Though Keith appreciated the tight grip, the warmth Lance gave off, he fell asleep with the same hurt expression on his face. Lance was gonna get hurt and it would be his fault. His dream were plagued with the same ideas, though they made less sense, were just carried by that paralysing fear of losing what he'd just found. Of losing Lance.
He groaned in his sleep and clenched his fingers around the boy's shirt, scrunging up his face. He was back in the Castle, the sun bathing the throne room in a golden light through the glass dome in the ceiling. But the gold seemed unnatural, superficial. It wasn't real.
A heavy fabric was weighing him down, and the Prince stumbled a few paces back when he realised what he was wearing. The red and golden patterns marked his wedding clothes. No, not yet. Please, no.
But an invisible force pushed him forward, all the way to the front of the room, through so many people. Their blank faces didn't do anything to stop this, no matter how much he struggled and screamed. Why didn't they help? And there was Lotor, that evil smirk even wider than usual, like it would split his face in two. Please...
But next moment, the ceremony had passed and the officiater, a faceless copy of his father, was binding his and Lotor's hands together with that dreaded sash, symbolic for binding their lives together. No. Where had the weeks gone? He was supposed to have time before the wedding, time to prepare. Where was Lance?
And then it was just him and Lotor, alone in his room. The man tried to kiss him. Hell no, was all Keith thought, and he turned around to run away. The same golden thread emblazened sash closed around his throat from behind. No, he wasn't supposed to die here. Lance and he were gonna get out. Where was Lance?
Keith rolled over in his sleep, off the hunter's chest and moaned into nothingness, his eyes closed tight. He couldn't breath. "Lance," he panted, nearly inaudible. "Lance, please. Please save me." A scream erupted from his throat, clawing wildly at where he felt the fabric around him, preventing him from breathing. "Don't let him.. Lance!"
In the middle of his own dream any trace of paradise vanished, burst by a distressed voice calling his name. Lance shot his eyes open, startled, and his eyes widened at the scene.
By the words that had escaped the prince's mouth he could guess what the nightmare was about and hope for the worst. Oh no.
He sat, hurried to turn him around and lift his upper body in his arms, taking his wrists before he hurt himself.
"Keith," he called loud and firmly. He knew all about nightmares, and knew if he tried to shake him or wake him up in any violent way, it could cause him an emotional shock.
"Keith, listen to me, you're dreaming and it's time to wake up, my love." The prince struggled, tried to push him away, but Lance didn't flinch, no matter how much it hurt to see his scared, pained expression, he continued to hold his shaking body.
"Baby, I'm here, I'm here..." he cooed softly close to him, gently swaying him to calm him down and bring him back to reality in the most soothing way possible.
Keith hit around him with everything he had, desperate to fight Lotor off. But the bloodred sash had soon been replaced with his father's terrifyingly strong hands, lifting him into the air.
"Please," he croaked, tears starting to stain his cheeks. Air, please. He wanted to claw at the thing obstructing his breathing, get it off, but his hands were held down by someone incredibly determined. He was fainting, the bright light of the room fading away before his eyes, all he could see was the disappointment on his father's face, and then... Something else.
His eyes wide open, he saw the ceiling of their little hideout. Keith gasped for breath, slowly coming back to his senses, when he realised he was being held. His eyes found those beautiful, blue ones where worry flowed out of.
The Prince forced his fingers to relax and he slowly let go of Lance's shirt. The sweat, dripping over his back, stuck his sweater to his skin. He felt nauseous. But Lance was here, it was just a dream. Don't be an idiot, you've had bad dreams before.
They weren't often this bad, or this hard to wake up from, though. The knowledge that he finally had something worth protecting made him even more scared of losing everything. And the tears didn't stop flowing from his wide, red eyes.
"I was... You were.. Oh Lance," he cried, falling into the boy's chest and sobbing silently. Later, he would feel embarrassed. But now he just needed the comfort.
Lance hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath and tensing his muscles until his prince woke up, and his own worry slowly flowed out his body with each tear he saw falling from his crystallized indigo eyes. God, he was awake... He sighed deeply and adjusted his embrace on Keith so he'd be resting on his lap, continuing to sway him in his arms gently.
