Re: Courting Arthur Kirkland.

[King of Spades]

Alfred glared at the man across the table, ready to hit him in the face for being exactly against his values. Now this wasn't someone he wanted to marry. "Alright, princess, if you can't stand being in this rat hole, then feel free to leave, cause I wanna stay here a lil' bit longer to have fun. But you don't know fun, so I won't take away any more of your precious time. Goodnight!"

He shoved his steak angrily into his mouth and chewed like nobody's business, refusing to look at Arthur any longer. There was no way this marriage could ever work. He couldn't afford his own husband to be the one who would be in his way.

[Queen of Spades]

The thought of going back out there alone horrified him, but he would look like a fool if he stayed here now. "Fine. I'll leave. I suppose I will see you at the-. . .at home." Arthur stood and brushed himself free of dirt before leaving the horrible pub and making his way back through this terrible district. He was scared to be alone out here, but there was no helping it. He would simply have to find his own way back.

The girls from earlier were still out and he did his best to avoid them and say "No thank you." This street was even dirtier than that pub,though there was no turning back, now. Arthur wasn't really sure which way was back, anyway. He had gotten himself lost (as he often did) in this horrible place of promiscuity and misery. Wonderful.

[King of Spades]

Alfred was getting drunk.

He didn't have to dwell on thoughts about stupid Arthur Kirkland. Thus he snapped his fingers and order one beer after another. The men cheered as they knew that it was free booze time. Alfred stood up and announced that he was paying, earning a thunder of approval in return.

Now he was on his fifth beer mug and beginning to feel the numbing effects of alcohol, surrounded by drunk people who loved him for his generosity.

Alfred laughed and joked and sang with the men but couldn't find himself to be truly enjoying the evening. More often than not his mind drifted away towards Arthur, whether it was okay to have let him go on his own.

Of course it was okay, Arthur was an adult after all, a man could take care of himself.

Another mug empty, cue the next one.

No, it was most definitely not okay. Arthur who was a stranger to the large capital, Arthur who was dressed expensively...
"I'm such an idiot," he mumbled and stood up, his legs wobbling.

"Young master, stay a little bit longer!" Said one man and pushed him back down on his seat.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur meanwhile was getting deeper and deeper into the fray. The ladies had stopped harassing him and now he was being leered at by drunken men and the runners of whore houses. He was trying to find his way out but it only trapped him farther in. At this point, no one would notice him missing by perhaps breakfast (but maybe even later, if word gets out that he and Alfred fought) and even then no one would find him in this maze. He was a dead man. Or. . .something much worse would happen, but he didn't want to think about that.

He did his best to keep to himself and look like he had a purpose, but it wasn't long before his arm was grabbed by a group of drunken men. Arthur had always been the weakest of his brothers, instead of wrestling and hunting outside Arthur stayed inside and read or studied. He never had to learn to defend himself, as he never went anywhere. Until now and he was surrounded by horrible smelling men, unable to escape.

"Well, well, well. . .seems like a rich kid's wanderin' in the wrong place. ." Arthur wrinkled his nose from the stench and tried to pull away, causing the man to hold him tighter.

"Let me go! I command it!"

[King of Spades]

"No really, I gotta go now guys," he handed over a pouch of silver coins and stood up, ignoring the protest from the rest of the patrons. He grabbed his coat and rushed out of the tavern with only a quick goodbye.

It was already dark and late. Alfred's heart immediately sank as he suddenly realised the big mistake he'd made, panic rising in his chest. It was dark and naturally it was the most dangerous this time around.

It never really occurred to him that Arthur was of a slender figure with a frailer appearance than the other men. Perhaps Arthur used to live spending his life in the gardens, drinking his tea while being surrounded by red roses. His world was pressed together on pages, put together in books. So how did Alfred ever had the illusion that Arthur would be okay straying around in a seedy, unfamiliar district?

He was angry at Arthur but he couldn't let him off to meet danger like this.

So Alfred began to run, asking people for Arthur. He ran through alleys and cramped streets, passed houses where lewd moans could be heard; the thought of Arthur being trapped and forced into such an establishment made him sick.

