You all know that I'm not going to kill off Shiro, but I had wanted to have some bit of dramatic injury in the story to show that even though he's surviving, he's not invincible. I figured that having him loose his prosthetic arm would be the way to go, and since Galra technology couldn't be reverse engineered in such a short time, it made sense to me that Nero would have told the doctors to just use a blood sample to grow Shiro a new flesh and blood arm.

Made another timeline goof that I've gone back and corrected. This chapter is just some light-hearted character interaction before things begin to pick up for the ending.

2/18/19: Rewritten to account for Tactus' presence and the existing changes to the plot.

Chapter 33: The Poet:

Caragmore

Mars

March 1st, 2841

"You guys didn't all have to come at once, you know," Shiro commented sarcastically as nearly the entirety of Darrow's inner circle crowded into his room the following evening. With Roque, Quinn, Victra, Tactus, and Daxo crammed into one tiny room, there wasn't a lot of room for the Black Paladin to maneuver. Darrow was still unconscious recovering from the injuries he sustained facing Karnus the previous week. Mustang was by his bedside, having returned from visiting Kavax in orbit last night along with Daxo. Sevro had left with his father after dinner, likely to discuss the latter's role as leader of the Sons of Ares. Theodora was busy working on measurements and logistics for the Triumph that would be held when the ruling families of the gas giants arrived in two weeks. Orion was overseeing the fleet in orbit, while Ragnar stood guard outside Darrow's door. That left everyone else in the know about Darrow's mission to sit down and discuss what the Reaper's next move would be. Everyone had given Shiro an extra day of peace and quiet while he recovered, but now it was time to get down to business.

"Of course, we did," Roque commented with a chuckle as he reached into his pocket. Shiro hear the now familiar pop of an active jamField and nodded in understanding. It was safe to talk openly.

"So, what now?" he asked. Darrow had admitted after calling for an Iron Rain that he'd primarily been making things up as he went along to sow chaos and weaken Gold's rule. The Sons of Ares hadn't given him specific instructions beyond "win at the Institute" and "obtain command of a fleet". They'd only contacted the Reaper on Luna after the Gala to relay a message about his plans to instigate the war between Augustus and Bellona, but he hadn't heard from them since. Now that they all knew the identity of Ares, that would hopefully change.

"We have two weeks before the Triumph, so provided Darrow is awake by tomorrow, that gives us two weeks to help him figure out what to do next" Victra remarked "Sevro's working on arranging a meeting with his father so we can figure out what comes next. Whatever it is the Sons of Ares want Darrow to accomplish, the war won't end just because we've taken Mars. Octavia will continue to attack as long as she lives."

"Even if we kill her," Daxo added. "Augustus will simply rise up to take her place. And we all know that he will never truly support the reformers. He simply made whatever promises were necessary to gain their support. All we'd accomplish would be trading one tyrant for another with no real change in the hierarchy. If Augustus makes Darrow his heir like the rumors are suggesting, we'll all have to be even more careful to stay alive." Shiro's eyes widened as Daxo's comment started a chain reaction in his mind. I can't believe it, he thought to himself as the epiphany began to take shape. This must be what Ares wanted for Darrow from the beginning. This is how he'll save his people.

"What if that's Ares' plan, though," Shiro suggested. All eyes turned to him, expecting an explanation. After taking a moment to think through all his points, he continued. "Think about it," he went on. "Augustus is going to make Darrow his heir and use him as a Praetor in the armada. Once we defeat the Sovereign, Darrow will be next in line to inherit the empire. All the Sons would need to do is assassinate Augustus a year or two into his reign, pin it on a rival, and Darrow becomes ruler of the entire Society." A stunned silence settled over the room as the five Golds processed the ramifications of what Shiro was suggesting.

