Note: This story is a remix of Ardett's fic Hypermnesia on AO3, for the vldfanficremix2017 event on tumblr! It's beautiful. Go read it!
It's been three years since Shiro first saw the sun. It was in the eyes of a taciturn, sullen boy. Harsh, surly, and quick-tempered, Shiro can't wait to see him again.
Three long months have passed since Shiro's last visit to the Land of Flame; three long months of wishing he were there instead of trapped under the Ice Kingdom's pale sky. He's felt so useless here. He understands why Queen Allura and Prince Lance hadn't wanted him to go—he had been ill; and the journey there was arduous, even travelling by snow gryphon; and it was the harsh climate of the Land of Flame that had made him sick in the first place. Still, he hadn't liked it. What good was he as an envoy if he couldn't travel?
But now, finally, Shiro has his chance. Allura and Lance need their envoy to arrange an important summit meeting with the Flame King and Prince.
"You're certain you'll be alright on your own?" Allura asks, absently stroking the black snow gryphon's beak as Shiro prepares the saddle. Allura's silver brows are knotted with concern.
"Of course," Shiro assures his Queen. "I've made the journey dozens of times before, and I'm fully recovered, thanks to Hunk's medicine. Besides, I'll have Black with me." The snow gryphon purrs as he ruffles her sleek feathers. Snow gryphons are the protectors of the Ice Kingdom, and Black is the strongest of them all.
"Alright. Lance and I will see you in a few days," Allura nods. As her head tips forward, light filtering through crystal pillars bounces off her diadem, casting rainbows at their feet. There is beauty to be found in the Ice Kingdom, for sure, but Shiro's ready to face the sun again.
"Be safe, my envoy," Allura says.
Shiro nods and gives her a smile as Black flaps her powerful, crimson-tipped wings. And then he's off, away from the frost and biting cold, southbound to the Land of Flame.
He's excited to be useful again, excited to continue working toward an alliance between the two kingdoms. It's sorely needed; relations are shaky at best.
Three years ago, when the Dark Empire invaded the Ice Kingdom, the Land of Flame stood by and did nothing. Shiro had accompanied Allura and Lance to plead with the Land of Flame for help, but they were refused. The King said it was too risky to take on the Empire. The Flame were complacent as the Empire slaughtered millions of Ice citizens; as they laid waste to the Kingdom; as the Emperor murdered the Ice King, making orphans of Allura and Lance.
Were it not for Keith, Shiro's not sure Allura would ever have been able to forgive the Flame, let alone try to forge an alliance with them. But Allura had witnessed the Flame Prince's anger, the rage boiling in his veins, when his father had refused to help. She had seen the royal blood that dotted the edges of his gilded nails as he clenched his fists in fury, heard the ferocity in his voice when he insisted they send aid. When Keith's words didn't sway his father, he tried to go with them to the Ice Kingdom to fight the Empire himself. Palace guards prevented the Prince from actually leaving, but Allura had seen that at least some in the Land of Flame were willing to stand up and fight for what was right.
Shiro remembers that first visit to the Land of Flame well. His emotions at the time had been so wrong. He should have been upset, appalled, grieving for his country, but instead, his blood had sung with excitement. His heart had caught in his throat, his breath stolen away, and his bones had ignited with something wonderful.
While Allura and Lance haven't been to the Land of Flame since then, Shiro's visited many times, after convincing Allura to let him continue visiting as an envoy to the Ice Kingdom. He's made frustratingly little progress in the past three years, but it hasn't stopped him from trying. He'll do whatever it takes to promote peace between the two nations. (The promise of seeing Keith helps, too.)
Shiro's not sure how this summit will go, and he doesn't particularly want to think about it. He'll deal with it when the time comes. Until then, he'll keep the subject tucked away in the recesses of his mind and let himself enjoy the time he has with Keith.
