Kingdom of Heaven- Fic
Title: The End of Everything
Author: xzombiexkittenx
Pairing: Baldwin/Tiberias
Rating: PG
Summary: The year is 1185. Time is up.
Tiberias knows his place, better than most people. He looks in the mirror these days and sees a man growing older, too soon, too fast. He feels the weight of the sins, and the sins, and the sins that mount up one upon the other in this holiest of holies. For all that, he knows what must be done, and how best to do it. No matter how bitter the taste in his mouth, no matter the ashes smeared on the heads of the women who mourn for men who will never come home, for land that everyone wants yet none can truly claim. Tiberias will stand by what he believes in.
He serves the King. He serves Jerusalem.
But, more importantly, he serves the man.
He believes in Baldwin, more than he has believed in any other man, and that belief has been tested, as hard and as painfully as his faith ever was. Of the two, only his King has prevailed. Baldwin is only four and twenty, but as Tiberias stands before him, he knows, as surely as he knows his place, and as surely as he knows his faith now lies in this damaged body, that Baldwin is dying.
The King might be smiling at him through that mask, might be scowling, but since Tiberias has long since learned better than to guess, he waits.
Baldwin sighs and waves the servant girls out of the room. “We have little time,” he says, low and urgent, but deeply tired at the same time. “I have little time.” The silver mask inclines slightly to one side. “Truth, for all that it has been said for so long.” Tiberias could hear the sardonic tone to Baldwin’s voice this time.
“My King,” and his mouth dried up until the words stuck in his throat and he couldn’t find another thing to say. Tiberias found himself standing next to the chair before he could remember moving at all. That silver mask just tipped up, white silks whispering against one another in the silence. He could see the red rimmed eyes, staring coolly at him, patient and steady.
“I shall miss you, Tiberias,” Baldwin said, one hand reaching out to brush white gloves over a dusty tunic. “Of all those I will bid farewell to…” The shape of flesh under the gloves felt wrong when Baldwin grasped Tiberias’ hand lightly. “You remind me why we struggle onwards, no matter the cost.”
Tiberias dropped to one knee and pressed a kiss to the gnarled fingers. “You must persevere,” he finds himself saying, feeling as mad as the beggars who roam the streets of even this city, clutching Baldwin’s hand. “Jerusalem needs you yet.”
Baldwin sighs through the mask, sparse lashes closing over bloodshot eyes. “You have good men at your side, keep Balian with you, he knows the path of right and he will follow it, but he needs you.” Then his eyes open once more, and the hand that Tiberias isn’t clinging to, rises to stroke through short, graying hair. “Jerusalem needs good men, just as I have needed you, the best of all men.”
There is too much in the air between them; Position, age, armor, silks as thick as steel, bandages and disease. Always the disease. Tiberias let go of Baldwin’s hand, and in that moment he knew defeat. Slowly, painfully, Baldwin slid out of the chair and knelt next to Tiberias. He leaned in and pressed cold silver to Tiberias’ lips.
They rode out the next day.
Author: xzombiexkittenx
Pairing: Baldwin/Tiberias
Rating: PG
Summary: The year is 1185. Time is up.
Tiberias knows his place, better than most people. He looks in the mirror these days and sees a man growing older, too soon, too fast. He feels the weight of the sins, and the sins, and the sins that mount up one upon the other in this holiest of holies. For all that, he knows what must be done, and how best to do it. No matter how bitter the taste in his mouth, no matter the ashes smeared on the heads of the women who mourn for men who will never come home, for land that everyone wants yet none can truly claim. Tiberias will stand by what he believes in.
He serves the King. He serves Jerusalem.
But, more importantly, he serves the man.
He believes in Baldwin, more than he has believed in any other man, and that belief has been tested, as hard and as painfully as his faith ever was. Of the two, only his King has prevailed. Baldwin is only four and twenty, but as Tiberias stands before him, he knows, as surely as he knows his place, and as surely as he knows his faith now lies in this damaged body, that Baldwin is dying.
The King might be smiling at him through that mask, might be scowling, but since Tiberias has long since learned better than to guess, he waits.
Baldwin sighs and waves the servant girls out of the room. “We have little time,” he says, low and urgent, but deeply tired at the same time. “I have little time.” The silver mask inclines slightly to one side. “Truth, for all that it has been said for so long.” Tiberias could hear the sardonic tone to Baldwin’s voice this time.
“My King,” and his mouth dried up until the words stuck in his throat and he couldn’t find another thing to say. Tiberias found himself standing next to the chair before he could remember moving at all. That silver mask just tipped up, white silks whispering against one another in the silence. He could see the red rimmed eyes, staring coolly at him, patient and steady.
“I shall miss you, Tiberias,” Baldwin said, one hand reaching out to brush white gloves over a dusty tunic. “Of all those I will bid farewell to…” The shape of flesh under the gloves felt wrong when Baldwin grasped Tiberias’ hand lightly. “You remind me why we struggle onwards, no matter the cost.”
Tiberias dropped to one knee and pressed a kiss to the gnarled fingers. “You must persevere,” he finds himself saying, feeling as mad as the beggars who roam the streets of even this city, clutching Baldwin’s hand. “Jerusalem needs you yet.”
Baldwin sighs through the mask, sparse lashes closing over bloodshot eyes. “You have good men at your side, keep Balian with you, he knows the path of right and he will follow it, but he needs you.” Then his eyes open once more, and the hand that Tiberias isn’t clinging to, rises to stroke through short, graying hair. “Jerusalem needs good men, just as I have needed you, the best of all men.”
There is too much in the air between them; Position, age, armor, silks as thick as steel, bandages and disease. Always the disease. Tiberias let go of Baldwin’s hand, and in that moment he knew defeat. Slowly, painfully, Baldwin slid out of the chair and knelt next to Tiberias. He leaned in and pressed cold silver to Tiberias’ lips.
They rode out the next day.