The Lord and His Vassal

Chapter 1

Heeeeeyy welcome to my book, it probably sucks and probably will suck but whatever I'll try a n y w a y

Here we go!!!

Keith is...well, he's many things. Confused, angry, shocked, but mostly...mostly alone. He's been roaming the streets for what, two weeks? Three? He doesn't care how long, honestly, he just needs a place to stay, food, and ugh, a bath would be lovely right about now.

He needs Shiro, and he has no idea where he is. Shiro mentioned his workplace a while ago, and Keith went there maybe twice, but Keith has always had an awful memory, and all he can remember is the fact that it's a weaponry shop.

Shiro's a peasant, but he acts like a true noble in Keith's opinion. He's strong-willed, decisive, and holds himself high. He's gentle and kind, but stern and calculating when he needs to be. He fought many battles against the Galra Empire after he escaped imprisonment, and still continues the path of a warrior. He makes and sells weapons for nobles--vassals and lords and such-- in return for, not only money, but remembrance for when said nobles are ever looking for soldiers for hire. Because of his extensive knowledge of each and every vassal and lord's true nature(it often comes out when dealing with peasants), he's able to help vassals choose lords and vice versa.

Shiro will know what to do; Keith doesn't even know where to start.

After asking around a bit and getting more than one inquisitive glance, he's eventually led to Shiro's quaint store. When he enters, it's like a breath of fresh air, seeing Shiro's handiwork littering the walls and counters. Keith jumps at the loud 'Just a minute' booming from the back of the room but waits patiently for Shiro to finish...whatever he does.

"Welcome," Shiro bellows, stepping out of the back room, his eyes focused on drying his hands, "how may I--" Shiro looks up languidly, freezing in place once he realizes who exactly is in his shop.

A second ticks by. Then two.

Shiro just...stares at Keith, puzzling the young man.

Shiro rushes up to Keith once he snaps out of his stupor, forgetting the towel, which is probably somewhere on the floor by now, stopping just short of crashing into the young noble. He brings his hands up, grabbing Keith's face and unceremoniously mushing his cheeks together. "Keith--Keith, I--you're--you're alive?" Keith nods, a squished and warped smile creeping onto his face, Shiro's strong grip preventing a full-fledged one (at least full-fledged for him). After a few seconds it starts to hurt, and Keith gently taps Shiro's left hand--he knows it's useless to tap his right one; he won't feel it.

Shiro stutters out a detatched apology, robotically releasing his tight grip on Keith, still dumbfounded. Keith just...stands there, hoping the man can recollect his wits by himself.

After a few more minutes of staring silently at a very uncomfortable Keith who's shuffling his feet by now, Shiro yanks him back in all too suddenly, wrapping his colossal body around Keith's lithe figure. "God, Keith, I was so worried about you. How--how'd you stay alive this long? It's been weeks. You probably need food and water," he pauses, shifting the hug so that his face is now hovering over Keith's shoulder, pressing his cheek against his greasy hair, "blegh," he scrunches up his nose, drawing away from Keith with a light grin, "and a bath."

Keith rolls his eyes at Shiro's dramatics, shoving him light-heartedly, but doesn't object when Shiro hurries to the back room, which, as Keith brings himself closer in inquiry, is emitting a pleasant aroma and a slightly alarming amount of heat. He hears a few muffled voices murmuring behind the door, and Shiro slides out of the room, carrying a tray with a few slices of bread and butter.