"That's…" Roque began, at a loss for words. Shiro knew the poet had accepted the reality of what Darrow's goal was, but he was clearly staggered by the implications of what the Reaper's inner circle was going to have to do to help their friend succeed. Shiro could tell Roque didn't doubt his loyalty or his decision, but realizing just how far things were going to go would take time for the younger man to come to terms with.

"Honestly," Victra chimed in. "Strategically speaking, it's gorydamn brilliant. It positions Darrow to ensure a stable transition to a more equal society instead of violently tearing everything down to remove Gold from power. But even if that is what Sevro's father wants for him, it won't work. The minute the major Gold Houses learn what Darrow really is, they will turn on him and try to take the office of Sovereign for themselves. They'll never accept his authority once they realize he was a Red. It will have to be a "true" Gold for them to accept the dismantling of the hierarchy without resistance. Personally, I'd bet on Mustang. She'll have the support of her father's bannermen, the Reformers in the senate, and Darrow will bring the Sons of Ares to the table. With her in charge, Gold will have no choice but to recognize her authority. The hold outs who refuse will be removed from power and imprisoned."

Shiro was cautious about the idea, knowing that the lowColors would not be satisfied until one of their own was in charge. But he also recognized that Victra had a point. For the transfer of power to be peaceful, it needed to be handled by someone who could command respect from both sides, and Mustang would be able to do just that. Everyone agreed to run the plan by Darrow once the man woke up, and with no further points left to discuss, the group went their separate ways. Roque deactivated the jamField as the Golds filed out of the room, leaving Tactus and Shiro alone in the medical wing of the Augustan estate.

"Are there any empty guestrooms?" Shiro asked as he worked through his arm-strengthening exercises. "I had my fill of hospital rooms while I was with Mustang on Luna."

"I don't know about rooms," Tactus answered. "But my bed's big enough for two." The two men chuckled at that, and Shiro agreed as his lover helped him out of bed. The Black Paladin's legs were still a little stiff after six days of inactivity, so Tactus helped keep him steady as they limped towards the latter's bedroom. While Tactus cleaned up the room, Shiro decided to take a shower. The warm water washing over his skin was comforting after lying in an uncomfortable hospital bed for most of the day.

As he finished drying off, Shiro looked in the mirror and noticed that his natural hair color was starting to show through the gold hair dye. At the sight of his dark hair, tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about how worried his team was back in the past. He'd been trapped in this era for about six months now, and there was still no sign of a way home. He knew thanks to Lorn that he would make it back eventually, but he hadn't had a chance to ask the ex-Rage Knight how long that would take. He could imagine what the rest of the team was going through, but the one he was worried about the most was Keith. He'd seen Keith's trials at the Blade of Marmora's base. Witnessed his friend's fears and seen how much the Red Paladin looked up to him and needed him in his life. He hadn't brought up the subject of Keith leading the team if he died after that, but while they'd talked about it afterwards, he couldn't imagine how terrified Keith was knowing that his greatest fear had been realized.

He wiped his eyes as he finished drying off and got dressed. He wished he could reach back across the flow of time and tell Keith that he was alright, but there was nothing he could do. While he was making a difference in this era helping to bring down Gold, he felt helpless as he waited for his friends to figure out that he was alive and find a way to time travel so he could go home. Once he was in his pajamas he walked out of the extravagantly oversized bathroom into Tactus' bedroom. The man took one look at the remnants of the tears on his face and pulled him in for a hug, pausing only long enough to climb into bed.

Now that they were officially in a relationship, an outside observer would think they'd get right to having sex. But the two of them had that conversation earlier that morning. And after years of being conditioned to see sex as a tool of domination, now that he was in a serious relationship, Tactus wanted to take things slow. And that was fine with Shiro.

The next morning, they joined the other Golds in the Citadel's library where everyone sat around with their breakfast bantering with each other. Everyone smirked in unison as they walked into the room arm in arm. Then things escalated when Daxo told Roque that the poet didn't have what it took to tell jokes.

