A tranquil stillness reigned, as if nature had wrapped the land in cotton to muffle the sounds of the creatures that lived there. The glimmering lake near the Castle was slowly becoming a crystalline sheet of ice, and the bridge over the lake sparkled with the frost that had collected on its smooth surface. Nature was spreading her frigid mantle with a liberal hand; even the majestic Black Lion reposing on the monument in front of the castle was draped in a cloak of colorless splendor.

Winter had come to Planet Arus at last.

A child's giggle and an adult's laughing response broke into the hush. Soon other joyous voices joined the solitary pair. More and more figures dressed in colorful parkas, caps and scarves were started to dot the hilly landscape, several of them dragging sleds or gliding along on skis.

Arusians, old and young alike, were going out into the snowfall to play in it with childlike abandon, or to just enjoy the crisp, moist air and the icy beauty that surrounded them. It was a truly magical time of year, for the cold season on this planet was quite brief; it stayed long enough for the citizens to enjoy the novelty of snow and ice, and disappeared before its drawbacks could become tiresome.

Yes, the majority of the Arusian people were reveling in the wintry weather, but one of their most distinguished compatriots was not.

This snowy afternoon found Coran El-Estad, Royal Advisor and Guardian to Her Royal Highness Princess Allura of Arus, hiding out in his study, deeply immersed in the latest, best-selling Terran mystery novel. His dress coat was tossed to one side, his bow tie was undone, and his feet rested upon a small ottoman, in a rare concession to comfort over propriety. A pot of tea, a cup, and a small plate of baked goods sat on the table next to his favorite easy chair, and the middle-aged man only paused in his reading long enough to take quick sips of tea or grab a croissant when the mood struck him, although his avid gaze never left the pages of the tome for more than a few seconds at a time.

He had just reached a particularly exciting passage, when he heard the muted, chiming summons from outside the door to his study.

Coran glared at the closed and locked entrance to his refuge, willing whoever it was to go away and leave him to the one guilty pleasure he had left in his life; fictional literature. He had gotten this particular book over a month ago and was determined to finish it before someone on the castle staff could spoil the ending for him, since apparently all of them had more time for reading novels than he did. He settled more comfortably into the plush reading chair and returned to the story, pointedly ignoring his unwanted visitor.

The summons came again, this time accompanied by quiet, but insistent knocking.

The diplomat uttered a soft, exasperated oath. He slammed the book shut and ran a hand over his thick, reddish brown hair and down to his neck, which he rubbed in a tired gesture of defeat. Whoever it was apparently couldn't take the hint that his lack of a response to the summons meant that he was not keen on having company.

The complex, absorbing plot the author had penned deserved his undivided attention. He certainly couldn't do it justice until this distraction was dealt with; it was a better plan to face the intruder, send them packing, and then he could return to his story in peace. He decisively rose from the confines of the chair. Striding over to the door, he stabbed at the intercom button beside it with an extended forefinger.

"Yes, who is it?" He spoke in a brusque tone, hoping to intimidate the caller into leaving.

"It's Allura, Coran, and I need to speak with you."

The Diplomat's well-groomed eyebrows shot up, as surprise etched itself on his sculpted features. His Royal charge usually never came to visit him in her free time, because she spent so many hours with him doing her daily lessons and memorizing the dreary volumes of rules and regulations that her vocation required of her. He knew his very presence usually meant drudgery and the loss of her highly prized freedom so it must be a very serious matter if she was seeking him out.

He quickly opened the door and she marched in, clad in her customary pink jumpsuit, and with a troubled expression fixed in place on her beautiful features.

Spying the book in her guardian's hand, his rolled up shirtsleeves and the unknotted tie, she immediately winced in sympathy. "I am so sorry, you were reading. I should come back later." Allura knew all too well how little free time he had to pursue his interests, as most of her guardian's time was spent with her. She turned to leave.

"Nonsense, I can always finish this another time," Coran lied graciously. "I wasn't all that enthralled with the plot anyway." He walked over to his desk and casually tossed the novel on top of a pile of papers.

Allura whirled toward him, and grinned. "As Lance likes to say, that's 'hogwash', and you know it! My dear Coran, you've been plugging away at that book for a good two weeks now. You have your nose buried in it every time I turn around. I am sure you are dying to know how it ends!"

Her guardian smiled ruefully as he turned to her, his mustache curling upwards for a moment. "I must confess, it's been quite difficult, because it seems everyone has read the confounded thing but me, and all of them want to give me spoilers, even Nanny! But if something is distressing you, Princess, then the mystery can wait."

"Thank you, I promise I'll keep this short." She responded, gratefully.

"Please, have a seat," Coran indicated the chair opposite his own.

Once they had situated themselves, the Princess spoke.

