Prince of Heart: Rise Up

The space surrounding Derse is black as coal. Only the shimmering violet hue from the planet beneath him provides light. He doesn't look down, though. He keeps his shaded gaze forward. He doesn't want to see the blood soaking through his mauve clothes, the head of the Brute that he carries under his arm, the stained pike in his other hand. He has one thing in mind, and that is Prospit.

He isn't sure how long it will take him, but he will get there. There is no arguing. He clenches his jaw, but avoids letting any other emotion show on his pale face. The bus to the neighboring golden planet only leaves once in a while, but he has no time for that. He needs to get there now.

The Dersites below are following in a strange and dark procession as the Prince flies above them, blood dripping from his body onto their heads. He doesn't understand why they would follow him so. He doesn't want to be a child of Derse. He could care less. As long as he makes it to Prospit. He spears the Brute's head onto the pike and leaves it in the center of the city as a reminder to the rest of Derse's population, should any higher beings send anyone else after the Rogue and himself. He has enough mind to leave Jack a note ("The Prince is awake. Your shit is wrecked."), and can only hope the man takes his challenge.

Space is dark as he travels away from Derse's orbit and the procession below comes to a halt around the gruesome display. He still doesn't look back. Now that he is free of the Brute's skull, blood is no longer soaking through his clothes, but they are stained beyond repair. He flexes his fingers, hearing the crack of dried plasma. There isn't much he can do as he floats through space, but he does pray for Roxy, who is now alone on their dismal planet.

It seems like days pass by as the Prince flies to Prospit, but soon enough the shimmering light from the golden planet reaches him. He shakes his hands out once more, perhaps the thousandth time since he began his journey (dried blood is very uncomfortable), and glances around discreetly once he is within Prospit's orbit. The city looms around him. He notices several Prospitians staring up at him, pointing, whispering, while others don't pay him any mind; perhaps they are still in mourning.

This thought spurs him on. He needs to find the city center, and fast. The city is blinding even behind his shades and it's confusing, but eventually the roads start to converge. More and more Prospitians appear, mourning, but none of them spare a glance to the indigo Prince. He flies quietly and when he turns a final corner, he sees his destination. The golden planet's inhabitants are thick in number, huddled together with heads bowed, crying, as a glittering memorial stands before them. Blue and red flowers are flowing from the edges, surrounding a gold-clad body lying peacefully in the center. The display is riveting, but the Prince can't help the grip in his throat as he fights back tears. He knows this isn't real, that this isn't the end of the Page. He understands that the boy he loves is still alive somewhere, happily struggling to fight a robot on his tiny little island. Yet the pain is still there.

He floats quietly onward until he is beside the Page's resting body. The Prospitians surrounding him watch him with grief clouding their eyes, but they don't confront him. All the better, because he has traveled this far to see the Page, to complete this mission, and he is determined to finish. He sits alongside his love and reaches a hand, still crusted with blood, to gently stroke the Page's cheek. His body is cold. The Prince feels the choke coming back, so he leans his entire figure in and lifts the Page's head to face him. He rests his forehead against the other's, glasses knocking together momentarily, and bites his lip; he knows this won't work, because he knows the real Page is still alive, but it is worth a try. If anything, he is still dreaming, and he will have just taken advantage of the opportunity to be here.

He is stalling, and he knows it, so he heaves a deep breath and lays his cheek against the Page's, then presses their lips together. It is morbid, kissing the dead body of the man he loves, but perhaps it will at least do something for the Page. The Prince pulls away, stroking the other's face gently, then feels a sharp pain within his chest. Looking down, he sees the blood-stained blade of a Dersite sword piercing through his body. He is bleeding out onto the Page's the body, the memorial and the surrounding flowers. There is a quiet chuckle behind him. Jack. He must have taken the shuttle from Derse once he found the message the Prince had left for him.

Jack removes the sword, and the Prince collapses atop the Page, foreheads pressed together once again. He seems warmer now, as the Prince holds him close and places a hand in the other's hair. Perhaps this is for the best, he wonders. The Maid and Rogue are still alive, as are their waking counterparts. There is still a chance to fix this.

Jack is gone now. The Prince is looking into the eyes of the Page, and everything is golden once more.

Prince of Heart: Ascend

Page of Hope: Ascend

omg guys this was so tough. yeah idk if it's possible to float from Derse to Prospit but you know what fuck it my fanfiction nyeh. Aaaaanyways hope you liked! I will go down with this ship.

Homestuck belongs to Andrew Fuckin Hussie and all copyright privileges belong to him. I only own this fanfic. Reviews are appreciated, not demanded, and flames will be used to stoke the fire of Mrs. Lovett's oven.