"Shh... It's alright, it's just a bad dream," he murmured calmly, despite being terrified a few seconds ago. Keith could've really hurt himself. "You're alright, we're safe, no one's going to hurt you, darling. I'm here." He let the prince's shaky body calm down in his strong, protective embrace, letting the tears silently soak his shirt so he'd let it all out.
"Breathe," he reminded him almost in a whisper, remembering how he clawed himself with his nails before. "Let it all out."
The feel of Lance's arms around him calmed the Prince like nothing else could have. It was just a dream...
But how was he supposed to forget about his fears when he knew the dream was based on a real event that would happen so soon? He hád to marry Lotor. They would háve to kiss. No matter how much he despised the thought, there was no way to run from it.
Just get through this. Lotor won't want it either, so he'll limit the time you spend together. That was the only thing keeping him together, the knowledge that this was just as terrible for Lotor as it was for him. Well, maybe not exactly as bad. Lotor would be in charge, he would have control.
Keith's sobs slowly faded away, after which he just lay against that strong chest for a while. Lance was here. "I'm sorry for waking you," he whispered, backing off and looking at the ground between them. "I had a nightmare, it was...." Keith sighed. Just let it all out. Lance will understand.
"I was getting married. To Lotor. And I couldn't find you and I couldn't breathe. I died, Lance." The Prince shivered and clenched his hands together. His nails had left angry red scratches on his throat and collarbones, but he hadn't drawn blood. He didn't blame Lance for letting him die in that dream. How could he? It was just... difficult. Stupid nightmares.
The hunter listened carefully, making a small grimace at how terrible the nightmare sounded. If Keith had died In the dream it probably meant he felt a part of him would die when he got married. But why wasn't he there? Keith knew he'd always be there for him, right?
"Well... Dream Lance is an idiot," he said with a half laugh, rubbing his left eye with the base of his hand to get rid of his desire to sleep. "I would never leave you.... And as much as it butts me, I'll be there, at the wedding." It's not like he had a choice in the matter anyway. Royal weddings required the asisstance of all castle members, and that was not negotiable.
"...I may not be able to stop it, but I'm here for you, Keith. And I'll be there as well, supporting you from afar. There won't be a second I'm not by your side, alright? You don't have to be scared," he murmured carefully, raising his hands to gently wipe the tears off the prince's reddish cheeks.
"I'll go visit you that night, and many nights after that. I know... I know what the marriage implies, but that doesn't mean your life stops there, Keith. Nothing prince Lotor or the king does can change that, you own your own destiny. The marriage won't be the end of the world, nor end you. You can't give up like that. Even if I can't reach you, you have to stand up for yourself, and fight. If Lotor tries to do something, you fight, and you run. You hear me?" His tone was firm, yet his touch was caring and his gaze concerned.
"You'll fight to live another day, and it will be like that for some time, maybe months, years... But some day you'll win this fight, and that day you'll be free. It's all a matter of... holding on, alright? You're stronger than that. Plus, you already shut his mouth once at the dinner table, you can do that again," he said with an encouraging smile, remembering how the prince had defended him against Lotor, or at least that's what he'd chosen to believe.
Keith broke. He was emotionally drained, physically exhausted and still shivering from the faded nightmare. For a while, the Prince just lay against Lance's chest, unable to speak or do anything. His mind was spinning. Every single problem dancing before his eyes.
Marry Lotor or die. Suffer or stand up to the king. Leave Lance or endanger his life. Pain or misery. Victory or death. There was no middle way, and every single option was a bad one.
"I don't want to.. I don't want to be a Prince anymore," he cried. "I don't want to marry Lotor. I don't want the pain, or the humiliation, or the heartache. I don't want to fight the rebels, to let my kingdom suffer like my father does. I don't want-" A loud sob broke his words, and he pushed his face deeper into Lance's shirt.
"I don't want any of it, Lance. Any of it." Then he pulled away, searching Lance's eyes in the hope they would bring him back together, make him stop. But they had the exact opposite effect. The deep blue was like an ocean washing over him, taking away the little resistance he had left and stranding him on an island, completely bare and visible.