"I'll get right to the point. I'm coming to you because I am worried about the morale of the team."

She watched the anxiety leap into the light brown eyes of the man opposite her. "What has happened? The Voltron Force has been wildly successful in defending our planet and numerous others. Surely that is cause for celebration, not low spirits!"

"It has nothing to do with Voltron or our battles with Doom, Coran. The boys have been on this planet for well over a year, and I think they are homesick." Allura informed him, compassion lacing her voice.

"Are the communications from their families not getting through?"

"Yes, but letters and view screens are a poor substitute for a loved one's arms encircling you, as you and I both understand all too well."

Her guardian inclined his head in silent affirmation of the truth of her words.

The Princess shook her head sadly. "The boys have been so quiet; there's none of the usual joking and clowning going on. I would almost say they've been cranky, actually, and it only gets worse when they do get a letter or a transmission from home."

"You know, I have noticed they have been quite subdued lately. I thought perhaps it was a touch of battle fatigue. What you are telling me now makes me think otherwise." Coran stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "I should have anticipated this, because if my knowledge of Terran traditions and customs is accurate, I believe this time of year may bring on even more strain."

The Princess looked startled, and then nodded slowly as she started to remember her lessons on Planet Earth's culture. "That's right! It's December, a month with many significant Terran holidays- Hanukkah, Ramadan, Kwanzaa, New Year's Eve..."

"And Christmas." The Diplomat concluded. "All are holidays that are renowned for friends and families gathering together to celebrate a meaningful event. It's very understandable that Keith, as a native Terran, would feel melancholy right about now, but Lance, Hunk and Pidge, as graduates of the Space Academy, and long time Terran residents, would certainly miss the traditions as well. As I recall, the time-honored Christmas holiday started in ancient times with the birth of the child of the Supreme Guardian of the Universe, and the gifts he was given by both Kings and shepherds, even though he was born in a stable. Likewise, both Kwanzaa and Hanukkah have giving tied in with their origins."

"Maybe we could create that kind of atmosphere in the Castle to help cheer them up!" Allura suggested excitedly. "They have done so much for us, and it would definitely be in the spirit of the season for both our worlds to arrange a celebration for them."

"I think that's an excellent idea!" Coran responded warmly. "We'd have to do a little research so we get it right, of course, but I am sure we could do it all within the next week!" He rose and circled around his desk to grab a small laptop processor, then returned and reseated himself.

"We haven't much time, so we must be organized to a fault. Allura, you must decide on the traditions you feel would be most appropriate, and I will then arrange with the staff for your wishes to be carried out. Do you have any idea right now of what you might like to do?"

"Well, for one thing, we will need to have a big dinner, that's a given," the Princess mused. "From what I can deduce, every Terran holiday seems to have food as its centerpiece."

"All right, of course I will speak to Nanny about the menu." Her Advisor replied, adding the notation to his laptop's file.

"I think there should be a gift giving session, and games!" Allura went on, warming to the subject." We will need a horizontal candle stick that can hold several candles at once, and a cut evergreen tree. You can select a suitable room for it to be in, and oh yes, we will need some decorations to hang on the tree, too."

Coran keyed away, with an intent expression.

"I am sure there will be other traditional details that I can add, but I really need to read up on them," The Princess concluded, her brow furrowing as she tried in vain to recall other facts about Terran holidays.

"Well, this is a good start. I will contact Nanny, so why don't you run to the library and look up the rest?" Her Advisor suggested.

Allura smiled. "I will, right this minute. Thank you Coran, I feel so much better, and I know the boys will too, once we surprise them!"

"I hope so."

The Princess vacated her chair and practically skipped to the door and then turned and presented her Royal Advisor with a joyful countenance as the panel slid open. She then waltzed into the corridor, and disappeared around the corner, her giggle of excitement providing a last, lingering reminder of her presence.

Coran smiled fondly as he pressed the switch to close the door. Allura really was an enigma to him sometimes, with her delightful blend of childish enthusiasm and womanly concerns. But then, the workings of the female mind had always been mysterious to him. Maybe that was why he preferred the Whodunit genre, at least he had a chance of guessing what would happen next.

He heaved a sigh, realizing that, once again, his afternoon of reading and relaxing was not to be. Strangely enough, he didn't mind as much as he might've a few minutes earlier. Perhaps the spirit of giving was contagious, as Terrans always said.

Ensconced in his quarters for the last three hours, Keith finally threw down the reports he had been reading, with a groan of disgust. Pressing against the straight back of his chair, he raised his muscular arms into the air in a deliberate stretch, and then lowered them to rest on the cluttered desktop in front of him.

The faint glow from his computer was the only illumination in the darkened room. He had drawn the draperies in an effort to concentrate on his task, instead of on the glorious snow that was falling outside his window. It hadn't helped much. He ached to be out in the white stuff, a potent reminder of his childhood home in Alaska.

