Thread by @boredsincebirth

Here lies a thread of my completely self indulgent #sheith A Knight's Tale au

When Shiro was a child, his homeland was invaded by the Galran empire; he lost everything - his family, their land, a place to call home. He became an orphan, forced to beg his nation's conquers-

for food. He doesn't remember very much of that time, only that he was cold, hungry, and alone. His life wasn't the only one in shambles after war, there were so many others just like him. He always spoke to his family about his dreams - he wanted to go beyond the boundaries-

of their small village, he was going to go to the other side of the great mountains, fight mythical beasts, and discover treasures and adventures worthy of song.

And then he became an orphan. He couldn't protect his loved ones or himself, who was he to think he could take on-

the world?

Shiro's dreams changed. He wanted hot food, a warm bed, and to be held by someone who loved him. This was his dream not only for himself, but for everyone. Having a place to call home was so important, this was his dream for everyone, and even starving and alone, -

his thirst for adventure was overcome by an urge to protect others.

Shiro started becoming very sick, very quickly. He didn't know where to go. As he made his way through the remains of the village, he pretended he didn't know exactly where he was. His village wasn't scorched,-

his village had many more houses, his village always had people and life in its streets.

Shiro was stumbling. As much as he tried to trick his child mind, the bruises and scrapes he'd gotten as reward for mouthing off at the Galran soldiers occupying what remained of the area-

were active reminders that Shiro was no protector. He was no accomplished adventurer, he was no force for Good.

He was no Knight.

( time skip)

Shiro lowered the covering on Sir Ector’s helmet - his helmet - and let his vision adjust to seeing only through the opening slit just in front of his eyes. His world narrowed down to only what he could see in front of him. He couldn’t see his friends talking but-

he could hear them even through the metal surrounding his ears.
    “We haven’t eaten in three days! You of all people should care about that!”
    “Of course I care, Lance! It’s just hard to be hungry when we’re moments away from being arrested!”
“Hunk, buddy, we’re-

not going to be arrested. It’s Shiro, he’s got this!”
Shiro always did appreciate Lance's support. He used it to refocus his nerves.
“But that’s just it, it’s Shiro. Not ‘Sir Shiro’ or ‘Lord Shiro’ - and definitely not Sir Ector!”
Shiro usually appreciated Hunk's judgements-

as well, but now was not a good time to heed the call of certain parts of reality.
Shiro swiveled his head until the metal opening revealed his friends. “Hunk, keep your voice down.”
    “Yeah, keep your voice down, Hunk!”
    Shiro ignored Lance. “There’s nothing to worry-

about. I’ve tilted against Sir Ector more than any of us.”
    “You mean you were his target practice!” Hunk countered, “winning a match is completely different.”
    “He doesn’t even have to win!” said Lance, "it’s two lances to none, he just has to stay on the horse.-

That should be easy enough, right?” He turned to Shiro, “Right?”
    Shiro nodded, “I’m pretty sure that’s why I was usually target practice.” He gestured to the horse in question. “Now, if you guys help me get on the horse, I can worry about not falling off."
Hunk and Lance-

boosted him into the saddle. Too late to turn back now. He clicked the horse in the direction of the jousting arena.
    Hunk groaned, “Oh god...I think I’m gonna be sick.”
    Lance spoke across the horse’s neck, "We either do this or we starve, those are the options.” -

Hunk was less than reassured. “Do you think they’ll feed us in prison?”
    The sounds of the crowd in the arena and the horns introducing the entrance of his opponent rang through Shiro’s ears, drowning out the back-and-forth of his friends. This was real. He was going-

to wield a lance, and joust not as a squire, but as a knight, fulfilling his lifelong dream. He wished it was under better, less gruesome circumstances, but in order to feed his friends and his own empty stomach, he accepted the opportunity as it arose.

(ok I think that's all for now! I've got to go eat lunch and I don't want to flood too much at once. I will continue with more tomorrow! Feedback is welcomed and appreciated as well 💛)

The trio stopped on their side of the field and the horns announced their arrival.
Shiro took a deep breath, letting out his nerves and drawing in excitement from the air around him. The crowd was cheering for Sir Ector, he knew, but their enjoyment of the joust was contagious-

if not instantly addicting.

He let out a sound of disbelief, and then brought himself up in determination, “I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”

Lance looked up at him, “You waited your whole life for Sir Ector to shit himself to death just before the last round of-

a tournament so you could impersonate him out of desperation?” He punctuated his statement with a low whistle.

The horns cut off and the knight marshal stepped forward. “The field stands at two lances to none, in favor of Sir Ector.” He gestured, and the crowd applauded once-

He spoke to Shiro’s opponent, “Are you ready?” The other knight lifted his lance.

“Here goes nothing,” Hunk steeled himself and held out the lance for Shiro to grasp.

“Sir Ector, are you ready?”

Shiro lifted his lance in a hail.

And then, the flag dropped. -

Shiro barely remembered to kick forward his horse, Lance and Hunk shouting to urge him forward. The momentum of the horse gunning forward down the tilt jostled his arm, loaded with the weight of a true lance and not a practice frangible, and brought the lance down and over-

the horse's neck. It bobbed with the strides of the horse, and he was getting closer and closer to the midline where he and the other knight would inevitably clash. Distantly, he heard Lance and Hunk shouting at him over the din of hoofbeats and his own heart in his ears.-

“/Get it in the cradle!/”

Shiro glanced to his arm, his eyes tracing down the length of the lance that ended far to the right of him. He looked up at his opponent, meeting his helm-covered face, drew his elbow in tight to his side, and gripped the lance firmly. The coronel-

snapped to the left, aimed directly at the other knight’s chest.

The horses neared each other, Shiro saw the glint of the sun shining off the other’s armor, he didn’t dare blink--

It was over in an instant, the shock of impact thrumming through his arm and all down his body the only indication that he hit his target. He saw the blue sky through his visor and his thoughts filled with panic. Had he...fallen off the horse?

Above the crowd, he heard Hunk’s deep laughter and Lance’s shouts.
    “We won! I can’t believe it, we won!”
    Shiro drew himself back up and, dared to check where he was. He saw the horse’s neck from above, his own legs stretched over the body of the saddle.

/Holy shit./-

The horse was circling, the movement its own small, dizzying victory lap. Shiro felt lightheaded and struggled to stay upright.

Lance and Hunk raced towards him from across the tilt yard, sheer joy on their faces.

Lance grabbed the reins from him, “Shiro, you did it!"-

“Thank each and every god, we did it!” Hunk swept Lance up in an embrace, managing to lift him off his feet.

Shiro shook his head, which helped nothing. “Uhh...what did I do?” He started falling sideways.

His friends caught him, turning his fall into a less than graceful-

dismount. Hands grabbed his shoulders, steadying him.

“You won the joust and saved us all!" Hunk swept him into a hug as well, almost in tears.

"You also took a blow to the head,” said Lance.

The other two squires set Shiro up against the horse's heaving sides to let him-

catch his breath. His head was pounding, the moisture from his breath cloying inside his helmet. He tipped his head back, the blue sky filling his vision once more.

He'd just won a joust.

He laughed, the helmet stuck to his head gave him room for his own private victory, and the sound rang in his ears.

He sent a thought up to the heavens.

'You proud of me up there?'