you could have been hurt or even killed! Why didn't you ask one of us for a ride? You know we'll take you up anytime. This was stupid!"

Lance glared at Lars, and the fire in his green eyes had the prince backing up a step. "I would advise you to remember who you're talking to." The soft voice was pure steel. "I may be old, but I am no fool, and I don't take kindly to being thought one."

Lars gulped. "I-I'm sorry, Uncle. I don't think—"

"Yes, you do. I did at your age," Lance snorted. "I didn't ask for a ride because I wanted to FLY, not be taken on a couple of laps of the Castle grounds at stall speed and be told how much FUN it was." The sarcasm in his voice had Lars blinking. "As for being hurt or killed—I flew Black for 25 years. We know each other inside and out; he wouldn't let me get hurt."

"You might as well let it go, son," a voice chuckled. Lance turned to see King Erik walking into Control. "Your grandfather Sven told me a long time ago that Lance was the most stubborn man he'd ever met; you aren't going to get anywhere arguing."

Lars looked back and forth between the two older men, still clearly angry. "How did you even do it? I KNOW Mieke didn't give you Black's key."

"No, she didn't," Lance agreed. "Black called me. He wanted to say goodbye."

The royals' eyes went wide. Erik found his voice first. "No. You-you can't die, Uncle Lance!"

Lance raised an eyebrow. "I promise you I can, Erik. I'm 86 years old. I'm tired, and I've been alone far too long." He smiled. "I never expected to see 30, let alone 86."

"But we need you!" Lars protested.

"No you don't. You have good pilots in the Force, and more coming along. The Denubian Galaxy is at peace, and it's time I was too."

"When?" Erik asked.

"I don't know." It was a lie; Lance could feel his life slipping away as he stood there. As he spoke again, his voice went rough with emotion. "But I'll tell you both now; I'm very proud of the men you've become, and I couldn't love you more if you were my flesh and blood. Guard Arus well, and remember me." He embraced them both, fighting tears, and then turned and left before they could think to stop him.

His steps soon brought him to the Memorial Garden, where his teammates slept. Lance himself had begun the Garden when the war ended two years after Keith's death, planting red roses around the black marble obelisk that bore Keith's name in both kanji and English script. Over the ensuing years, the Force had turned the site into their private retreat, adding benches, walkways, a fountain, and a mixture of plants native to both Arus and Earth.

Lance eased himself down onto his favorite bench next to Keith's grave and let his mind wander. Hunk had been the first to join their fallen Captain, just five years after the war. He had been swept away trying to rescue some children from a flash flood. Pidge had been next, some fifteen years later. Not even 40, he had succumbed to the genetic disorder that had kept him from growing past 5 feet tall.

And then there was Sven and Allura. Lance chuckled as he remembered. The beautiful monarch had fallen hard for the quiet Norwegian, and he quite frankly had worshipped her. They had ruled Arus together for sixty years, dying within hours of each other just two years previous. Would've been nice if we could've done that, Lance thought, not even noticing as his head fell forward and he drifted off. . .

"I've waited 65 years for you, and you can't even wake up to talk to me," a voice chuckled in Lance's ear.

Lance startled awake. Sitting next to him, dressed in his familiar jumpsuit, was—"Keith!" He threw himself into his husband's arms, sobbing out 65 years of loneliness. Keith held him tightly, stroking his hair and letting him cry. Finally, Lance got control of himself and sat up, noticing as he did that he was wearing his old leather jacket and was 21 years old again.

Keith grinned at him. "Nothing's ever going to separate us again, Beloved. Come on, there's a heck of a party waiting for you!" He pulled Lance to his feet and guided him down the path. After three steps they vanished, leaving behind only the echo of their laughter and a worn-out, no longer needed body.