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Two Crowns and a Gold Cup

Chapter 2: THRONE

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Lance hated Keith.

In fact, Lance wouldn’t mind pushing Keith into a bucket of tar. Or stabbing him with a sword. Feeding him to a dragon? Watching him fall off the castle? All these options worked, Lance wouldn’t mind any of them one bit. Unfortunately, Lance could only fantasize so much about his future husband and his demise.

Instead, he was stuck sitting on the throne, hand interlaced with his ‘lover’s’ across the space between the two royal seats. The courtroom was full of townspeople who had come from both factions of living, Dibazaal and Altea. While the two men currently sat in the Altean castle, they had their own castle being built across the chasm between the two towns, to represent the unity. Lance had seen some plans for the building, they had been working on it for the past thirteen years. He would hope he could see it soon but unfortunately, that privilege was being kept for marriage- a gift from the townspeople and from his parents and Keith’s.

He feels Keith’s grip tighten around his own fingers and his eyes flicker over to the other man beside him. It felt like the surface of the sun inside the throne room and the servants beside the seats fanning them wasn’t helping much at all. It didn’t help that the layers and layers of clothing both men wore weighed more than the two of them combined. Lance could never remember exactly what he was wearing- breeches and undergarments, layers of velvet and silk between those, a corset that was done up too tight, and a few more extra layers of tunics and cloaks. It was completely insufferable, Lance could hardly breathe.

He could see how Keith was struggling- the man’s entire body was covered in hair along with the layers and layers. He gives a gentle squeeze back in return. He may have hated Keith but god, he could feel what he was suffering. He watches in the corner of his eye as a bead of sweat drips down Keith’s face and he has to release Lance’s hand to wipe it away hastily.

“Your highnesses,” the duke says, pulling Lance’s attention from Keith forward. Today was a special day- they would be discussing which traditions of each township to integrate into their ‘new empire’ system. Lance was excited at least, he had discussed with his parents plenty about what he wanted to integrate. Keith on the other hand- Lance hadn’t gotten a single minute of silence when speaking on the matter; Keith could care less about tradition and integration.

“We have representatives from each of your townships to share more about the traditions and allow discussion. We ask that the discussion remain… Civil,” the duke swallows. Content was found in the throneroom often when it came to discussions between Lance and Keith. While they were supposed to be in love and excited to marry, the conversations were full of barking and ‘half-insults’. 

A special blessing from the witch when she had bestowed the agreement was that the two princes could not speak ill of one another. This made insults and finding loopholes an interesting game that generally amused everyone.

“To begin, we have a Galran representative with our first tradition,” the duke introduces. He steps back and a Galran woman steps forward- Lance had recognized her. She was frequently visiting Keith for important discussions about the Galran empire. Her name was Axca.

“Your majesties,” she hums, giving a courteous bow before stepping forward. “The tradition I have prepared today is the gladiator fighting. While we know the Alteans prefer peace over all, we’d like to propose a uh- non-lethal form of entertainment for the new empire.”

“Continue,” Keith hums, one leg crossing over the other. He seemed interested in this proposal but Lance did not- the idea of gladiator fighting made him sick to his stomach. Sure, the Alteans really focused on pacifism but this was just… Interesting. Fighting for sport? No, thank you.

“No death would occur, it would just be matches in a tournament fashion. It could possibly become an event every year to have a Champion among the town.”

“It’s barbaric,” Lance spits. “Fighting for entertainment. There’s more to life than beating one another senseless.”

Axca flinches at Lance’s tone but sends a sharp look anyway. She gives him a nod and looks back at Keith- his opinion was taken into consideration. It was ultimately Keith’s turn to either agree with Lance and reject the tradition or offer his own opinion and allow a discussion to commence.

“While I understand the Galran people prefer this form of entertainment, I agree with Lance. This would be… An interesting form that wouldn’t capture the eyes of all the townspeople. I feel it might separate us still.”

“Understood, my Lord,” Axca hums, nodding. “Thank you.”

She steps back and the Duke announces another representative, this time from the Altean side. It’s a short man with a big belly and a large smile.

“Good morning, sires. I would like to propose a feast of thanks every year, following traditional Altean formalities.”

“When would this feast occur,” Lance asks. The Alteans had plenty of feasts and events but a specific one for thanks was different.

“Our faction would like the Feast of Thanks to occur around your anniversary, my Prince. After you are united and the kingdom returns to normal, it would allow us a specific time to offer thanks to you and Prince Yor- Prince Keith as well as the witch who helped us.”

Lance offers a glance to Keith, who seems to shrug a little bit.

“We agree to this proposal,” Lance says with a nod. “Thank you. Next?”

