Written for Day 7 of Sheith Month: Royalty.
This was actually inspired by the first story I wrote for Sheith Month . . . which is Perspectives, for Day 13.
Warning: this story made me tear up while I was writing. It is sad (if less so by the end) and includes death, a visit to the afterlife, and some not entirely cursory description of some very serious injuries.
Shiro straightened, expression twisting as the movement jarred the head of the arrow still embedded somewhere just under his ribs but smoothing quickly into a broad smile. The tyrant and his witch lay dead on the field, Shiro's sister's banner was upraised and bright in the light of the sun no longer blocked by noxious magics, their armies raised blades and spears with a triumphant cry!
"Keith!" Shiro called, twisting to look for his knight, with a brief hitch as something deep in his belly screamed with the movement. Then he froze. "Keith!"
Shiro dropped his spear and bolted past his horse straight for the slumped figure in brilliant crimson and violet. He smiled with a bloodied mouth, reaching up for Shiro even before he had reached Keith's side.
"Keith. . ." Shiro dropped to his knees, clasping Keith's outstretched hand.
"Hey. . ." Keith raised his other hand from where it had been resting on Carminnia's bent neck, though his right arm looked broken - nearly crushed - near the elbow. He caressed Shiro's face. "Don't look like that, Highness." he murmured, his eyes clear. "It's all right."
Shiro swallowed hard, eyes straying down to the wicked black blade buried in Keith's body, partially shattered. It was so very much not all right. Shiro didn't think- Even Coran might not be able to heal Keith of this, even if they had been home at the Castle of Lions where the healing rooms were richly steeped with generations of magic held in bright, soothing crystals.
And the Castle of Lions and its legendary power were many leagues away.
"Keith. . . Beloved. . ." Shiro clasped his knight's hand as tightly as he dared.
"It's all right." Keith said again, thumb rubbing over the side of Shiro's hand. "I did my duty. My Prince is safe." His smile softened, another drop of blood oozing down from one corner of his mouth.
Shiro felt sick. "No." he choked out. "Keith, no, that's not- You can't-" He realised he was crying and wasn't sure when the tears had begun to fall.
"Come here, my heart." Keith tugged weakly at his hand, and Shiro bowed nearer immediately, Carminnia swinging her head away as he moved. Keith tipped his jaw up, his right hand curling behind Shiro's neck for support, and kissed him, hard and determined and passionate. Shiro moaned, closing his eyes and leaning into Keith, returning the kiss with every shred of his bleeding heart's devotion.
Keith was panting when he broke the kiss, falling back the slight distance to rest against his horse's side again. She nickered to him, bending her neck to stretch her head close again, lipping his shoulder gently where his armour was broken away.
"It was my choice, Shiro." Keith said softly, squeezing his hand. "Grieve, regret if you must, but never think it was not my choice and would ever have been, to spare you. I could not have gone on knowing that you had taken a blade I could have stopped."
Shiro choked on a rough sob, twining his fingers through Keith's. "Stopped with your-" your life, he thought, but couldn't voice.
Keith squeezed his hand again, taking a laboured breath. "It's all right, my heart. My Prince." he said gently. His face pinched as he shifted slightly, the blade in his body trembling and a fresh gout of blood welling up around where it sank into his flesh. Shiro made a soft sound of protest, and Keith shook his head. "I am sorry to be leaving you, Highness." Keith said with a crooked smile, his stormy eyes dark. "But I would not change my choice, had I the power to wind time back."
His voice was growing fainter, and his words broke Shiro's already cracking heart. He sniffled, catching his breath. "I love you, my beloved champion." he said softly, kissing Keith's bloody lips, then his brow. "I cannot condemn your gallant heart . . . but had I the power I would save you, no matter the price."
Keith gave him an adoring look, but spoke no more, going still.
Allura found him there some time later, curled forwards and holding one of Keith's hands in both of his own as Carminnia nickered in increasingly upset tones, nosing at Keith's shoulder and Shiro's forearm by turns. Shiro, gaze locked on stormy eyes that had faded to a flat steely shade, only barely heard his sister's concerned voice, and refused to release his hold on his lover, though he knew Keith was already gone.