"When L- Lotor and I get married, he'll be able to.. I don't think he will, but he'll be able to touch me, to force me. And I can't say anything about it." Tears flooded over his cheeks, falling onto his sweater and the blanket beneath them.
"You keep telling me to fight, but how can I, when I have nothing to gain? I don't.. I can't bear him touching me. It feels so cold, Lance," he sobbed, shivering simultaneously for added effect. "I can't- I can't go back there. I can't.. Please..."
The sight in front of Lance hurt him without end. It hurt. It hurt to see his special one like this, it hurt not to be able to do much. He lowkey felt he wasn't enough, he was nothing but a peasant after all, and he consecutively started to doubt if he was the best thing he could offer to the prince.
He wasn't.
But right now, he had nothing, no one left to comfort him, to be there by his side, but him.
"Keith," he called him, slowly embracing him and bringing him close, face to face. "I know... I know you feel helpless and vulnerable, but you're not," he murmured with determination, raising a hand to his cheek as the other held him close by the waist.
"I don't have power, and as much as I'd like to fight all your troubles away, I... I can't, not like this," he said, almost apologising with guilt in his eyes.
"But you can. You're fricking Keith Kogane, you've been fighting your demons all this time without falling apart, without breaking. You're the strongest person I know, Keith, brave with a golden heart, and fire in your eyes. Don't keep quiet with Lotor, 'cause you do have something to gain, something to fight for... There is always something," he said almost in a whisper, pleading those indigo eyes to keep fighting.
"There's us, but most importantly, you. Your future, your life, Keith. You have to fight for you, and nothing else matters... You can't give up, no matter how strong the tide is, no matter the odds. I know... I know you'll be a great king one day, Keith."
He felt his eyes tear up at the sentence. Why? Was it sadness? He'd tried so hard to avoid thinking what would happen after Keith was king that saying it out loud... hurt. He would probably continue his life without him, but that didn't matter right now.
"If there's anyone that can stop your kingdom from suffering, it's you. We're... We're all counting on you." He patiently wiped every tear that fell off his cheek with a small smile.
"You have to fight for a brighter day, you, my strong, fierce prince." He pressed his lips to his forehead before wrapping his arms around him once more, pulling him to his chest to soothe his shaking back.
"...Never let Lotor cross the line with you, alright? Never," he breathed in a lower, darker tone, fearing that if the dick prince ever did something... blood would be spilled, and it would remain on his hands.
"You'll get out of this soon, my love, I promise. Everything will be alright, you'll see... I'm with you. I'll always be. We'll get through this, together," he soothed, holding him close.
"Together," Keith repeated slowly, through the sobs rearing his chest apart. He cried for a long time, there with Lance in the dark. But after a while, his sobs faded away, and even more time later, his breathing steadied. It may have been minutes, it may have been hours. Keith couldn't tell. All he knew was that Lance was still there by the end of it, and so were the millions of issues tearing them apart.
But it was exactly like Lance said, he díd have something to fight for. He could fight for Lance. Even though they couldn't be together now, it was Keith's duty to keep fighting for his spirit, for his life, until they could be. Until he was free.
And even if that day would never come, it was his duty to try, to fight for his people. He might not become a great king, but he could at least do something to relief the suffering of his people. Maybe there would be some way to come to an agreement with the Blades.
The Prince sighed to himself. His father would never agree to that, giving in to the enemy. Lotor might. The tall Prince was smarter in some ways, unburdened by the Daibazaal way of Victory or death. But he would find some way to stab them all in the back, have his own way. That was one of the things Keith feared and respected most about Lotor, his talent for planning, for letting everything fall into place exactly how he wanted it too. Just like in his fighting, the reason Keith had never beaten him. Yet.
Keith nearly felt himself slipping off to sleep again, but stopped just in time. "I won't let him do anything, trust me." A gentle smirk curved his lips. That boy could try to get close, Keith would be glad to show him back to his place, no matter the consequences. He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself awake a little while longer, and backed off to look in Lance's eyes.
