T.T Okay, so I totally couldn't get this idea out of my head. I apologize for taking so long to put out another story of some sort, but I intend to alternate between this one and my other one until they're done. Anyway~ Off we go.
Oh! Wait. If you've never read anything about the cardverse, you might want to have a look at this stuff before you read on:
Diamonds, Spades, Clubs, and Hearts are ruled by a trio (a king, queen, and jack). These are just titles and they don't have anything to do with gender, etc. In this story, the royals are chosen instead of born into the roles. I'll add in some definitions and stuff at the bottom of the page if you want to check them out; those will be more story specific, though.
Nope, I don't own Hetalia.
Shining, polished black loafers thudded haphazardly against the ground in an overly repetitive motion. The grand blue chambers of the Spades throne room thundered with the noise in a relatively quiet sign that something in the kingdom of blue was seriously off.
Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click. Pause. Turn. Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click. Repeat.
Directly across from the door, on the opposite side of the large chamber, sat three ornate thrones, the tallest of which sat in the middle with the other two one either side. The Jack of Spades was seated in the throne to the left, his arms folded within the baggy sleeves of his ornate blue clothing, his posture straight and cultured. His black hair was regally tied off over one shoulder with the silk-like strands falling to an almost-curl at the very bottom. His wise, dark eyes watched the pacing figure cross the royal blue rug that led from the door up to the steps and platform that housed the thrones for the fifth time in the past minute (royalty in Spades were as intimately connected to time as they were to magic so the Jack's measure was quite precise). His expression stayed carefully neutral and thoughtful as he watched the blue-suited man turn to cross the rug once again.
The Queen of Spades watched with irritated eyes that, on any other day, would shine like emeralds from his seat to the right of the vacated middle throne. While the Queen's clothes were less exotic than the Jack's in design, they were no less regal and no less blue. The pale hand of the Queen swept absently through a mop of messy blonde hair (by the Jack's count that was the third time in the past two minutes). Well cared for black shoes tapped irritably against the ground in an absent chorus with the steps of the pacing figure below the thrones. Thick brows were drawn together as the commander of Spade's armies (the duty of any Spade Queen) scowled more so at the future connected to the pacing man than the man himself.
The pacing man, a subconscious metronome in his own right, reached the wall adjacent to the wall hosting the thrones before turning to make another round to the opposite wall. When he came across the blue rug once again, that was all the Queen could take.
"Alfred," the Spade Queen snapped, finally bringing a halt to the King's pacing. Sapphire-colored eyes as blue as the décor around them framed by thin wire frames snapped up from the floor to meet the Queen's scowl.
The King of Spades was a fairly tall man with a build that was a bit more study in comparison to the more slender versions of his fellow royals. While he was, indeed, one of the most important figures in their country, his clothing was much plainer than the Jack or Queen as a result of a long list of his tendency to ruin nice clothing with his often exuberant stunts. His blonde hair was fairly straight and orderly save the single, almost ridiculous, cowlick that rested at the part in the front. His usually cheerful expression was pulled tight with stress and anxiety that generally never showed on the King's features.
"I can't do this Artie," the Spade king, Alfred, responded with the words that seemed so wrong escaping the lips of the man whom the common people had dubbed their hero.
Arthur, the Queen of Spades, felt his eyes widen. In yet another rare show, his emerald eyes softened in sync with the pang in his chest. "Then don't do it," he reasoned, "It was a bloody mad idea in the first place; no one will blame you if you decide not to go through with it."
The King bit at his lip in thought. He quickly shook his head, his decision already made weeks ago. "I have to," he decided, his resolution sounding clear in his voice. A spark of his usual confidence and conviction relit the fire that generally burned behind those sapphire eyes.
Having seen that look before, the Queen's emerald eyes narrowed considerably to dangerous slits. That was not the response Arthur had been hoping for; he wanted nothing more than to bush this nonsense aside and get on with the preparations for war with Clubs. Knowing that the King would not be easy to move at that point, Arthur turned to the previously silent Jack, "Yao, tell him this is his most ludicrous scheme yet!"
The dark-haired man eyed the King's expression before turning his head to do the same with the Queen's. "If Alfred backs out now, war with Clubs is inevitable, aru," he countered once he was done gauging the reactions of the other two monarchs, "This would be an insult that even Alfred could not talk his way out of."