When finally he was half coaxed and half dragged to his feet, Shiro blacked out in the rush of pain flooding from his abdomen. He barely felt that lesser pain beyond the ache in his chest, and the blackness was a welcome reprieve.
Shiro rested a hand on the base of the fine circlet he would be invested with on the morrow, shaking his head slightly. It was hard to believe, after so long, that he would finally be taking his father's place, through all the trials of the civil war the usurper had dragged their people through.
He turned, lips parting to voice his disbelief, then stumbled over his own words. Keith was not there at his shoulder, as he should be - as he always was.
Shiro's heart ripped anew as he looked to the guards flanking the doorway. No one stood at his side, and the faithful shadow of his beloved knight was instead a gaping chasm in Shiro's world. It had been so for many days, through Shiro's long ride back to the Castle of Lions, clinging to Onire's mane as he faded in and out of delirium and pain.
Carminnia had bolted as soon as the body of her knight had been taken away, disappearing into the hills, and Shiro knew in his heart the unruly mare would not return. She had stood for no other's hand and with Keith gone she had no reason to hold the impulses of her wild nature.
Shiro swallowed thickly, eyes falling on the circlet once more, but rather than the crown he saw an endless panoply of the days ahead. Days serving a purpose Shiro had never felt should be his - not with his sister so much more suited, despite her sometimes struggle to restrain herself to diplomacy - with the hole in his heart and the gap at his side where there should be a quick, sharp smile, a steady heart, a strong sword . . . a dauntless, ever-faithful heart.
Shiro fell to his knees with a cry.
When he woke Shiro was in a healing tent, lit with the soft glow of lanterns that allowed healers and nurses to tend their patients but surrounded by the dark of night. He looked to his right, expecting for an instant to see Keith resting in a chair there, by his side, watching over him as his knight always did.
Then reality returned to Shiro with a blow like a warhammer and he gasped, feeling his chest tighten under a heavy weight. He struggled upwards, feeling the physical pain deep inside only distantly, a hot ache like something tearing. How- How could he-
You have a choice.
Shiro coughed as feathers and smoke whirled around him in a dizzying twist, the echoing voice ringing inside his head. A moment later it cleared as though it had never been, feathers and all, and Shiro found himself on his feet in a thick mist, dull green grass under his boots.
"Where-?"
Shiro's own voice sounded strange to his ears. He looked around, and took a few steps, the swirling mist clearing just ahead of him and closing behind. He wasn't sure if he was going anywhere at all, or trapped within some spell.
The sharp cry of a raven made him look up, seeing it wheel overhead, a blade and key grasped in its talons.
Shiro stared, then bowed his head in respect. He looked around with awe and wonder. In the land of death- No. The place between, perhaps. This was not. . .
Not death itself, but the place between, the place where those who were on the verge might meet.
Shiro barely noticed the paths slowly clearing themselves in the grass, spreading from beneath his boots. They wound away in three directions.
"Shiro? Highness?"
Shiro's heart all but stopped as he whirled. The mist thickened, then parted in soft wisps, revealing a slender figure resplendent in dark silver armour and crimson trappings, still wearing the violet of Shiro's personal emblem. Keith looked as impressive and as whole as ever he had in life.
Heart in his throat, Shiro bolted for his lover, and Keith darted closer, meeting him in a fierce embrace and laughing as Shiro took him clear off his feet with his fervour.
"I am here, my heart." Keith said softly, voice rich and sweet as he pressed kisses to Shiro's cheek and temple, arms tight around him in return. "Oh, Shiro. . ." He freed a hand and stroked Shiro's cheek, the touch of his callused fingers familiar and gentle.
"Keith, beloved!" Shiro held his lover to himself desperately even as he let Keith slide down to the ground again, burying his face in Keith's hair. "To see you again. . ." He swallowed hard, trying to restrain a sob.
