The Strongest Among You
"My lord, the messenger from the King of Spain has arrived." A chain mail clad guard announced as he bowed to his king.
"Very well. Bring him in." King Arthur announced, his thick English accent proof of his title. The man bowed deeply once again before exiting the throne room. The King of England, a man clad in the finest crimson royal robes lined with gold, King Arthur. Arthur, using a single hand to adjust the large bejeweled crown properly over his blond hair, called out to his most trusted, yet troublesome, knight.
"Sir Jones, get in here you bloody git." Upon his shout, another blond man appeared from the shadows. This man, although he bore the title of a knight, wore only a peasant's simple blue tunic and black trousers. Sir Jones bowed deeply to his king, his spectacles falling from their place upon his nose.
"You summoned me your highness?" Sir Jones asked, the slightest whisper of arrogance and sarcasm hidden deep within his words.
"Oh, come off it Jones! What do you make of the Spanish king's intentions?" Arthur commanded, stopping once again to adjust his crown.
"I do not believe the king has wicked intentions. However, his followers may have very different intentions compared to their noble king." Arthur could not suppress the smile crawling its way to his lips. The young Alfred Jones speaking respectfully to him was quite the joke. The boy rarely spoke proper English, but in front of the royal court he had no choice.
As Sir Jones had always done, he decided to ruin Arthur's moment of triumph.
"Your swollen head must've shrunk when good ol' Antonio gave you quite a beating at sea." He muttered, loud enough for only the king to hear. His urge to hit his knight was suppressed by his crown, once again falling to cover his emerald eyes and bushy eyebrows.
"Sir Jones, you are excused from the court room." Arthur commanded, sharper than he had intended.
"My lord, may I stay for the duration of the messenger's visit? I have already expressed my concern for the Spanish king's people." Sir Jones replied, his head still down in a low bow.
"Jones, I will not repeat myself. As long as I wear this crown and am king I can care for myself, along with my country." Arthur proclaimed. Sir Jones left the court with a solemn face, the court ladies giggling flirtations as he passed.
It was finally time for the Spanish messenger to be greeted by the king. The doors of the grand hall swung open and a short man with a brown cloak entered the court. Not one lady nor gentleman of the court could see any part of this man, other than his cloak and the tops of his muddied boots. The man stopped in front of Arthur and spoke.
"I apologize, but I refuse to bow to anyone other than my king." The man said, with great gusto.
"I understand. Please dear messenger, what news from our friend the King of Spain have for my court and I?" Arthur asked, his face gentle with welcome. "Would you also introduce yourself? I would like to know who I will be treating to dinner tonight." The messenger was quiet for only a moment, then he shouted.
"My king has no news for the likes of you! Bastard, my name is Lovino Vargas and you wont have to worry about any dinner guests ever again." He threw his cloak aside and pulled a dagger from his side. One brown curl sprung out from Lovino's hair and the dagger aimed itself directly at the king's chest.
At that moment, all the ladies started to shriek and flail uselessly around the court. Gentlemen rushed past their peers, fearful of their lives. Guards poised outside found themselves pushed away by the mob of rushing nobility. When the passage cleared the doors slammed shut, barring any attempts to rescue Arthur, and trapping the king alone with the Italian assassin.
"What do you want?" Arthur commanded, clutching his wounded arm. The dagger had missed its target by mere inches.
"You're the bastard who turned my king into a weakling! You will pay for doing that to him!" Lovino shouted, lunging at his captive with blind fury. Arthur managed to parry with a royal flag stand. Steal met plated gold, once, twice. Arthur could only avoid the death blow; he was not a soldier nor a knight. He really couldn't protect himself. These thoughts distracted him enough that the flag stand, the only thing protecting him from his imminent death, was torn from his hands. Lovino sliced the flag in pieces before walking to his prey.
"With you dead, Spain can be the strongest empire once again." Lovino said sharply. Arthur, with no other options, shouted.
"Jones, save me!" No response.
"Shut up English bastard!" Lovino shouted kicking the defeated king in the teeth.
"Jones, please!" Arthur shouted again, again no response.
"What can an Englishman do if his king is this weak?" Lovino spat, lowering his dagger to Arthurs throat. To Arthurs great surprise, his assassin had a single tear welling in his eye. "Now Antonio will never have to cry ever again." Arthur took one last deep breath and at the top of his lungs he shouted.
"ALFRED!"
The dagger met flesh, but there was no cry. Lovino had only blinked, but when his eyes opened, a man in peasant garments was standing over the bastard king, blade clutched in his hand.
"Who are you?" Lovino shouted at the stranger.
"Sir Alfred Jones, Knight of England" The man said, wrapping one arm around the king, pulling the injured man close to him. "And Arthur's best friend."
"Bastard, I'll kill you too!" Lovino shouted as he withdrew the dagger to strike again. Alfred simply kicked the dagger away from Lovino, throwing his fist simultaneously at the Italian. His fist made contact, throwing the man backwards. Dumbfounded Lovino got up, scrambling to retrieving his dagger. He found himself with his neck only a breath away from the knight's sword. Alfred stood over the Italian with cruel eyes, the king still under one arm, held close to his body.
"Give up. You've lost." Alfred announced, removing the sword from Lovino's neck.
"How can you be his strong? You aren't even king!"
"The strongest among you may not wear a crown." Alfred recited, dropping his sword on the ground in order to lift the wounded king in his arms.
"I'm not done yet, bastard." Lovino mumbled as he charged at the knight and the king with the discarded sword. He lunged straight for the king, wishing only to kill those who made his king cry. Wishing to make them pay for what they did to Antonio, his Antonio.
His sword did cut. Alfred had once again protected his king. This time, with both his hands occupied, he could only block the blow with his own king's eyes open in horror as crimson tainted the blue tunic. The noble knight, run through by his own sword. He had lifted the king to save his life, exposing his own gut to the silver blade. Alfred fell to his knees, still clutching Arthur in his arms. Lovino, even with his success, felt empty. Why did he feel so wrong? They deserved this, they hurt Antonio! He backed away slowly from the knight. Soon his crawl became a sprint as he dashed for the doors. He was never heard from again on English soil.
"You bloody moron!" Arthur shouted as he escaped his knights grasp. Alfred could only manege a cough to rid his lungs of blood.
"Arthur, you're alright. That's good." Alfred said, eyes glazed over from pain.
"Idiot! What about you?" Arthur shouted, clutching Alfred's hand.
"Was I a good knight?" Alfred asked. Arthur's heart cracked at the sound of his voice.
"You're still an idiot! But you are a hero." Arthur still shouted, tears welling in his eyes.
"What kind of hero makes their best friend cry?" Alfred said, letting out a pitiful chuckle.
"You idiot." Arthur mumbled, trembling violently. Alfred's grip began to weaken on Arthur's.
"No! You can't die! What would I do without you!"
"Thank you." Alfred said as he slowly closed his eyes.
"NO!"
A/N:
Yeah I had a whole Shonen-ai scene after this but...It sucked.
Why does that always happen?
Maybe I'll post it for comedy's sake.
E/N:
It happens b/c there's no way Arthur would have that type of potion conveniently in his pocket .