"And you think that he's not going to insult Clubs while he's there?" Arthur demanded, leering down at the seated Jack.
The blonde King made an offended expression, "Hey! I can be nice when I wanna."
Arthur tore his leer from Yao and returned it to Alfred, "Not to a Club, you can't." The King of blue opened his mouth to retort but promptly shut it: what was the point in arguing the truth? Satisfied that he'd made his point to Alfred, Arthur returned to his argument with Yao, "It's war either way; shouldn't we have our King where we at least know that he's safe instead of where he can be used as a hostage if they betray us?"
Yao seemed to consider this for a moment. While the Jack debated, Alfred quickly climbed the stairs to the platform hosting the thrones with a practiced skill. He took hold of the shorter blonde's forearms and smiled brilliantly, "Glad to know all this crankiness is about you being worried about me. Don't worry, though; I'll be fine. I'm not too easy to take down, you know."
On any other day, Arthur would have argued loudly and denied that he cared what happened to the young King. Today, however, was not a normal day. The King of Spades and the King of Clubs had made a deal to avoid war: the King of Spades was to live in the house of Clubs until Clubs called off the deal, which was unlikely since it kept Spades considerably weakened. It was a sign of "good faith" between them. Arthur knew the truth behind the careful language; the Spade king was to be a virtual prisoner in exchange for the avoidance of a war that would rip Spades apart. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought of the boy he'd practically raised being anything but free. "Stupid git," he muttered, carefully avoiding the young King's blue eyes.
A quark of Alfred's lips formed an amused expression that he wasn't sure he really felt at the moment, "There's the Artie I know." He let go of the Queen's arms and took a step back to address his Jack. "Yao, d'ya really think they'll go back on their word? 'Cause that's totally not noble," he questioned.
Yao, who had been pondering the question since Arthur had raised it, shook his head with a certain gravity. "No, I do not think so," he answered, "Killing you or holding you hostage would be a breach of the bargain; it would give Diamonds and Hearts the excuse they need to turn against Clubs in war."
Alfred nodded and Arthur looked at the ground, away from the other two members of the royal family. Yao's point was quite valid, of course; the King of Hearts had been waiting for years for a politically sound excuse to attack the King of Clubs for a reason the Spade court could only imagine was a personal matter. While Clubs was strong, literally taking on the rest of the world was simply something none of the four nations could even hope to do alone. Well… save the mystical Jokers, but they had explicitly been cursed to isolation on their prison-like island, never to be found by any mortal being and never to escape centuries ago. Some even speculated that the Jokers never existed in the first place. Alfred might have assumed the same thing if he hadn't seen the ruins of their once mighty empire all across the land of Spades. It was no secret that the Spade king made a hobby of archeology.
"This is still rubbish," Arthur hissed quietly, his fists clinched as he raised his eyes back to Alfred, "If you're intent on getting yourself killed, I'll have you know that I will take no part in it. Goodnight, Alfred, and goodbye."
The Queen of Spades rushed from the throne room that was otherwise empty save for the Jack and King in a fury of blue robes and the stomping of polished shoes.
"Good ole Artie," Alfred laughed softly, collapsing in his cushioned blue and gold throne, "He'll see me off anyway." The King looked up at the high roof covered in lavish murals depicting the rise of the Kingdom of Spades after tearing itself from Joker occupation. He folded his hands over his stomach as he slouched on the large throne he would sit in only once more.
The Jack's dark eyes watched the young King, softening a significant degree. They all three had their disagreements, and their differences were many, but the Jack had seen both of his fellow monarchs grow into the men that were hailed as the greatest King and Queen Spades had known since the very beginning of their country along with their wise and well-loved Jack; the three of them had braved many storms together, war and a love of the people binding them together as tightly as a blood-related family. "We are simply worried for you, aru," he pointed out what Arthur would not admit.
Alfred nodded once with a distant smile, "Yeah, I know." He still hadn't taken his gaze from the very first King of Spades pictured on the roof. The regal man held high the blue flag that bore the symbol and namesake of their country in one hand and an ornate golden blade in the other. "I'm gonna miss your cookin', dude," he teased Yao, finally setting his eyes back on Yao.