The sun burns hotter as they fly further and further south. The journey never gets easier. "Just a little further," he reassures Black, stroking her fur as she mewls. The snow gryphon doesn't fare well in the heat—no one from the Ice Kingdom does. Shiro's willing to put up with the harmful rays and scorching temperatures, but it's still far from pleasant.
It's difficult to breathe in the muggy, humid air. Sweat soaks his skin, damp clothes sticking uncomfortably to his body. He's starting to feel the effects of sun sickness, lightheaded and a bit nauseated, but it's nothing like before. He'll endure.
He can't afford to use up the small amount of medicine he has, not yet. It's derived from lilies found only in the Land of Flame. Unable to get past the border guards on foot, Pidge had had to sneak over the border with her snow gryphon to get them. It's just one more reason they need this alliance.
The red and gold sand dunes in the distance begin to blur together. The humidity gets even worse as they fly over the river weaving through the northern half of the kingdom, the lifeblood of the Land of Flame. Shiro's one-handed grip on Black's reins is staring to slip. He trusts Black will keep him safe.
Shiro's absolutely exhausted by the time the glimmering palace comes into view, but a surge of energy courses through him as he spots the Flame Prince perched on the rooftop. He can pass out later.
He nearly falls off the saddle as Black makes a rough landing—she's tired too—but he manages to stay on and retain some modicum of grace, dismounting of his own volition. He leads her to her stall in the open stable, where she sticks out like a sore thumb amidst the crimson desert horses. She's at ease; she's at home here.
"Great job, Black. Thank you," he murmurs, stroking her feathers. She croons.
"Shiro!" His heart leaps at the familiar voice.
Keith runs to him. He's dressed in silks—white, black, and red—and he wears a bright smile. The Flame Prince all but tackles him, throwing his arms around him and enveloping him in warmth. Shiro slides his arm around Keith's shoulders and returns the embrace as best he can.
"Keith," he murmurs. "It's so good to see you."
"Took you long enough," Keith chides, though his voice is fond. "I missed you."
Black bumps Keith with her beak. "I missed both of you," he amends. He pets the huge snow gryphon without a hint of hesitation, eliciting a pleased purr. She adores Keith, and Keith adores her just as much. He handles her with ease, able to fly her like he was born for the skies.
Keith surveys Shiro after giving Black a few scritches. "You look dead on your feet. Let's get inside," he says, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the marble steps of the palace.
Keith takes the next hour to fuss over Shiro, making sure he gets enough to drink and eat. He gives him a chance to wash up, providing him with fine silk clothing so he can get out of his heavy, grimy travel clothes. There's a wrinkle in Keith's brow that doesn't go away until he's sure Shiro's good and comfortable. It's more than a little endearing.
Eventually, Keith leads him up to the rooftop. Shiro sits down on Keith's right, quietly hoping Keith's gold-tipped fingers will find his.
"It's been three months. What took you so long?" The concern in Keith's voice isn't completely unwarranted. The last time Shiro had been away for this long, he'd come back to Keith missing an arm.
"Minor illness. Nothing serious," Shiro assures him.
Keith frowns, seeing through him like always.
"Okay, it wasn't good. But it was nothing like before." Shiro's eyes automatically flicker to where his right arm used to be.
"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Keith says, a quiet intensity in his voice. "It's… hard when you're away. I missed you. A lot."
"Me too," Shiro admits quietly. "More than you know."
Keith reaches for Shiro's hand, just like he'd hoped for. The sun pulses through his veins. Warmth spreads from Shiro's fingertips to light up every nerve in his body.
Keith's dark eyes are fixated on their intertwined hands, studying them intently with that focused gaze of his. His golden fingernails gleam in the sunlight. They've always been gilded, just like his father's. Shiro's nails look bare in comparison.
Evidently, Keith thinks the same. "Shiro… would you let me paint your nails gold?" He says it tentatively, quietly, in a way that tells Shiro it's okay to say no.
Keith knows Shiro's been sensitive about his hands—or lack thereof—ever since the disease that had taken his right arm. Keith was similarly cautious the first time he'd interlaced Shiro's remaining fingers in his after it had happened. But Keith would never hurt him.
