Two Shadows Went, Chapter 30
The second his lover hit the ground, Shiro clawed his way into a run to him. Lance's body dropped hard over the marble and his limbs lost all tension as he let himself just fall.
“Lance!” screaming his name, Shiro slid to his knees at his prince's body.
Gathering the limp boy into his arms, Shiro leaned his head down to press his forehead to Lance’s. His sweet, kind lover--and Shiro had just watched him drop several feet. Pressing a hand to his neck, Shiro was relieved to find a pulse.
Antok approached then, his head bowed as he presented himself respectfully to his Kon.
Clutching Lance close to him, Shiro looked up to Antok.
He’d clearly helped Lance get this far. Kollivan had sent men to the farthest reaches of the palace to find Lance. The only way Lance could have gotten this far is if Antok had defied any Galra to stand in their way.
Was that honorable?
Or was that treason?
Shiro was sure even as a Kon, he knew the difference in himself. Was he about to do something that was honorable or treasonous?
“You will never leave him.” Shiro commanded as he tucked Lance’s head under his chin. His mind made up--it didn’t matter what Antok’s actions had been to the Galra nation--they were loyal, a trait Shiro could use at that moment.
Antok slid to a knee as he gave a nod to the order. “My Kon.” His fist raised over his chest.
Sitting back on the marble, Shiro’s bleeding lover deathly still in his arms--Shiro didn’t feel much like a Kon at that moment.
He felt helpless, cold, and alone.
But Anotk still bowed his head to Shiro in respect.
“He’s all I have left.” Shiro murmured low. “And I can’t stay with him.” Shiro’s gaze flickered to Antok. “You will never leave his side.”
“Your Majesty,” Antok.
“Ever,” Shiro raised his voice. “Not ever.”
Taking a knee before Shiro, Antok bowed his head. “I swear, I will protect him until my very last breath.”
“From all sides,” Shiro directed.
“I will keep him safe from all sides, from any threat,” Anotk parroted.
“No order will ever supersede his safety,” Shiro pressed.
“I will head no order over his safety.” Antok continued.
“You will never leave him.” Shiro nodded reiterating for the third time.
“I will forever remain at his side.” Antok looked up then to Shiro.
Shiro closed his eyes for a moment before he nodded. Reaching out over his still, sweet soulmate, Shiroclasped Antok’s shoulder.
Antok’s arm struck out, clasping Shiro’s in return.
“You have done well,” Shiro commended.
“You are my Kon,” Antok said. “From the moment I pulled your injured body from that Altean ship--I knew. You are our ruler.”
The weight of that--a nation rest over his shoulders--and Shiro physically felt his shoulders drop from the knowledge of it. And the only thing he could do was clutch his lover closer. Shiro gasped for breath.
His chest hurt, as if that massive black claymore of his had been thrust through him.
“My Kon,” Anotk repeated, his hand squeezing Shiro’s shoulder tighter.
Shiro looked down to his small fragile altean prince. “He’s the most valuable thing I have.”
He didn’t receive an answer from Antok.
“I would break worlds for him.” Shiro looked around the room. Was he that desperate? Was he really looking for a way out? He’d always charged full steam ahead--and now he just wanted to take Lance and run? He didn’t run. He was a Kon now.
Antok looked down as well.
“I can’t return with him,” Shiro finally voiced what they both had been speculating.
Antok gave a slight nod.
“Kollivan will demand his death.”
Antok nodded again. “He’s not a lenient man.”
“No.” Shiro huffed. “He’s the best at being ruthless.” He closed his eyes. He needed Kollivan’s support. If he was going to rebuild a civilization he needed a man like that’s support.
Pushing up, Shiro tightened his hold on Lance. But he needed Lance too.
His bones ached for him. His chest felt hollow over the prospect of losing him.
Hesitant, Antok shifted up to stand as well.
Shiro looked out the open bay doors as he hefted Lance closer. The blast of warships against the rising Castle’s shields shimmered like lightning across the sky. The shields would fall soon, Shiro could see it in the way each tile flickered and waivered for a moment.
Pressing a kiss to Lance's soft hair, Shiro shifted his weight to pass Lance off to Antok.
It startled the man when Shiro held his most prized possession out to him.
Antok had to sheathe his jagged Galran blade before carefully he took up Lance’s weight, securing a hold under his neck before he secured Lance against his chest.
He was lingering, Shiro knew it even as he brushed his hand up over Lance’s face and his fingers combed through his soft hair.
“He needs a healing pod.” Shiro’s voice was thick.
Antok gave a nod, but didn’t move away.
“This ship was made for emergencies,” Shior said. “Get him upstairs to one of them.”
Antok seemed to consider but didn’t comment.
“I’ll stop the war ships.” Shiro murmured. He still stayed close, still let his hand rest on Lance’s face.
The massive ship shuddered again as another volley of fire hit the quickly disintegrating shields.