Yao let out a snort of laughter while a soft smile graced his lips, "I suppose I could send something by way of an ambassador."
Alfred's eyes lit up and he whirled around in his seat to face his Jack more directly, "Seriously? Dude, that'd be the best gift ever! Just… don't let Artie help, okay?" His nose scrunched up a fraction as he thought back to Arthur's last meal. He'd forced it down because he realized the shorter blonde had done it because Alfred was set to leave soon, but he'd just gotten over the four-day illness he'd picked up from the food.
Yao's smile widened and he nodded, "Of course I won't; he wastes too much food."
Alfred laughed for the first time in a day and leaned back against his throne. The Jack stood up after a moment of silence. "Goin' to bed?" Alfred asked.
Yao nodded, "It's getting late. You should be going to sleep as well; it will be a long day."
Alfred's smile faded down to a ghost of what it had been. "Nah, I think I'm gonna stay up for a little bit." Yao gave him a sympathetic look before nodding and heading out of the deserted throne room, leaving the King to his thoughts.
Alone in the empty room, Alfred propped one of his ankles up on the opposite knee and interlocked his hands behind his head. His eyes flicked back up to the depiction of the former Spade King on the roof. He didn't sleep that night. Instead, he stayed awake, his eyes locked on the picture of hours, wondering if leaving the Yao and Arthur without an integral part of the government (leaving the people weak without their king) was really the best course of action. He knew the answer as soon as he asked the question: without his agreement to the proposal, war would break out and Spades would fall.
That still didn't stop him from asking it over and over again.
The throne room of Spades was abuzz with a roar of the combined multitude of whispers. While the throne room had been decorated as though there was to be a celebration, no one was celebrating. No hint of cheer showed on the face of a citizen wearing blue. This would be their last time seeing or hearing from their King. Not to mention the rumors that life in Clubs changed a person and rarely for the best. They feared for their cheerful and kind-hearted King, feared that he would come home a shadow of his former self.
None feared more than the Jack and Queen, the latter of which was absent from the trio of thrones which seated the royal family. Many citizens found it odd to watch their King glance at the empty throne at his right for the absent Queen. They could see it in his actions: Alfred was nervous and jumpy. The lack of the magic-wielding monarch only made it worse.
Alfred shifted on his throne for the sixth time in the past five minutes. He shot Yao a confused look, silently asking when Arthur was. The dark-haired Jack simply shook his head, having no idea. Instead of his usual plain clothes, Alfred had been coerced into wearing the full garb befitting any other King of Spades, making him even more irritable. He pulled gently at his shirt collar before running a hand through his hair.
He'd never actually met the King of Clubs. The two countries had been at the brink of war since Alfred was a small child living in a tiny, almost unknown village with his mother and brother. When the new king had been crowned, he'd become a secretive creature as far as Spades was concerned. Information on the man was almost impossible to find. All Alfred had been able to uncover was that the King of Clubs should be roughly around his age and absolutely terrifying (that was really encouraging, he'd scoffed). His rather active imagination had filled in the details, and that man was one his way, through the streets of Spades, to the castle to retrieve his end on the bargain.
When a familiar voice shouted overtop of the crowd, Alfred felt relief surge throughout his entire being like water over a burn. His blue eyes shifted towards the source of the sound. The Queen of Spades was forcing his way through the crowd that didn't part fast enough for the blonde's tastes. Once the Queen was before his throne, he straightened his clothes before taking his seat.
Alfred shot Arthur a bright smile, "I thought you really weren't comin' for a minute there."
Arthur scoffed without looking at Alfred. The latter noticed the Queen's hands were clutching the arm rests of the throne, nails digging painfully into the gold-colored metal that was sure to hold up longer than human nails. "What do you think I am? Heartless?" the Queen hissed.
"Never," Alfred teased, feeling much more at home than he had before, "Well… maybe just a little bit."
The Queen threw something at Alfred's lap. For a minute, Alfred assumed it was just something random the Queen had in his pocket to pelt at the King. When he saw the spade-shaped charm on a silver-link necklace, he knew otherwise. He slipped it over his head, allowing the black charm to hang proudly over his blue clothes. "It's enchanted for luck," Arthur explained, his fingers digging even harder at the throne, a sure sign of his rage and inability to change the situation, "Knowing your stupidity, you'll need all of the luck you can find."