"I'd like that," Shiro says with a smile.
Keith's eyes brighten, and he gives his hand a squeeze. He pulls Shiro to his feet and leads him back inside to his room.
Shiro settles down on a heavily embellished settee while Keith goes to retrieve the gold paint. His eyes trace the veins of the marble floor, which lead to a golden crown and royal crest inlaid at the centre of the room. Diamonds set into the marble twinkle. It's more than a little excessive. Shiro is definitely out of place here, with nothing but common blood running through his veins.
Keith returns to him with a small, ornate chest. It's one of the most beautiful objects Shiro's ever seen, covered in gold accents. There are flames carved up the sides, and fish dance around its borders. A flower that looks like a carnation embellishes its centre. Keith opens it up to reveal an equally ornate bottle filled with liquid gold.
Keith applies the aureate paint with intense precision, careful not to leave a single sliver of nail bare. He licks his lips slightly as he concentrates. A blush creeps into Shiro's cheeks, and he needs to focus on something—anything—else.
"Oh, right," he remembers. "I forgot to tell you the reason for my visit in the first place." Everything in his head had scattered the moment he'd laid eyes on Keith.
"You mean it wasn't just to see me?" A smile plays on Keith's lips.
Shiro smiles. If only. "I also need to arrange for an audience. Queen Allura and Prince Lance would like to meet with you and your father."
Keith pauses what he's doing, looking up and raising a dark eyebrow. "I thought they hated it here."
Shiro bites back a grimace. It's true. The climate alone is hard enough to bear. Lance had taken to it especially poorly, complaining the entire time they were here and then some. With the tension between nations on top of that… He hopes Lance will be okay.
"The Ice Kingdom desperately needs an alliance. We're struggling to produce enough food, and our rations are depleted," Shiro tells him. "People are going to starve. Lance and Allura might not love it here, but they'll do what they have to in order to help the kingdom."
"Yeah," Keith nods, going back to painting Shiro's nails. "Well, it'll be a good time for them to come anyway. I'll talk to my father. I'll make sure they have an audience. Go ahead and send the message back to them with Black."
Shiro's silently glad he doesn't have to speak with the King himself. It's still difficult to face him, even though he's been doing this for years, and his requests are often refused. "Thanks, Keith."
"You should get some rest after the gold sets, too," Keith urges. "You look exhausted."
Shiro is tired, but he's suffered worse. He shrugs. "Hold still!" Keith chastises, scowling at him.
Shiro laughs. "Alright, alright." He does as he's told until Keith finishes with his fastidious application of the gold polish.
"There," Keith says, his stubborn frown quickly replaced by a bright smile. He's positively beaming, proud of his handiwork. "It suits you."
Shiro holds his hand out, admiring the way his nails now match Keith's. He almost looks like royalty. "I like it."
"Good," Keith says, standing up. "Okay. I'm gonna go talk to my father. Seriously, go sleep," he commands in that gentle-yet-firm tone he favours.
"As you wish, your highness," Shiro says with a mock bow.
Keith gives him a playful shove, but then his touch turns tender. His fingertips graze Shiro's jawline, tilting his face to look at him. Keith's lips quirk upward into a soft smirk. "See you in the morning."
Shiro's heart stutters, his brain unable to string together a sentence before Keith leaves the room.
Tired as he is, Shiro doubts he'll be able to sleep tonight. Not when his heart is about to supernova and his nerves tingle with the energy of a thousand suns.
If only this could last.
…
Shiro and Keith spend the next day almost entirely on the rooftop, exchanging stories of Ice and Flame.
Keith's never been outside the Land of Flame and is eager to hear about life elsewhere. Shiro does his best to describe every inch of his birthplace to him. It's far from the first time Shiro's told him about it, but Keith never seems to tire of hearing more.
