Alfred sighed, staring out from the balcony at the growing sunset. The life of a prince was boring, all you did was sit on top of a throne all day, waving at every visitor and guest, the same plastic smile plastered on your face as you faked your happiness for those uptight little pricks. He hated his drab, grey life as much as he hated boring, cold Russia, so white and sterile, like an insane asylum.

Sighing again, the prince took off his shiny, golden crown that on any other day would have made him happier than anything. Objects and possessions no longer appeased the blonde's hardened heart. He wanted love, true love. Not the love his parents longed for him to have. He didn't want to woo and marry some boring princess; she would just tie Alfred down. Besides, he was more into men anyway. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he was going to burn for it. Alfred only wanted someone strong, who he could rely on when the situation needed him to. A prince couldn't always be a hero.

Alfred set the crown in a decorative box that his parents gave to him for his last birthday. Closing the box gently, the blonde fell onto his oversized bed and fell asleep instantly…


Outside the palace walls, a dark figure roamed about groping against the wall for something. His silver hair shone in the moonlight and his bright, ungodly, crimson eyes glowed evilly in the darkness. When his pale hand reached a certain spot, a clicking sound was heard and the wall opened up slightly to reveal a narrow passage way. He chuckled quietly, knowing he had just won a victory over the royal family and their minions.

He stalked through the hallway, ignoring the repulsive brown walls that gave off the pungent aroma off rotten eggs and soured milk. Torches lit his path, their red flames causing the man's shadow to dance across the walls and floor. There was movement in his navy cloak until a fuzzy, yellow head popped out, chirping loudly.

"Hush, Gilbird! We are nearly there! Soon, we can have that unholy creature out of our home and we will be free! Just be quiet…" The bird refrained from answering and disappeared back into his master's robes.

Finally, the pair came to a small, wooden door that let them into the castle. The albino shouldered past and snuck anxiously to a far wall, avoiding the gaze of some palace guards. He glided gracefully up stairs, through secret passage ways, and across a stone bridge until he came to Prince Alfred's solitary rooming tower. In a flash of sudden silver, the wizard appeared in the blonde's room. He carefully took the sleeping boy in his arms and disappeared once more, away from the castle, and to his soon to be freedom…


"Alfred, Alfred time to get up." A boy who looked identical to the prince stood outside his door, the bright afternoon sun causing him to squint. He finally grew tired of waiting and busted the door down with immense strength. He stepped into the stone building without hesitation, urging a small white bear to follow him. The room was decorated with elegant tapestries, exquisite drapes, and the finest furniture in all the land of Russia. The boy sighed, his room was far less prestige, plainer than most. Of course, Alfred was always the favorite child. It was always "Prince Alfred this" or "Prince Alfred that," the boisterous teen being the apple of every eye. Prince Mathew was always the one who sat in the background, his being invisible to all but Alfred himself. Alfred always remembered his younger twin, but he never had the time to acknowledge the boy. And even if he succeeded, Mathew knew that no one would pay attention to the other person Prince Alfred was talking to. It would only be a passing glance, the spotlight shone on Mathew only for a brief moment, and then everything went back to Alfred.

But Mathew wasn't jealous of his brother. He never could be, even if he tried his hardest to. He knew that it was strenuous to be royalty.

Mathew stalked past the chairs and sofas until he reached the bed, a large lump under the silky covers. The prince snatched the fabric off the mattress and stood shocked as he saw that Alfred didn't lay there, but instead a clump of pillows. Mathew stumbled backwards, falling to his knees. He clutched his head in his hands and started to hyperventilate. Alfred wasn't there. Where was he? What should Mathew do? What could he do?

The blonde scrambled to his feet and raced towards the main castle, leaving a sputtering polar bear in his wake.

"Mother! Father!" Mathew wheezed as he busted through the large doors to the throne room. Guards suddenly took hold of him, restraining the prince from being able to get to his parents.

"Guards, who is this?" The queen piped up from her gilded seat. She tugged at her long, curly hair that shone golden in the sunlight that peered through the stain glass windows. Her mouth was overturned into a playful smile, one that told her husband that she knew all along who the prince was.

"Um," One stuttered. "I don't know Queen Frances*" The queen's smile turned into a displeased frown as she motioned for the guards to drop the boy and leave. Doing as they were told, the guards carefully set the blonde in front of the thrown and shuffled angrily out of the room.

"Thank you, mother. I have terrible news. Alfred has been… he's been… kidnapped." The king spasmed a bit in his throne before he leaned forward to stare his son in the eye.

"WHAT?"

"Yes, I went to his quarters this afternoon to wake him, but he wasn't there!"

"How do you know he wasn't out for a stroll?"
"Arthur, you know he would be in the dining hall first thing! I checked and he wasn't there!"

King Arthur* sat back in his chair and sighed loudly. "We need to find him." His voice bordered the line of calm and "I'M TOTALLY GOING TO FREAK THE BLOODY HELL OUT!"

Mathew nodded and dug around in his pockets. "Kumajirou found this," He said quietly, handing the note to his father.

Dear Eyebrows,

I have your beloved Alfred. I wanted to invite you to his royal wedding, to the Gorynych. I hope you can make it~

Yours truly,

The awesome Gilbert Beilsmidt

The king put his head in his hands and turned away from his wife and son. The Gorynych. Perfect. The hideous beast was known far and wide around the world. Its three fire-spitting heads were known to torch its enemies to a crisp. Its seven thrashing tails would decapitate you in a moment's notice. And Prince Alfred was betrothed to it.

"What do we do, Arthur?" Frances asked, her voice cracking as she fought tears.