Alfred's smile brightened, "Thanks, Artie; you're the best."
Arthur frowned deeply, still not looking at the young King. "If I don't hear from you Alfred, I'm going to war. Do you hear me?" he warned gravely.
"Stop worrying. I'm not a little kid anymore, Artie," Alfred pointed out, "I can take care of myself just like I can protect both of you and the kingdom; that's my job as King of Spades."
Arthur sighed heavily, but a hint of a smirk touched his lips, "I know, git."
Alfred was about to comment when he heard the large, grand oak doors of the throne room open. Silence suffocated the room as everyone watched to catch a glimpse at the mysterious King of Clubs. Alfred felt his heart beating in his skull and a numb tingling spread through his digits. His blue eyes watched the door from behind thin wire frames, subconsciously leaning forward in his seat as he did when he was watching a rare play that he really got into.
Click, click, click, click. The thick shoes hit neatly against the floor in a staccato beat. For a fraction of a minute, Alfred's mind was too anxious to process the man before the assembly of Spades. The first thing he noticed was the mass of green, black, and pale yellow-green that made up the man's clothes (a bit too thick of the usually temperate weather in Spades). As soon as he made it passed the green, his blue eyes fell on the man's face where a small, almost innocent smile rested. A head of pale blonde hair framed the King's face and a small green hat rested off to the side. Before Alfred regained feeling in his limbs, violet eyes were watching him curiously from the bottom step of the six stone steps that led to the thrones of Spades. Alfred leaned back in his throne as though that would suddenly keep him from having to leave. He wasn't afraid of the King; no, seeing him made all of it real. He was going to leave the only home he'd ever known and go to a land, as he'd heard, of nightmares.
Yao was the first to move, efficient as always and less governed by emotions than his fellow monarchs. "Welcome, King Ivan Braginski of Clubs, to the royal court of Spades," he greeted formally even if there was a narrowed look to his eyes.
The small smile on the foreign monarch's face didn't budge. Instead, he lifted a hand and waved shortly as though he were greeting an old friend. Alfred bit down hard on his lip as he started to leer in order to keep from growling. Did he think this was a joke? "Good morning," the Club king spoke in a heavily accented voice, "You didn't need to go to this trouble for me."
"It's not for you," Arthur hissed from Alfred's right.
Sensing the oncoming conflict, Alfred stood to his full height, his military-like tailcoat straightening out with the motion. The usual warm and friendly smile his people were used to seeing at court was gone, replaced with a heavy frown that was only a step away from a leer. "Take care of Artie, Yao," the Spade king instructed without looking back.
"I will," Yao promised quietly.
Arthur was on his feet next, latching onto the younger blonde's violet cloak. It was only then that Alfred tore his gaze from the foreign monarch. "Artie?" he questioned, turning to face the older man who had raised him into the king he was.
Conflict was written across Arthur's face: give up Alfred or risk the kingdom. For a moment, Alfred was almost afraid he'd pick the first option. When a painfully forced smile appeared on the Queen's lips, Alfred knew it would be alright. Not caring that the people were watching or that the other king was standing several feet away, Alfred pulled his Jack and Queen into a tight embrace that said what they would not allow their words to speak.
Goodbye.
Arthur latched on almost immediately while Yao was a bit more hesitant but still gave in. Alfred let go a few minutes later and took a step back. He gave them a military-style salute and a playful smile (his forced smiles were much harder to catch than Arthur's) before turning his back on them, the past, to face what was to be his future. "Let's get this over with," he muttered, descending the stairs of the Spades thrones for what was likely to be the last time.
Ivan's smile widened, but something seemingly dangerous glinted in those violet eyes that sent an invisible shiver down the Spade king's spine. Standing face-to-face without the height separation of the platform or throne in the way, they were sizing each other up. Alfred frowned as he realized that, while he wasn't exactly short, he had to look up to catch the eyes of the taller monarch. Not to mention that that smile really bugged him, and he had no idea why.
Something in Ivan's eyes shifted, and Alfred couldn't tell what. "We should be going now," the taller blonde announced, "Clubs could go into a murderous riot without me, and we wouldn't want that, da?" Alfred knew that he was looking at Ivan as though he were watching one of those weird things in the museums he liked to frequent, but he couldn't tell if that was meant to be a joke or if it was the truth.
