I was alone. In the whole world, I had nobody but myself. I was virgin land, untouched by civilization, begging to be taken in and taught the ways of men. I was alone until you found me. You took me under your wing and nurtured me.
I was a strong little colony. You always said I had potential, that I could grow up to be someone big and powerful. A hero, you said, at my childish insistence. I believed you. I wanted to become your protector, the one that would keep you from coming home with all the scars from war that you did when I was young. I believed you because I knew I could do it. I could be strong. At the time, I was only a child. I had dreams that were too tall for my tiny reach. You helped me to become what I wanted. You were my idol, the wonderful older brother that I had always wanted.
But as I grew up and began to see the world with an adult perspective, I noticed how tainted my idol was. I always thought badly of the others, hurting you and making you come home to me in bandages, but I began to notice that it was you who started most of the fights.
You never told me otherwise, but then again...you never corrected me.
You were powerful. Every game you played, you emerged the victor.
It was time for you to lose.
The crack of the firing musket was nearly lost in the clap of thunder that resounded in the field. Alfred wondered if Arthur recognized this place, if he realized that this was the field in which they had first met. What a cruel twist of fate, he thought, that the locale of his most precious, happy memory would be the same place that they first faced each other as enemies. He looked across the battlefield and saw Arthur's face, full of hatred and betrayal. He wondered if Arthur could hear him, screaming out silently for this all to stop, for Arthur to surrender...
When I was younger, we would lay in the grass and look up at the clouds. I would point out the funny shapes that they made in the sky, and you would tell me stories about the creatures I discovered.
I would close my eyes and think about how happy I was, how great it was that you found me. I thought that we could stay like that forever, happy and innocent, two brothers with nothing but each other.
But you didn't have just me, did you? You had colonies everywhere. You were the famed British Empire, a ruthless killer. I never saw that side of you, you let me pretend it didn't exist.
You would say you didn't care about anything but me, that I was the only thing that mattered to you. It was a damned lie, Arthur. You would tell an innocent child- ...you lied. You cared about your empire. You cared about remaining on top of the world, and I was nothing but a pawn.
I could tell that you didn't care. You never let me have my say, never let me be who I wanted. You would always win our arguments, leaving me under your control.
I didn't like it. I rebelled.
The flashes of gunpowder made the rain look like a raging blaze. The thunder was indistinguishable from the roar of bayonets. Alfred watched it all, his country fighting for its freedom. The rain poured down his face, mingling with the tears that were steadily falling. He knew that they were fighting for him, for his will. If only Arthur had listened...couldn't he tell this was only a cry of a desperate man? One who wanted so wholly to just be regarded as an adult. He was screaming...screaming his name...
I risked it all. I shattered the illusion we had made, let the relationship we thought we had die. I knew it would never be the same between us.
I was glad. I didn't want it to be the same. I was sick of the lies, of the commanding, of you taking advantage of me! It was the last time. The last time, Arthur.
But still...sometimes I wake up calling for you. I look around the house to find you, even though I know you won't be there. It's over between us. Everything we had is gone...but I can't help myself from hoping you'll still be there...
He rebelled. He fought back, stood up for what he believed in. Now here they were, nearly in the exact spot where they had met all those years ago. Arthur was on his knees, sobbing in a begrudging surrender. Alfred had won, he had gotten what he wanted...so why did the victory feel so sour? Why did the rain suddenly taste so salty and metallic? Tears and blood poured from his wounds, be they physical or emotional. He cried, and he tried to shout, but it came out as only a whisper.
"Arthur..."
Alfred cried, for he knew life would never be the same after this. He had lost his brother, his closest friend...it was the last time he would see him like this, like family. The last time...
It hurt, but I didn't care. I knew you felt the same. I wanted it to sink in, your greatest loss, so maybe you would realize what you'd done wrong. I wanted you to feel the sting, to let it burn.
Let it burn.
Let it burn.
A/N: This is a songfic based off of Adele's "Set Fire to the Rain." I heard it the other day and couldn't help but think of the Revolutionary War, I thought it portrayed the situation perfectly. I hope I was able to get it across. Reviews are love!
