Chapter Text
A few days later, Kingu woke up with the sun. He longed for the sea, its warm embrace and caressing currents. For the first time, he didn’t feel heavy with illness; he felt light as though his soul was nearly detached from his body. For that reason, he decided to make the long journey to the beach. He had heard stories of Uruk funerals where the deceased were dressed up and put out to sea, so he decided to put on his best outfit, one Shamhat had given him that Gil had said looked good. But when he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see anything remotely beautiful. He was a corpse in clothing, skeletal and pale. But no one would send him off, so it didn’t matter how hideous he looked.
In a short while, Uruk’s streets would fill with vendors and shoppers, but as he was leaving, they were empty. Kingu would miss them. He looked wistfully at Uruk’s grand wall before crossing through it. He couldn’t return to the inside again.
When Kingu arrived on the beach, the sun was already high overhead. Overcome with exhaustion, he collapsed onto the coarse sand, then pulled his body into the water. He lay half in the water, half on the sand, gasping for each breath, not unlike a dying fish. The frigid waves crept up his legs but recoiled each time. Even the sea had rejected him. It was neither warm nor gentle as he remembered. He laughed bitterly.
Finding comfort in neither sand nor sea, he watched the slow parade of clouds, outlining their shapes in his mind.
“Somehow I knew I would find you here.” A golden figure towered above Kingu. “A lot has changed from that time, hm?”
“You were looking for me?”
“When Siduri went to your house this morning, she discovered you were no longer there, so she, Shamhat and I went searching for you. You must be glad that I found you.”
Siduri, Shamhat, and Gil? Kingu nodded weakly.
“Should I carry you back again?” Gil’s gaze drifted away with a slight glow of embarrassment. “Although, even if I rescue you, I don’t think we could ever be even.”
“No,” Kingu choked out. “It’s too late.”
Gil nodded solemnly before sitting on the sand. He picked up Kingu’s hand and eased its trembling with his fingers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”
“I haven’t been here that long.” Kingu tried to laugh to lighten the mood. “Besides, you’re injured.” Kingu could still see thick layers of bandages wrapped around Gil’s waist.
“Those are nothing.” Gil dismissed Kingu’s concerns. “It’s thanks to your actions that they weren’t that serious. Oh, I hate being in your debt.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Don’t start revering me now! Don’t you have something petty and unreasonable to demand?”
Kingu had many unreasonable desires, but he couldn’t ask Gil about them. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
Gil’s eyes had the serious look which Kingu had admired countless times. “Thank you, Kingu. You have saved me so many times.”
Neither of them wanted to hear the end of that thought. “Perhaps I should have come up with something?” Kingu laughed.
“It’s not too late.” A lie.
“Well…” When Kingu searched his brain, he only found anxiety. “Actually, I have something to tell you. Will you listen?”
“That’s your request? For me to listen to you?” Gil’s attempts to alleviate Kingu’s nerves failed.
“Seriously and considerately?”
“Of course. I will hear anything you have to say.”
Kingu inhaled slowly. “Gil,” he hesitated. “I…” The words faltered in his chest.
Gil put a gentle finger to Kingu’s quivering lips. “If you don’t want to say it, you don’t have to. I already know.”
What could you possibly know?
Gil’s lips curled into a smirk. He leaned in and tenderly kissed Kingu. His lips had a hint of wine, and they reddened Kingu’s cheeks and numbed his mind. If Kingu tasted them for too long, he would surely become intoxicated.
A tear slipped from Kingu’s closed eyes, but it was softly wiped away by Gilgamesh’s thumb, which caressed his face as it slid toward his ear.
Kingu could still feel the warm mingling of their breaths after they parted. Gil’s eyes had lost their sharpness, but Kingu was enchanted by their crimson depths. Gil whispered, “Any other requests?”
Kingu shook his head ever so slightly to avoid breaking eye contact. Don’t leave .
Gil’s fingers traced light circles on Kingu’s skin, running through his hair. Their message lulled Kingu from a panic to peaceful near-sleep. Was it okay for him… to close… his… eyes…?
Kingu felt exceptionally light. If he let his mind slip for even a bit, he would lose unconsciousness forever. Anxious as he was, his heartbeat was almost non-existent. He desperately clutched Gil’s hand. There was a return squeeze. Gil was still there.
Kingu’s grip grew weaker with each squeeze. The sea was slowly taking him from Gilgamesh, dissolving his body. But Gilgamesh would not let go. He had refused to acknowledge the goddess Tiamat even after he nearly died, and he wouldn’t start now.
Of course, the sea would try to take back her child, but Kingu was an Uruk now. As Uruk’s king and as an individual, Gilgamesh could not lose him.
Kingu’s body had faded so only his hand and a few strands of hair remained in Gilgamesh’s hands. It was only a short matter of time before he was gone entirely. If Kingu could give up everything and save Uruk, why couldn’t Gilgamesh save him from a few waves?
The small, white bubbles, glittering in the sunlight, floated upon the waves where Kingu had just been. They flirted with the land before pulling away. Such pure beauty could never last. Their transience only made the memory more dazzling as they were scattered by the incoming waves.