Shiro paints him a mental picture of the glittering skyscrapers that refracted light throughout the capital. He tells him of the massive bridges that arched over chasms and sea ice, connecting cities to one another in a vast web. He tells him of the bright lights that illuminated the streets when the sun set at night. The Ice Kingdom had been beautiful.
Keith's eyes, dark pools of indigo, shine with excitement as he drinks in each detail. They shine with something else when he remembers Shiro speaks in the past tense.
In turn, Keith tells Shiro stories from his childhood. He tells him about sneaking out of the palace to explore the sand dunes in the south, hunting for treasure, and the time he nearly drowned trying to swim up the river to the north. He never really got to spend much time with his father, but he cherishes the few times the King took him up to the rooftop and showed him how to connect the stars.
When night falls, Keith shows Shiro his constellations. The twin fish are his favourite. They trace new ones together: a lion, a seal, a flower, a flame.
(Keith is less than impressed by Shiro's eight-legged bear, but it elicits a laugh, so Shiro's proud of it all the same.)
Shiro falls asleep against Keith's shoulder, and it's the best sleep he's had since the invasion.
Every moment they spend together will make it that much harder when Shiro has to leave, but he can't resist Keith's pull. He will always be in his orbit, tidally locked, forever looking to the sun.
…
Allura and Lance arrive a few days later on the back of the royal blue snow gryphon the two of them share. The half-siblings are arrestingly beautiful, dressed to the nines in silver and cerulean and frost white. Despite their usually regal composure, they wear twin expressions of worry.
Shiro accompanies them in nervous silence to the outdoor conference area. It's spacious and extravagant, just like inside the walls of the palace, all white marble and gold.
"You alright?" Shiro whispers to Allura as they walk in.
"Of course," she says tightly, though her shoulders are noticeably tense.
This can't be easy, to face the Flame King again. Allura's pleas had fallen upon deaf ears three years ago, unable to convince him to help her kingdom, and Allura still blames herself for her failure.
"The Land of Flame needs this alliance too," Shiro reassures her. "It'll be fine. I promise." Her rigid posture relaxes ever so slightly at his words. He counts that as a win.
They take their seats at the large table in the centre. "Lance? How're you holding up?" Shiro asks, nudging the prince.
"Peachy," Lance utters, though he looks like he might be sick.
"You can do this." Shiro gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Lance settles at the touch. "Yeah. Thanks, Shiro."
Good. They'll be alright. Now Shiro just has to make sure he can keep his own composure throughout the meeting.
The sun beats down even hotter overhead when Keith and his father arrive. The two sit down, and the summit begins.
Allura's skill in diplomacy is unparalleled. Shiro will never cease to be impressed. Her voice is calm and controlled when she speaks, perfectly metered, articulate and well spoken. She's able to swallow whatever fear or anger she might be feeling, and instead of getting hung up on what did or didn't happen three years ago, she focuses on the here and now.
Allura says all the right words, masterful in her ability to convey the strength of the Ice Kingdom without denying its ravaged state, extolling the virtues of the Flame Kingdom without being obsequious. She's upfront about how much the Ice Kingdom needs this alliance, but she's profoundly persuasive in explaining how a trade agreement would be just as beneficial to the Land of Flame, if not more.
Among other things, the Ice Kingdom is considerably more advanced than the Land of Flame in terms of medicine and life-saving technology. Shiro knows that if he hadn't had access to those, if he'd been a citizen of the Flame instead of Ice, he'd have lost a lot more than just his arm a year ago. The life expectancy in the Land of Flame is barely half that of the Ice Kingdom, and Shiro's gut twists at the thought of how many deaths could easily have been prevented.
"You make a convincing argument, Queen Allura," the King acknowledges, once she has said her piece. "I am in favour of the idea. But the real question is how can we improve trust and goodwill between our nations? You are as aware as I am that the people of our respective kingdoms will not be so quick to accept an alliance."
Most people in the Ice Kingdom have not forgiven the Land of Flame for denying them assistance as their brethren were slaughtered. In turn, people in the Land of Flame resent the Ice citizens for allowing their sick and injured to die, withholding medical treatments and technology from them as retribution.