[Queen of Spades]

"Command? Who're you to command us?" The men moved in closer, pressing Arthur's back up against a wall. Fear welled in his throat, making it difficult to speak without shaking. Here Arthur stood no chance. At the very least they didn't know that he was the to-be-Queen. That would only make matters much worse.

"I-I am. ." Arthur looked around at all of them, at a loss for what to do. At most he hoped that he wouldn't be forced into one of these dark houses and sold to the highest bidder, but he couldn't be sure. HE regretted ever leaving the castle with Alfred this morning. He should have known that the other would take him somewhere dangerous with no concern for either of their safety.

The first punch his Arthur in his jaw. He wasn't expecting it, it came from the side by a man who hadn't spoken yet. "Whatta shame about yer pretty face. . ." They all laughed as if it were the most hilarious joke, and continued with the punches. Next was his stomach, sides, and again with his face. They seemed to enjoy making him bleed there the most. Arthur did his best to not shout in pain or cry, bottling it up. What he did do is fall to the ground when they released him, and curled up to try to protect himself.

He hated Alfred for bringing him here at all. He hated these men for being violently drunk. He hated himself for coming and getting lost rather than staying at home.

But most of all he wished he were back in his own town, in his bed, with a book. Where no one would bother or hurt him.

[King of Spades]

"ARTHUR!"

Alfred jumped out from the shadow encased alleyway and lunged forward, not minding the dirty puddles or the narrow space that limited his mobility. It was dark, Alfred could barely see but he knew exactly where the bastards were standing. Blindly, but strangely effectively, he stretched out his arm and grabbed one of the men by the shoulder, spun him around to face the angry king. Alfred wound up and threw his fist against the first man's sorry nose, he heard it crack but it wasn't enough. So he threw another punch right on the mouth, meanwhile blocking the attack from the other with a swift motion of his upper body.

He threw them against the brick wall, kicked them in the gut for good measure. While the first one was knocked out, the others were still up for a fight back. He felt a hard blow against his shoulder blades and hissed but he didn't stop his movements.

The sight of Arthur helplessly lying on the ground, clearly wounded made him boil in rage and his guilt grew.

"Away, step away from him!" He growled.

It was only now that he noticed the bruises all over his body and somewhere he was drawing blood, though he couldn't care less at the moment.

The problem was, he was still outnumbered. The final measure was to draw his sword from its sheath, the blade glinting in the darkness.

The group of brainless men gasped in realisation.

"For the last time, step away from him. I'll have your head anyway. All of you in front of the city wall! So that everybody can see what scums you lot are, fucking bastards!"

Now it was slowly downing on them that they might have had to do with someone who had influence, perhaps a noble. Slowly, far too slowly, they retreated with huffs and curses.

Once they were out of sight, Alfred dropped his sword and went down to touch Arthur by the back of his head. "Oh Arthur..."

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur recoiled from the hand and tried to shrink into the wall. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to go back to his room. He knew that voice, he understood it was Alfred, but he still felt so miserable about the experience that he didn't want to talk to the other. His manners told him to say thank you but his mind wildly objected, why should he thank the person who got him hurt in the first place? If Alfred hadn't insisted they go out, taken him to that wretched pub, and then told him to leave he would likely be safe in his room at the castle, reading or writing in a journal. Not lying on a filthy street, bleeding from multiple wounds. He placed Alfred just as much as fault as those drunken heathens.

Arthur kept himself silent, assuming that if he didn't speak Alfred would take him home without further prodding. That was all he wanted at this point, the safety of the castle. There were guards there, knights at every turn. He vowed to never leave without at least two guards again, it was too dangerous. He was afraid of his own capital and he had hardly been there a week.

[King of Spades]

He picked Arthur up, finding out that bridal style was the least painful solution. On their way back he kept whispering the words sorry and forgive me. It was all his fault, he knew. And he didn't know how to make everything better.

"We're back, Arthur," he said in a low voice to Arthur who had had his eyes closed the whole time and his face pressed against his chest, as if refusing to look at the world.