This goes on for the entire day, representatives coming from both sides. It’s not quite civil the entire time of course- there’s discourse about the amount of violence and police in the town, how trading and currency will work, what is permitted between the two Princes before and after marriage, plenty. But when they’re finished, they’ve come up with quite a list of integrated laws and traditions to establish the new country.

“You know,” Lance says as he steps in time beside Keith. The two of them were making their way back to Keith’s quarters as he stayed for the night. It was a room he had had for years and years, right beside Lance’s room so they would have more opportunities to bond and become closer before they were to be married.

“You’re not as prudish and irresponsible as I thought,” he hums.

Keith merely scoffs at that. “Why thank you, what a sincere compliment.”

“I mean it,” Lance says, laughing. He tugs his top cloak off, tossing it at a knight as they pass him down the hall, going to undo the latches on the fur under-cloak as well. “You were very well versed during that conference today.”

“And you didn’t sound like a complete dumbass the whole time,” Keith offers, rolling his eyes. Lance makes a sound of indignation to that.

“Are you insinuating that I sounded like a dumbass in the meeting?”

“Obviously,” Keith huffs. He reaches his room and turns to look at Lance with a frown. “Why must you constantly follow me to my room? What happened to, ‘oh Keith, you smell like horse blessings and tar’ or ‘God, I wish I couldn’t see because of you’. You don’t insult me very much anymore.”

“Do you miss it, me making fun of you,” Lance mocks, faking tears. “Oh, poor baby- you must get off on rejection then, huh? Just wait until you become king- my people will loathe you.”

“It would be best to warn you that the same applies with my own people, you ignorant d-d-d-” Keith stops, the insult falling at his feet. It’s not worth teasing the man about his lack of words, the same thing would happen to Lance if he tried. It doesn’t pass that it’s frustrating and embarrassing though.

Lance merely rolls his eyes and lands a nasty wet kiss on Keith’s cheek before grabbing his chin to squish his cheeks together in a patronizing fashion.

“Sleep well, my butternut. The big day approaches.”

Keith growls at the kiss and pulls his face back from the kiss, hissing a bit at him.

“Do not touch me, Lance. You’ll lose your hand next time, I swear of it.”

The bedroom door opens and Keith disappears inside, leaving Lance to turn on his heel and head back to his own room. It was a bit down the hallway but once he was inside, he managed to let out the breath he was holding, shedding the many layers of ‘gown’ around him. It’s all left on the floor and soon, he slips into a nightgown, moving to the bathroom to complete his nightly routine, starting to boil up under his skin a bit again.

 

Totally and completely insufferable.

He was so angry and so calm at once- he hated Keith so much.

Rage was never a word that could really convey how he felt.

Ornery was another way to do it- to channel his rage for his ‘lover’.

No, what did that even mean? To have a lover? To have someone love you unconditionally?

Everyone knew the two didn’t love one another. So why continue to push them closer?

 

Lance sucks in a quick breath and splashes his face with water in the basin below him, leaning over the countertop as he pants. He didn’t get angry like this often, he tried not to at least. It wasn’t fair to himself or his family- it wasn’t even fair to Keith at this point. Why did they have to hate each other? Why did Lance feel so much bitterness toward his betrothed?

Maybe it was because Keith was so much better.

He was strong and powerful, incredibly stoic.

He could command an entire army with the flick of his wrist.

He was feared but respected- people actually liked him.

And Lance? Lance was the prince, funded by Daddy’s money. Lance was only the prince because Allura had refused the crown. He was only the prince because Alfor was growing too old for the throne- because they needed someone to marry into the Galra side. Lance wasn’t important- he was just another body to create unity.

Even then, he felt as if he wasn’t important.

Keith would become the stronger of the two, in charge of diplomacy and battle. Sure, Lance could negotiate and Keith had anger issues within discussion but Keith was still the one truly fit for leadership. Lance would become like his mother, a pet to the royal crown, a pretty thing to look at.

He pitied his mother, even more-so now, knowing that he would become like her. He loved his mother so much but she wasn’t important to the crown or kingdom at all. In fact, his mother was disposable and he knew that. King Alfor would be able to find another queen within hours if he really wanted to. Not just from the town but from any kingdom far and wide- they would send any princess really.

Lance wasn’t built to be disposable.

But he had become so after his destiny was set within Keith’s hands.

Lance looks at himself in the mirror above his basin and frowns- only for a moment. If he was going to be disposable, he might as well make the best of it. He was determined to become close to his lover- he wasn’t going to be disposed of. Lance wanted to be a part of their empire, even if that meant liking Keith, dare he say ‘loving’ Keith.

That is what Lance was going to become.