Allura straightens her shoulders and makes her proposal.
Shiro knows what she says, but he doesn't listen to the words. He's concentrating too hard on keeping his expression neutral and avoiding eye contact. He can't look at Allura or Lance—they know him too well, they'll see right through him—and he absolutely cannot make eye contact with Keith.
"Wait, what?" Keith interjects loudly, grabbing Shiro's attention.
"Prince Lance is willing to marry into the Land of Flame," Allura repeats. Her voice is gentle and melodious, but each syllable is like salt in his wounds. "A marriage would help to unite our countries."
Shiro bites his tongue as he wills himself not to react. He can't ruin this. They need this alliance.
Lance isn't thrilled about the plan as it is. He'll go along with it because he knows how important this is for both countries, but if Lance knew the extent of Shiro's feelings for Keith, he might reconsider. Lance cares too much about the feelings of others, sometimes too much to make the calls that need to be made.
Shiro's gold-painted nails dig into his palm. Don't react. Don't react. Don't react.
The King's brow lowers, scar crinkling. "Queen Allura. Prince Lance. Have you not heard? My son is already betrothed."
A stinging coldness engulfs Shiro, and he can't help it: he flinches.
Keith is had he never said anything?
Shiro had only just been able to make peace with the idea of Keith marrying someone else because he'd known the union would bring stability to both kingdoms, and he'd known that, despite their conflicting personalities, Lance would treat Keith well. It had hurt, but Shiro had known it was for the best.
Shiro hadn't prepared himself for this. Something awful threatens to creep up his throat, something jealous and bitter that he doesn't know how to push down.
It's not as if Shiro ever thought he actually stood a chance, but every glance, every touch, every time their hands intertwined, it felt like it had meant… something.
"Oh," Lance says weakly, bringing Shiro back to his surroundings. "Okay." The meeting comes to an abrupt end as the Ice Prince's eyes roll back and he collapses.
…
Shiro waits in the foyer of the guest chambers, staring blankly at the wall. He's worried for Lance more than anything, but his other emotions are dangerously close to the surface. He focuses on his breathing, deep and slow.
It's a relief when Allura re-enters the foyer, returning from Lance's room.
"He's alright," Allura reassures him before he opens his mouth to ask. "Sun sickness, but not too severe. I've given him the remainder of the Flame lily medicine Hunk formulated for you. With that, he should be fully recovered in a couple of days."
Shiro smiles slightly. "Glad to hear it."
"It seems Hunk has saved us yet again." Her tone is light, but her shoulders are heavy. Her eyes are troubled as she looks out the window to where the air appears to shimmer above the sea of gold-flecked sand.
"What's on your mind?" Shiro implores. He touches her shoulder, and her expression breaks.
"How could I have asked Lance to go through with such a thing?" she murmurs quietly. "I knew. I knew how harmful the sun was here, and yet I asked him to stay. And you, I've sent you here more times than I can count. You've nearly died twicebecause of it, and I sent you again all the same. What kind of a Queen knowingly sends her loved ones to die?"
"One who knows what's best for her country," Shiro replies gently. "Some risks are worth taking. Lance and I both know that. …And besides, I wanted to keep visiting. I can't speak for Lance, but if I were in his position, I'd have been happy to stay."
Her eyes are wide. "Even with the heat? Even with the radiation?"
He nods. "Even then."
She casts him a grateful look for the reassurance, before her brows furrow slightly in thought. "Hold on a tick. If I'd asked you to marry into the Land of Flame instead of Lance…"
He swallows down the pang in his heart, carefully schooling his features into a neutral expression. He shrugs, casually as he can. "It doesn't matter either way. Keith is already betrothed."
Something must leak through—bitterness in his voice, or hurt in his eyes—because Allura's eyes widen a fraction and her lips part slowly as a light goes on. "Oh. You… Shiro, why did you not say anything before?"