"What do you mean I can't be funny?" Roque asked, offended.

"Just that," Daxo answered smoothly. "I'm sure you can try, but you're too… scholastic."

"Fine then," Roque retaliated. "Who was the first carpenter?"

"Is this a joke?" Daxo asked. Shiro groaned. I can see where this is going, he thought to himself with a dry chuckle.

"It's intended to be," Roque replied.

"Jesus of Nazareth…?" Daxo guessed. "It is a history joke, yes?"

"Noah?" Pebble offered.

"Jesus of Nazareth?" Roque laughed. "You can do better than that." Shiro bit back a chuckle as he realized the answer.

"If I knew I'd be mocked for guessing," Daxo commented. "I wouldn't have guessed."

"Pax said you were the smart one," Thistle said. "Disappointing, Daxo. Disappointing."

"Well in comparison," Clown began. "He probably…" Pebble smacked him upside the head, cutting him off.

"Don't talk shit about Pax," she snapped. "Big man was a sweetie."

"Does no one care about the answer?" Roque asked melodically. "Fine. Fine. I understand. You all think I'm a bore."

"Eve," Shiro finally blurted out. "It's Eve." Roque grinned, glad that someone had finally gotten the joke.

"Eve?" Daxo asked, confused.

"Because," Roque explained. "She made Adam's banana stand." Everyone moaned, embarrassed by their friend's poor attempt at humor. Quinn was the only one who found her boyfriend's joke even remotely funny.

"Ha," Tactus laughed, not so much at the joke itself so much as the choice of subject matter. "I finally corrupted you. A year together at the academy and you couldn't even listen to my lewd jokes without going as red a Ruster's eyes. Now we've both moved on and you're making… what did they call them on Old Earth? Oh, yes. You're making dick jokes without so much as changing a shade." Shiro chuckled at his boyfriend's amusement, even if Roque's attempt at a sex joke wasn't particularly good. Even Lance could have done better than that, he thought to himself with an internal groan.

"That's just embarrassing," Pebble sighed. At least Daxo seemed to find it funny, if the high-pitched, whining laughter that threatened to deafen Shiro in one ear was any indication.

"I think he broke Daxo," Pebble giggled. Suddenly, Clown perked up.

"Does anyone smell that?" she asked.

"I smell Bacon," Daxo guessed as he bit into a piece.

"I don't think she meant the food, Daxo," Shiro commented dryly.

"No," Clown said. "Smells like a suicidal madman recently risen from the dead after conquering a planet and abandoning his friends to get himself cut to gory ribbons like a slagging fool."

"That's oddly specific," Shiro added with a laugh as Daxo sniffed the air.

"Oh, Darrow dear," Clown called out. "Are you lurking behind the door?" On cue, Darrow stumbled awkwardly into the room, followed closely by Mustang, who everyone could tell had pushed him out of his hiding place.

"You eavesdropping Pixie!" Daxo boomed mirthfully as he glided to his feet and pulled the Reaper into a surprisingly gentle hug. The golden angels on the young Telemanus' head glittered in the morning light streaming through the window. The rest of the group took their turns greeting Darrow with hugs and bantered while Darrow and Mustang gorged themselves on breakfast. It would be another two weeks before preparations for the Triumph were complete, so the ragtag group spent the day on grounds of the estate, whiling away the time playing games and discussing everything from the events of the battle to the coming war.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Shiro informed Darrow and Mustang about the hypothesis that he, Victra, Tactus, Quinn, Roque, and Daxo had developed before he headed off to bed. He was just crossing the entrance hall towards his suite when Sevro came charging in with news from his father that Darrow's contacts in the Sons of Ares had been captured by the Jackal.

Yep. Shiro and the others have figured out the Sons of Ares' plans for Darrow. Things never go according to plan, though, so even if the Triumph goes differently than in canon, the end result will be the same.

Terminology:

Triumph: Victory celebration held after a major military battle.