His dark brown eyes, slightly bloodshot from staring at his PC, bitterly surveyed the stack of Garrison folders he had yet to peruse, and he experienced a brief but very strong impulse to sweep the papers into the wastebasket located next to his work area.

~I am so tired of this endless red tape and ridiculous bean counting,~ He thought grumpily. ~Why the heck does Galaxy Garrison even need to know things like how many rolls of toilet paper we use in a month, or how many pairs of underwear we would go through in a year? What a joke!~

It was with relief bordering on giddiness that he heard the door summons chime. In an instant he was out of his chair and triggering the opening mechanism.

The sheet of metal slid back to reveal the disgruntled features of Lance, clad in sweats that used to be blue, but now were a strange shade of lavender, thanks to a laundering mishap.

"Hey, Lance."

"Hey Keith."

The Red Lion pilot shouldered past his leader and threw himself and his gym bag across the immaculate, rumple-free coverlet on the bed. He raised his head just long enough to turn down the sheet covering the single pillow, and then buried his face in the downy cushion with a long sigh.

"Come in, make yourself at home," Keith said, dryly. He didn't bother to close the door, but walked over and sat down at the desk once more, determined to finish his work, but somehow knowing that Lance wouldn't let him.

The thought made him smile for the first time that day. For once, he wanted- no needed to be distracted by Lance's acerbic wit.

However, no repartee was forthcoming from his bed. He waited for a few minutes, certain that his irrepressible friend would eventually have something to say.

Nothing happened.

After ten minutes had ticked away, he could stand it no longer. "Do you have a reason for being here? If you're just going to nap, you can do that in your own quarters."

Lance's head lifted and his ice blue eyes glared at the Captain. "I'm not napping, I'm meditating."

"Well, try not to snore while you meditate, I'm trying to get these reports done." Keith retorted. He shot a hopeful glance over his shoulder. Surely now Lance would rip into him, since his best friend always hated what he termed Captain Anal's 'closed sphincter' tone. He turned and looked down at his papers once more to hide the wicked smile playing around his lips, and waited for the first missile to be launched.

"Whatever," was the bland response he got.

The Captain's head whirled around once more to see his second-in-command bury his face once again in the combed cotton pillowcase. "Okay, now I know something's wrong. Care to share?"

"No, not really," came the muffled reply.

Keith, his ire rising, kicked back his chair and stood up. "Now look, I'm bummed out enough the way it is, so I didn't need you and your moods infiltrating my territory. Either fess up, entertain me, or get the he-"

"Hey guys!" Hunk's gravely voice boomed from the doorway. The big man took in the sight of the glowering Black Lion pilot and the apathetic form of the Red Lion pilot and shook his head sadly. "Looks like you two have got 'the grinchies', same as me. Care to join me for a piece of depression-curing cheesecake?"

Lance slowly rolled to one side and then sat up. "What kind?"

"Raspberry ripple with chocolate sauce." Hunk informed him gravely.

"I'm in."

They both looked inquiringly at Keith.

"Oh, what the heck, yeah, I'm in! Let me log off and let's go!"

"All right, Chief, that's the spirit!"

Minutes later the three pilots were sitting on a row of barstools at a cleared off kitchen counter. Huge helpings of the coveted dessert they had managed to wheedle out of a reluctant Nanny were sitting in front of them and silence prevailed as they savored the rich flavor of raspberry and chocolate.

Finally Keith spoke up, turning to the big man on his right. "So what are 'the grinchies' Hunk?"

"Hm. Well, it's a term I came up with, based on a children's book character in the Dr. Seuss series."

"The Grinch Who Stole Christmas?" Lance asked, while snagging another chunk of chocolate from his plate. "I know about that one. It's a classic."

Keith just nodded in agreement, since his mouth was full of raspberry filling.

"Yeah, it is. So, if you both know the story, then you can probably figure out that having 'the grinchies' means you're not in good form; you're grumpy, bored, angry or whatever. Basically it just means you have no holiday spirit."

"That definitely applies to me," Lance muttered.

"Me too." Keith added somberly after washing down his cheesecake with a huge swig of coffee. "Though I have to say in our defense, that it's hard to get in a festive mood when you're residing on an alien planet with totally different customs from your own."

"Plus never knowing when the next battle will have to be fought. " The Red Lion pilot added glumly.

"But knowing all too well that your family is all together right now, except for you, in another galaxy, far, far away." Hunk grumbled.

The conversation dried up, as the three friends surveyed the remainder of their dessert with sudden disinterest.

A boyish voice cheerfully cut through the gloom that surrounded them.