His instinct is to backpedal, to feign ignorance, but he can't lie. Not to Allura. "It wouldn't have made a difference," he says at last. "It's not like it could ever have happened. I'm just an envoy."
She frowns. "You are not just an envoy," she insists. "You are a member of the Court; you are well loved and looked up to by everyone in the Kingdom; and we may not share blood, but you are family all the same."
"Thanks, Allura." The words are kind, and there's comfort to be found in them. But to know that it might have been an option, that maybe if they'd acted sooner…
It's a new sense of loss that fills him.
"I'm sorry," she says, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
He gives her a sad smile. There's nothing to be done about it now.
…
Shiro finds Keith in his usual spot on the roof. He's still drawn to Keith like a moth, even if being around him worsens the ache in his chest. He can't begrudge Keith for this. It's not his fault that Shiro fell for him.
"How's Prince Lance?" Keith asks as soon as he arrives.
"Sun sickness, but it's pretty mild, and we still had some medication leftover. He'll be fine."
Keith frowns. "The sun can make people from the Ice Kingdom sick?"
"You mean it doesn't here?"
"No," Keith shakes his head. His eyes widen. "Wait. There was a heat wave when you last visited. Was that what made you sick?"
Almost certainly, but Shiro's not going to tell him that. And he's definitely not going to tell him it was likely exposure to the sun that cost him his right arm. So he says, "I'm not sure."
Keith sees right through his half-truth. His eyes remain wide, and his jaw goes slightly slack.
"If you haven't seen it before, people in the Land of Flame are probably resistant to the sun's effects. No need to worry," Shiro assures him.
Keith scowls, incredulous. "It's you I'm worried about!"
Shiro lifts the corners of his lips. "I'll be fine. It's worth it, if I get to see you." The words slip out of his mouth before he realizes what he's saying. "—And everything else here. I like it here," he adds, hoping it comes out more smoothly than it sounds in his head. "The sun won't stop me from visiting. I'll definitely come visit for your wedding."
Keith gives him a flat stare. "You have the worst sense of humour."
Shiro tries not to wince. "Sorry, I—I shouldn't have assumed I'd be invited. It's fine, of course—"
"Knock it off, or I'm gonna change my mind."
Shiro narrows his eyes in confusion. "About… the wedding?"
Keith rolls his eyes and reaches for Shiro's hand. "I'm kidding," he says softly. "Nothing could change my mind. But… are you sure?"
He's definitely missing something. "Am I sure…"
"Why did you keep it from Queen Allura and Prince Lance?" Keith asks. His voice is tinged with hurt.
"Keep what from them?" Shiro's completely lost.
"This," Keith says exasperatedly, holding up Shiro's hand. He gestures to his nails. "You know, that we're getting married?"
…What?
Shiro goes silent, in shock.
Keith pales. "…Oh," he breathes. "You didn't—"
"You mean… when you asked to paint my nails gold…" Shiro starts slowly.
"I… I thought you knew," Keith says quietly. "The royal family has gilded nails. When we ask someone to paint their nails gold, we're asking them to marry into the family."
"Oh," is all Shiro can manage to whisper, his brain still trying to process it all.
"I'm sorry I misinterpreted," Keith says softly, not looking at Shiro. His dark eyes shine with sadness. He makes to leave. "I… I should go tell the others I'm not actually—"
Shiro pulls him back and cuts him off with a kiss, raking his newly gold-tipped fingers through Keith's dark hair. His lips are softer than he'd imagined.
Keith's eyes go wide, and Shiro can feel his breath catch. Once Keith realizes what's happening, he smiles against Shiro's lips with all the power of the sun.
"…Just for the sake of clear communication," Shiro says after they break apart, "That was a yes. I want to marry you."
"Good," Keith grins, grasping at Shiro's hand again. Leaning against him, Keith's shoulders shake with laughter. "I can't believe you didn't know. Some envoy you are."
Shiro can't help but laugh with him. "Maybe I'll make a better prince."
He does.