Before he could asked, Ivan turned his back and began marching right out of the throne room, leaving Alfred with one of the greatest, in his opinion, insults he could; the King of Spades was going to have to leave, of his own free will, his people and his fellow monarchs to follow after the king of their most bitter rivals.
With each step towards the door, Alfred began to hate the green-clad back in front of him that much more. He had to vent his hatred at the other man. If he didn't, all of that anger would be directed at himself for going along with it.
If he'd turned around to look behind him, he would have seen Arthur collapse into his throne with the weight of the responsibilities of both King and Queen of Spades as well as that of losing a little brother for the second time in his relatively young life (even though this lose was not to the eternity of death, in his mind, Arthur would likely never see the young king again). He would have seen Yao close his eyes in a moment of silence, hoping quietly for the young king's safety. He would have seen a whole kingdom morning the loss of its king.
As it was, all Alfred could see at the moment was the sea that isolated Spades from the rest of the world; it was the decorated warship in the harbor that would take him from Spades to a new life in Clubs. And all Alfred could think about was how, when he stepped on board the wooden vessel, he felt as though there were shackles closing around his ankles.
Whew. Glad I got that one out. Like I said, I plan to continue this one while alternating one uploading chapters in Echoes as well. I hope you guys enjoyed this because I kind of enjoy writing the cardverse~
As an announcement, I am looking for a regular beta, so if anyone is interested, let me know which story it is you'd like to look over, and I'd totally be indebted to you. :3
As for story background:
Clubs and Spades have been on the brink of war since modernization began which was roughly about eighteen years from the beginning of this story (if you're interested in the parallels I want to history, this story would take place roughly around theend of the Cold War). Each monarchy runs differently, so I'll add notes down here at the bottom for you guys to look at when each monarchy is dealt with in a little depth. *is OCD*
Monarchy in Spades
King: Responsible for the final judgment on legal and political matters. The king can be questioned only by the Queen or Jack. After something has been questioned, it goes up for discussion between the King, Queen, and Jack and majority rules. On matters of the economy, the king can only question the Jack; the king can't formally suggest anything in that area. Kings of Spades are notorious for their physical fighting prowess. Each king has traditionally been instructed in the art of swordplay since their choosing.
Queen: Responsible for the military and also able to suggest propositions in the political and legal realm. The Queen is the only person in Spades with the ability to declare war (though either the Jack or the King must second the motion). The Queen can question any resolution from the King, but generally doesn't deal with matters from the Jack. The Queen of Spades has always been a magician of some caliber up until the current Queen who, though having an enormous capacity for magic, cannot seem to control the spells he casts.
Jack: Responsible for the matters of the economy, both foreign and domestic, and for the castle's royal guard. The Jack can question any resolution from the King or Queen and is the only person in the Kingdom that can revoke a resolution that has been passed and in motion for over a year (though, in unison, the King and Queen could re-pass the resolution). Spades Jacks are well-known for their intelligence and insight.
The Kingdom of Spades in General
Also known as 'the Land of Magic,' Spades has the most balanced monarchy of the four major countries (no one knows how the Jokers' Land is governed). The King, Queen, and Jack are able to work both separately and together, and each member of the royal family can effectively check another member. This has prevented, for the most part, tyrannical rulers in Spades. Spades monarchs, unlike other monarchies, are chosen by gathering the youth of the nation before the central in the castle garden when a monarch dies and waiting to see which child will be chosen via magic spells to replace the late monarch.
It is a prosperous nation even though it has faced a few severe economic issues during the recent industrialization. It boasts the largest number of magic-wielders of the four countries, making many suspicious that many of the citizens of Spades are either the decedents of Jokers or the decedents of people who were taught by Jokers during their rule since Spades was controlled by the Joker Empire far longer than any other country.
Geographically, Spades is a rather large island separated by a rather large expanse of ocean from the other nations. Spade's isolation is another theory for why its people host such a large number or magic-wielders; almost every aspect of Spade culture is founded around the art, and it hasn't changed much since its break from Joker occupation (historically based on both the Isolationism of the US and Great Britian).
o.o Wow… I feel like I'm trying to design a roleplay or something. :P