"My Prince, my heart. . ." Keith crooned, drawing back just enough to kiss him softly. "I had not thought to see you," he admitted, cradling Shiro's jaw, "not so soon. You are well?"
"In the healer's hands . . . there was an arrowhead in my chest, it must have been why I was close enough. . ." Shiro glanced briefly away from Keith and up through the mist, though he knew not where the Shadow Goddess' raven flew now.
Keith pressed their brows together, eyes closed as he breathed in shakily. "I would that I never had to leave you, my heart," he said softly, and Shiro's throat tightened, "but I am glad to have seen you once more." He smiled slightly, drawing back and stroking Shiro's face with both hands. "Never forget I chose this, for you are my only heart, my Prince," he said, "I will wait for you. You will be a good King. Let someone else guard your side, don't keep that place empty for want of me."
Shiro opened his mouth to protest - no one could replace Keith - and he rested light fingertips over Shiro's lips. "They may never be me," Keith's eyes narrowed, "but someone must watch over the King. If I have to find my way back to haunt them for not doing so properly I will be very angry."
Shiro laughed wetly, drawing Keith up into another kiss. "No one could take your place at my shoulder, in my heart, in my life, beloved." he said, shaking his head. "No matter who guards my steps."
Keith caressed his cheek, eyes straying from Shiro's own. He stepped back and Shiro instinctively lunged to grab for him, stricken. Keith clasped one of his hands and kissed it gently. "I must go, my Prince. And so must you. Time in the between is limited . . . and it now ends."
The raven wheeled and swooped low, near Keith's shoulders. He released Shiro's hand, bowed formally, then touched his fingertips to his breastplate over his heart. He extended his hand to Shiro, then backed away, eyes sorrowful before he turned away.
Shiro's heart felt as though it was tearing, going with his champion.
Shiro remembered the voice. He smiled slightly, with only a touch of rueful bewilderment colouring it. There was no choice.
Shiro's feet carried him after his lover in quick strides, the winding black path beneath his boots growing surer and steadier with each step. "Shiro," Keith half-turned, "you- you must go back. You must let me go, this is not the way you must walk-" Shiro muffled him with a kiss.
"I cannot." Shiro confessed as their lips parted once more. "Keith, beloved. . . You call me your heart yet to have you taken is to take the very beat of my own. I cannot go back."
Keith's eyes widened, then softened, a tear gathering in one. Shiro brushed it away with a fingertip and Keith's arms wound around him once more. "I cannot ask it of you again." he breathed in Shiro's ear. "To send you away is to cut out my own heart."
"Yet you thought I could do the same?" Shiro said, free of accusation. He drew back enough to meet Keith's eyes. "I could no more leave you behind than I could cut out my heart and abandon it. Knowing you would await me here is not enough."
The raven called out above their heads, and the flashing silver of the key fell between them, startling Shiro.
"Then I suppose our path is clear." Keith said softly, tightening his embrace on Shiro and then releasing him slowly. The mist curled around them lovingly, and the black path slowly faded backwards along the length of both other ways that had opened and further until there was only the swirling loop on which they stood and the way onwards, into true death.
Shiro smiled at Keith, his beloved knight. "As ever, my path can only include you." he said softly, and Keith returned his fond smile. "I could not hope for anything else."
Keith clasped Shiro's hand, and they walked on into death's arms together.
Sorry - this one made me sad to write, although I am of the generally solid feeling that while it might not be the most desirable outcome (naturally), dying together and staying together forever is a certain kind of happy ending - or at least not a bad ending. If you feel you need a happier royal AU after this, well, I wrote one (my friend M hadn't even read this and needed one) and it is the story for Day 15.
Part of the reason Shiro was close enough to death to even have this visit - and choice - is that no one noticed the injury (caused by a broken-off piece of metal) deep in his stomach, with its much smaller entry wound, only the arrowhead (and other more superficial injuries).
(Carminnia comes from carmine, the shade of red. Naturally. Onire was also loosely taken from onyx.)