"I'll keep fighting," he breathed. "For you. For us. For everyone my bloody family has ever hurt." He closed his eyes for a moment and pressed a sweet kiss to Lance's lips. "As long as you'll fight with me, and after that too. I love you, Lance," he whispered, too tired to stop himself. It was too soon to say such things, he knew that somewhere deep inside. But he just did. He loved Lance with every part of his being.
Lance let the prince cry and cry for minutes, maybe hours, time flies without the sun over you. He felt how his body slowly relaxed, and when he talked again his voice was steady and determined, like the great prince he knew he was inside. A soft smile was placed on the tan boy's lips at his declarations and that sweet kiss... Until he spoke his last words, and his heart stopped.
He didn't just hear what he thought he'd heard. Right? Keith... Loved him? For real? ...It couldn't be. People always used that word unwisely, and in most cases, they didn't mean it. He was a tool, someone basic, with no riches or a perfect future to offer.
How would anyone love him anyway? He was a commoner, and even giving all he had to the prince, he felt he'd never be enough for him. Why would Keith love him? Why did Keih like him in the first place...?
Maybe he didn't know what he was saying anymore, what he truly felt. Anyone who'd just been comforted at night after a breakdown could've said the same thing. He wasn't worthy of loving, and not by such perfect being like Keith. His heart threatened to melt, to believe it, because why would Keith lie? Maybe he was just saying it without a real meaning behind. Lance pursed his lips, feeling conflicted.
"Do you... Do you really... mean it?" he asked in almost a whisper, as if someone truly loving him was as impossible as catching a unicorn. Right now, he was the only emotional support the prince had, it was just natural he felt attached to him, but what about after? What would he do when he didn't need him anymore? Would he throw him away too? He felt his heart sink.
What if he didn't mean it and just said it due to being sleepy? What would happen to his already bruised, toyed, mistreated heart? He wouldn't take it. He wouldn't believe it. He wouldn't fall for it. He'd fallen too hard for Keith to be rejected now.
His gaze fell to the blankets, unconciously frowning at the built up feeling of being stabbed by his love interests year after year. It hurt. "You're tired," he stated, slowly embracing himself. "We should sleep, it's late."
Keith was half asleep by the time Lance spoke again, and didn't quite understand. Maybe he had misheard, or maybe he was already sleeping.
Did he mean it? Of course he meant it. Hadn't he shown that properly? Should he love Lance more? The Prince wasn't sure that was even possible. He loved Lance like nothing he did before. A friend. A savior. A lover.
Keith smiled softly to himself and he lay back down, Lance behind him. Yeah, he loved Lance. He loved him so much. All he wanted was to be close, as close as possible, both physically and emotionally. He yawned widely, not masking it in any way and pulled Lance's arms closer around him, to keep the warmth and feel the hunter's heartbeat against his back. It seemed to be a little elevated, but Keith barely noticed anything anymore. He was just so tired.
Tomorrow would be another day, another time to fight. And fight he would. He'd get back to the castle, deal with whatever his father found a suitable punishment and go on fighting. Marry Lotor. Love Lance. Survive. And with that thought Keith drifted off to sleep, save in his protectors arms and unknowing of the internal battle raging on behind him. Because how could anyone ever believe the Prince didn't love Lance?
The brunette giggled at the prince's adorable yawn and held him close, not really able to feel truly bad when Keith was next to him, seeming calmed down, peaceful, happy. The least thing he could do was try to be happy as well, whether the prince held true feelings for him or not, however he'd decide to leave him in the future.
Because Keith would eventually become a king, and if everything went right, he'd be a single king. He'd be able to make his own rules and marry whoever he desired, but would he truly decide to stick with him that far?
He forced himself to stop thinking about it, fearing the tears from his eyes would spill, and sleep didn't take long to reclaim him once again in a deep slumber. Like one of the previous days, he dreamed he was next to a fireplace in a warm house, sitting on a colorful, round, vibrant carpet.
This time, however, he sat alone, and the blazing fire had never felt this cold.
He truly wished Keith meant it.