"Hey guys, did you save some for me? Gee, I'm hungry!" Pidge joined them at the counter, wearing a bright smile, which dimmed a little, as he surveyed the downcast faces of his teammates. "What's got you guys in a funk?"

A round of shrugs was his response.

"C'mon, it's snowing outside, and it's December, the month of good cheer! Lighten up!" The Green Lion pilot coaxed them, as he sliced a huge wedge of cheesecake from the half empty pan in front of him.

"Oh look, it's little Pidgey Lou-Who, come to give us an attitude adjustment." Lance smirked, as he stabbed at his dessert with his fork.

Keith gave a snort of amusement.

Hunk chuckled. "Good one."

Pidge tucked into his cheesecake with gusto, not letting the sour mood of the others ruin his enjoyment of the treat.

Keith said kindly, "Don't mind us, we're just kind of down in the dumps right now, being away from family with it being the holidays and all."

The Green Lion pilot put down his fork, straightened, and pushed his glasses back into place with a blunt forefinger, He stared soberly at the sulking trio. "I don't even know where my family is, but I do know that if I can't be with them, I am happy to be with friends like you and the Princess."

"Oh jeez," Hunk groaned, passing a hand over his eyes, as they started to water. He reached around Keith to tousle his little friend's unruly hair. "Thanks, Pidge, I needed some perspective."

"Yeah, you've a got a good point, we should be thankful for what we do have." Lance agreed.

"Why don't we go outside for awhile and check out the snow?" Hunk suggested. "Fresh air will do us some good, and maybe Princess would like to come with us."

Lance grinned. "Now that's the best idea I've heard for days."

Hunk laughed. "Which one, the snow, or getting the Princess?"

"Both!" Pidge happily interjected. "How about you Chief? Do you want to ask her?"

Keith deliberately speared another clump of cheesecake as he searched for a suitable answer. He could feel the heat rising up his neck at the thought of spending some recreational time with Allura.

"If you don't want to perform that tedious duty, I'd be more than happy to have you delegate it to me," Lance told his friend, and grinned wickedly.

"No, I'll do it, but only as a favor to you guys; since it will give you an excuse to goof off even more than you already do," The Captain retorted. He might have convinced them of his indifference, except for the twin spots of color now glowing upon his cheeks.

No one commented, but meaningful glances were exchanged among the other three pilots.

"Speaking of family, I almost feel that Allura is part of mine." Pidge remarked softly.

"Me too," Hunk agreed, as a warm smile lighted up his rugged features. "Hey little buddy, if you're done eatin' why don't you and I see if we can't scare up some sleds?"

"Sure thing!" The two friends left without further ado, intent on their mission to fuel 'Operation Fun.'

"What about you Keith? I think you'd make a great Big Brother," Lance needled his blushing friend when they were alone.

"Two sisters is enough for anyone, I prefer to think of Princess as my friend," The Captain replied briefly. "How about you?"

The Red Lion pilot chuckled. "I definitely don't have brotherly feelings toward her. Too bad there's not some mistletoe around this place, it would be a great excuse to teach her about one of the better Earth traditions."

Keith stood, rather abruptly. "I think I'll go find her now, there aren't many hours of daylight left. I'll help you clean up this mess, and then you'd better get going. We'll meet you at the front gate."

"Check, Chief!" Lance, now straight-faced, gave him a mocking half salute.

He only allowed himself a small grin, when the Captain turned his back to stack the plates. Maybe it was time his bashful friend got a shove in the right direction, and what better time to do it than in the Season of Love?

Behind the pantry door, Nanny smiled as she watched the Commander and second-in-command of the Voltron Force, bus dishes. It was awkward for her to listen in on their private conversation, but she was glad she had, even though she had had to restrain herself from rushing out and boxing that Lance's ears when he spoke of the Princess with such brashness. Thank goodness Captain Keith was there to keep that randy one in line. She sighed, and slowly relaxed as the two men finally vacated the premises, leaving no sign of their afternoon snack behind.

She moved into the room and sat on a stool, and indulged in a moment of rare introspection.

They were good boys, really, for all that she railed against their Terran ways, and their talk of family had gone straight to her motherly heart. She wondered what she could do to lighten their spirits. Maybe Allura would have some ideas.

The intercom on the wall buzzed and she rose to answer.

"Nanny, I am so glad I caught you. Would you be able to come to my study? I have something of great importance to discuss with you."

"Of course, I will come at once, Master Coran," she replied, already whipping off her apron.

"Thank you Hannah- Coran out."

~Now what is this all about? He almost sounds-excited?~ The Royal Governess wondered. ~I guess I shall find out soon enough. Better get going, Hannah, your bones legs aren't as speedy as they used to be!~

In a few minutes, Hannah left the kitchen, armed with a plate of cheesecake for her old friend, and a curious sense of anticipation.

To be continued... Ho, Ho, Ho!