Carefully, he lay Arthur on the bed. He called the maids to tend for his wounds and the physician looked up for any hidden injuries. Fortunately, there were only the visible injuries and Arthur's life wasn't in danger.

After everybody had left, he was now alone with Arthur in the room. It felt cold, the gentle feeling of the chamber that had been there in the morning had vanished.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

[Queen of Spades]

The walk back had been excruciating for Arthur. His monstrous pride had kept him from crying or blubbering or any emotion that was unbecoming for the future Queen. They hurt like hell, all the bruises and cuts he had, and it hurt even worse when the physician was cleaning and bandaging them. Arthur's vow to never leave cemented itself in his mind, and he resolved to stay very angry with Alfred.

"Like hell you are." Arthur carefully turned his head to look away from Alfred. It lost all dramatic effect, but spared him pain. "I think you find this amusing. That I got what I deserve. I'm sure you'll go back to the tavern and tell all your slimy friends about how the man you came in with got what he deserved." Arthur would have scoffed there, if it didn't hurt so much.

[King of Spades]

The king almost snapped at the accusation, wanted to yell in Arthur's ears that it wasn't true and that he should be more grateful. But then he thought, grateful for what? For taking him out of the castle and for the injuries? So he decided to shut his mouth, the corners of his lips twitching.

"Sorry," he repeated again for lack of better words.

"W-wait a minute..."

Suddenly he ran to the end of the room, opened the door and disappeared, only his loud steps could be heard as he ran down the corridor to go someplace.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur groaned and looked out the window, admiring the trees just outside. It was peaceful now that Alfred was gone, if a bit scary. As much as he was still angry with Alfred, the other did save him and there was a bit of safety with the young prince.

He would never admit that. Alfred and he were trapped together, yes, but that doesn't mean that Alfred needed to know his thoughts. He would keep his emotions to himself.

[King of Spades]

After a while Alfred was back, slamming the door open to run in. He was slightly breathless from the long run. Now he was staring at Arthur with determined eyes and a faint blush decorating his cheeks. His hair was tousled, the golden locks all tangled and single leaves were stuck inbetween.

His hands were red and scratched, in those he was holding a dozen of spades roses, clumsily picked from the gardens.

Alfred knew nothing about Arthur except for the fact that he loved the blue roses. And since Alfred didn't know any better, he could only think of this one awkward way of apologising. He had never been the master of socializing anyway.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur turned to look at Alfred, frowning. He realized how out of breath Alfred was and the twigs. . .clearly he had gone through lengths to get the flowers. The thorns must have hurt his hand when he was pulling them. Carefully he reached his arm up to take the stems, avoiding and tiny hiding thorns left. ". . .Thank you." Really, the fact that Alfred noticed and remember his affinity for these beautiful bouquets made him feel better.

Enough to forgive Alfred for earlier. "And. . .thank you for finding me." He still wasn't going to leave the castle without armed guards, but he did feel a little better.

[King of Spades]

Nothing could compare with the beaming smile that somehow, as if magically, graced the young king's features. He was even brave enough to come closer again so that he was now holding onto the edge of the bed. "S-so...you forgive me?"

He didn't even know why it was so important for him to be forgiven. Maybe it was simply the feeling of guilt and had nothing to do with the fact that it was Arthur.

"Look, I'm really sorry I brought you in this kind of situation. And...and for saying all those things. I- I shouldn't have tried to force my opinions on you." To be honest, he was holding firmly onto his ideal but in the meantime it was more important to reconcile with Arthur first.

His whole body was hurting because of the fight earlier but strangely it was the scratches on his fingers that hurt the most.

[Queen of Spades]

"I. . .do forgive you, yes." Arthur gently touched the petals of his roses, admiring them for a long second before he spoke again. "And I was the one in the wrong. You are the King, it is I who was out of place in telling you my opinions." Arthur sighed, regretting the fact that it was brought up that night. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut, even when it was out of line.

Indeed even though he would be Queen he was not of royal birth and therefore far below the King-to-be. It was not his place to correct the other's view on life.

