•Crowns And Arrows• [Klance]

Certain Death Is Postponed Once More

The hunter felt the ground spin around him, or maybe it was his head, still off by the strong way he'd hit the floor with. The rest of his body was still mistreated from the previous fight that afternoon, and he felt his clothes moistening with his own blood. He was disoriented and tired and a blade was swung towards him.

But then someone stopped it and pulled his arm to his shoulder, walked him away. Keith.

Recovering his senses, he was able to look at his face and how paled it was, his lips almost purple, aside from how cold his hands and body felt. He was freezing. The trails of salt hadn't vanished off his cheeks either. Had he been hurt, tortured? How? He'd find out later.

Right now each and every rebel he'd previously knocked out was awakenig again, the ones he hadn't were approaching them and circling them slowly. The horses weren't far, in fact they were right outside the camp, but they wouldn't have time enough to get onto them. He needed a distraction.

And so, his eyes caught the flickering fireplace set not too far from them. Risky, but effective perhaps? He got loose from Keith's grip and and ran to take one of the larger pieces on the side, set it on fire and threw it with all his force to the tall grass close to the tents, and the rebels approaching Keith, who instantly backed away at the barrier of blazing fire as the entire place started to catch fire quick as lightning. Some of them hurried to save things from the tents such weaponry, others hurried to save the horses, leaving only a few trying to stop them from leaving.

Lance whistled again to call for the horses, who approached the place through the only free path that wasn't burning.

It was amazing, how Lance could still think properly, looking like that. Most of his face was obscured by his thieving mask, but the part Keith could see was dripping blood from a nasty cut across his eyebrow. There was something funny about the way he walked which told Keith he had many more injuries hidden beneath that dark cloak.

The Prince didn't have time to think about the whole Lance is the thief thing, but grabbed the reigns of Lance's horse. At that moment, one of the tents caught fire and collapsed with a loud crack.

Keith's horse, Kosmo, was a pure breed. Her blood contained fire and spirit, but she was also incredibly instinctive. Keith loved that about her, it reminded him of himself. But right now, it was really unfortunate.

As soon as the loud noise hit her sensitive ears, she threw her head back, reared on her hind legs and ran off at an incredible speed. Keith felt his hopes crumble at the sight. There was no way they could both escape on Kalts back.
The horse was pulling violently on the reigns in Keith's hand, desperate to join the other horse in running away, and he didn't have the strength to keep her down.

Grabbing Lance tightly around the waist, he started walking, almost running. They couldn't stay here. The blades would stay busy for a while longer with the roaring fire, and he and Lance might get far enough.

Sure, he'd go faster on his own. Lance could barely walk. But he didn't even consider leaving his savior here to die. Because they wóuld kill him if Lance stayed here.

He hoisted Lance a little higher and dragged him on, not feeling their contact at all. His nerves had completely frozen anyway. The wind played humourlessly with his torn shirt, as if it was taunting him.
They would never survive out here, without a tent, without food or water, without heat. But they could at least avoid being killed by the Blades.

It hurt. The prince's strong grip on his bruised waist hurt like hell, and despite restraining himself from whimpering he gave it away from time to time.

The fight was blurry, he wasn't sure if he'd been kicked there or he'd been hit with a rock in the strong currents of the river. He still wondered how he'd survived that. Perhaps the will to see the prince one more time, make sure he was safe, was what kept him from drowning and succumb to the excruciating pain. Yeah, that had to be it.
That, and having a family to return to. A family that would miss him.

Back to the present, he desperately tried to keep up with the prince and stop slowing him down, but it was difficult to raise his feet from the gathering layer of snow, and each step made his body move, and each time hurt.

Every muscle begged him for rest, but this wasn't over, so he kept putting effort on their walk away from the camp, far far away, despite the rising storm of snow made it harder and harder. They would die if they stayed there any longer.

Then, as if the universe had the smallest glimpse of pity for them, Lance caught what looked like a bear's small den. He told the prince to stay there as he inspectioned the barely deep place with bow and arrow in hand. There weren't any pawprints, hair or signals it was being used. It was long abandoned.

He motioned Keith it was all clear and he could enter the tiny cover. It was so small there was only a few inches from their heads, them being kneeled or sitting, but at least it would protect them from the storm.

The low temperature was no different however, and the shivering hunter went out to gather a few things to try and start a little fire.

Keith wanted to sleep so badly, his violent shivering draining the little strength he had left. But he couldn't rest yet. Lance.. There was something wrong with him. He should check his injuries, made sure he was alright.

But not now. It was dark, and he could barely see where he stood, but forced himself up once more and looked around for firewood. If he let Lance do this on his own, the boy's would both die.

His purple fingers had trouble holding his gathered branches, but after half an hour he had enough to built a small fire. But he was also freezing. The thin fabric of his shirt, hanging from him loosely, didn't do anything to protect him against the harsh winds, and he fell to his knees inside their small shelter, unable to keep his eyes open.

No. Keith, make a fire. Do it, or you'll die. Lance will die.

His eyes fluttered open again, not focusing but seeing well enough to construct a small pyramid with the wood. Firestone. He needed firestone. He didn't have any. "Lance?" he said, his voice cracking. "Lance? Fire. Fire." He didn't see the boy. Everything more than five feet away from him was a white blur, and dark spots swarmed his vision. He was gonna pass out. Shit.

Lance was just coming back to the den with basic dry materials when he heard his name. Then he heard it again, in the shape of the weakest, shakiest whimper, which made him hurry inside the den and drop everything.

"Keith?" he asked, his raising worry enough to make him forget about manners and the hundred proper ways he should call him instead of his name. He looked even paler, and his eyelashes and lips had caught frost from the storm. He went out?

He glanced at the firewood he'd set up then back at him. You fool, that was his job. He was supposed to serve him.

He didn't respond right away. He looked like he'd literally frozen. With shaky hands, the brunette set the remaining tinder and kindling, clashed the firestone against each other and provoked a tiny fire. Lance cupped the area and blew it, successfully making it grow after a while. It was warm, but not warm enough, and the prince still wasn't showing signs of activity.

Lance lowered his mask, took off his cloak - which still held the little body warmth of the hunter - and moved outside to shake the snow off before crawling close to the prince and wrapping it around him.

"Keith it's ok, we're ok... Stay with me..." he pleaded once more, raising a shaky hand to his cheek in hopes he'd get a reaction, any, whether good or bad.
"Please..!"