[King of Spades]

"No!" He almost shouted. "No. You can't say something like that! Everybody's entitled to say their opinion -even though yours was shit- and I don't want you to think like that! I- I don't want to appear like a tyrant or something like that."

He took the roses from Arthur and placed them into the vase to join the roses from previous night. Alfred smiled at the huge bouquet. He then went back to sit on the bedside. Hesitantly, his hand went to lightly touch Arthur's, took it in his and he proceeded to kiss the
back. He was hoping to somehow save his courting attempts.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against Arthur's hand.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur flushed and cleared his throat, looking to the side again. It was hard to hide his blush while lying in bed, but he would still never admit to it. "Neverless it isn't my place to disagree with you." He had meetings every day with a governess who taught him the important roles of a Queen. Above all he was supposed to support the King in every decision no matter how foolish. The job of opposing was left to the advisers.

"We shant speak of this trip again." He wanted it to be out of his mind for good.

[King of Spades]

Alfred nodded. "You should rest now, that's the best way for your injuries to heal. I'll return to my chambers I guess," he said awkwardly. Was it reluctance that he felt when he was about to release Arthur's hand? Certainly not. "Goodnight, I guess. Don't have nightmares, I guess. If there's anything you need, just ring the bell...or well, I'm nearby."

Slowly, he went out and shut the door as quiet as possible. Barely two seconds had passed, the door creaked open again and Alfred's head peeped through, staring at Arthur. His head disappeared again, only to show up for a second time.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur, rather amused by the others antics, smiled and waved him in. "If you don't want to go then don't. Stay with me a while." Arthur didn't really mind the company, the castle was a very lonely one indeed. "Will the gardener be mad about the roses you pulled. . .?" These bushes were expensive after all, and Alfred had pulled him out haphazardly.

[King of Spades]

Alfred's expression lit up and he was back again, closing the door behind him. "I don't wanna stay but since you're obviously too scared being alone..." The king blushed despite himself.

He sat down at the spot to Arthur's side as there was plenty of space. His back rested against the headboard. Tilting his head to face Arthur, he said, "He's going to kill me. He's never been very impressed by my status. So, my head will probably hand tomorrow." He laughed. He was actually pretty scared of the gardener; his rage was traumatising.

"Anyway, you really need to sleep! I'll wait until you've fallen asleep and then I'll return to my own bed, kay?" His voice came out surprisingly gentle.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur saw right through the ruse, but he felt it would be rude to mention. Instead he smiled just a little more and closed his eyes, relaxing against the pillow. "Alfred. . .the oracle is right. You really are a good hero." He was exhausted, so he fell asleep quickly and slept well.

Come the morning his body was incredibly sore and Arthur was reluctant to move. The nights events came to mind and he looked around, just in case Alfred was still here.

[King of Spades]

Alfred blushed at the words spoken before Arthur finally fell into a well-deserved slumber. Of course he was a hero, nothing to get flustered about. But still, he smiled happily, biting his lips in glee.

Now that Arthur was asleep, he could return to his own bed where he could rest as well. But suddenly, all the alcohol in his blood made itself noticeable. The fight and the concern over Arthur had made his mind sober but he was now feeling the effect at full force. "Shit," he hissed.

His stomach churned, his head was spinning. He only needed to rest for a few minutes, he thought. He wasn't going to close his eyes for long, only to soothe his body for a little bit and then he would stand up and leave.

The next morning his arms were wrapped around Arthur.

[Queen of Spades]

Arthur felt the heavy arms around him and didn't want to move. His face flushed red and his body hurt, and. ."Alfred." Arthur cleared his throat in attempts to wake the other up. This was awkward, but Arthur couldn't really move away from it either.

[King of Spades]

He felt warm. It was definitely not yet time to wake up, he pressed himself closer towards the source of warmth. The warmth smelled of roses. Lazily, he blinked his eyes open with a smile, only to be faced with a beet red Arthur who was staring at him with wide eyes.

First thing to do was the obligatory scream; the abrupt movement of his body resulted in him falling off the bed, getting tangled with the bed cover. The wounds all over his body hurt at the rough landing. "Holy mother..." he gasped.

Why was he here in Arthur's room and not in his?

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