"Tell everybody. Whoever slays that horrible beast will have all of my riches, and may marry either of my sons if they wish. Just get the word out."

So the knights of the palace rode all across the land, spreading the word of the Gorynych. Men from all areas of expertise came day by day, claiming to be the one who would rescue the prince and be the next heir to the throne. And each day, those brave knights disappeared into the mountains, never to return.

Every face, voice, action of those who volunteered to slay the Gorynych were all burned into King Arthur's mind. The first, a young man with long, girlish blonde hair and an annoying voice came barging into the throne room. "I'm like totally gonna save that uber cute prince!" He rode away towards the Gorynych's lair, but failed to return. Next was a tall Spaniard with brown hair and an odd fetish for tomatoes. "I will gain those riches for mi tomate! Maybe then he will finally say yes to marriage!" And again, he was smote to the ground. Then it was a girl with mousy-brown hair and a fierce attitude. Arthur had hoped, really hoped, that she was the one. But wasn't strong enough, and she was burned alive.

Frances cried every night, and neither the prince nor the king could comfort her.


Ivan was a palace guard with a talent like no other. He could understand any language and understand the speech of animals. Except ducks. Ducks weren't smart enough to say anything except quack. One night, Ivan heard two crows talking.

"Hey Raivis!"

"What is it P-Peter?"

"You know how the prince was captured by the Gorynych?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Well, I heard Tino saying that all the knights going to save him were idiots because they were looking in all the wrong places, giving the Gorynych time to find them and fry them! Tino said that the prince was in the highest part of the castle, in the last tower!"

"P-Peter, can w-we stop t-talking about t-this? It makes me uncomfortable…"

"Fine, wuss…"

The two crows flew off, leaving a smirking Ivan in their wake. The native Russian had already known about the Gorynych, the reward, everything. When he heard of Prince Alfred being kidnapped, he gritted his teeth and tried to turn away. But he couldn't. Ivan's rivalry with Alfred was known across the land, and most would think that neither would care if the other would die. Not true, actually quite the opposite. If you payed attention to them, you could see the small smiles they wore on their face when they passed each other in a hallway. If Alfred saw Ivan standing outside the throne room, a small blush would cross his face. If Ivan saw Alfred in the dining hall, he would mumble something about the blonde being adorable and walk away.

Ivan sighed, remembering the day when Mathew introduced Ivan and Alfred "officially"

Mathew looked at his tall friend. His platinum hair glittered in the morning sun and his amethyst eyes shimmered with an emotion the prince couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it… excitement? The prince couldn't really understand his Russian friend, but since Ivan was one of the only ones able to see him, Mathew learned to just deal with it. Mathew tugged on Ivan's arm and tried to drag him down the hall. The Russian followed silently as the petite blonde in front of him apologized in advance for his boisterous brother.

'Huh,' Ivan thought. 'He probably doesn't know about Alfred's hate for me…'

The pair reached Alfred's bedroom door in no time at all. Mathew knocked violently on the large wooden door.

"Hold on!" An obnoxious voice came from the other side of the door. It soon unlocked and opened up, revealing a flustered Alfred still in his silk pajama pants. His bare chest caused Ivan to blush and quickly hide it in his favorite scarf.

"Hey Al!"

"Mornin' Mattie."

"I wanted you to meet my friend Ivan!"

Alfred's eyes bulged out of his head and he stood protectively in front of his brother. "Leave," He commanded.

"Make me,"

"Al, what are you doing?"

"Mathew, get inside."

"What? Why?"

Alfred turned to his twin, a deep set glare on his face. Without saying another word, Mathew turned, walked into his brother's tower, and closed the door. He put both hands on Ivan's chest and leaned closer to the other's face.

"If you try anything with my brother, you will regret every moment of your miserable life, fucker." A dark aura surrounded both men as the Russian started to say something that scared every person in the castle: kolkol. Alfred smiled eerily as he inched closer to his rival's face until their lips crashed together violently. A smirk crept up to Ivan's mouth as he wrapped his arms around the blonde. When they disconnected, the prince panted heavily, pushing the other away. "Watch your back," Alfred whispered before opening the door to let his brother out. Mathew came tumbling out, obvious that he was trying to listen to their argument.

"Ivan, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Do not worry little Matvey, your idiot brother has done nothing to cause concern. Let's just leave." Nodding in agreement, the blonde pulled Russia away from the stone building and into the castle.

Ivan sighed blissfully, putting out his bedside lamp and closing his eyes. It started to snow quietly outside, the swirls of ice looking like dancers. Full of beauty and grace.

The next morning, a young woman with short, platinum blonde hair like Ivan's bustled about in the kitchen, rushing to make breakfast for her younger brother and sister. She silently stalked over to Ivan's bed, caressing his cheek as he slept peacefully.

"Mm, good morning Katyusha…" Ivan whispered quietly as he woke to the sight of his sister, much like every morning.

"Good morning, brother. I've finished making breakfast. Fix yourself a plate as I go wake Natalia." Her brother nodded and sat up. He rubbed his eyes blearily as he got out of bed and went to the kitchen. Fixing himself a plate of meat, he didn't really care what kind, he sat down and ate hungrily. When Natalia came into the room, Ivan washed his plate and barged out of the cottage door, yelling out a quick "Bye sisters!"

Natalia frowned angrily. "Katyusha, why does Brother not love me?" Katyusha bit her lip nervously, feeling uncomfortable in her current situation. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"He does love you, sister."


"Well he's being too shy about it. I am going to follow him to the castle." The girl then rushed out of the cottage, leaving her older sister to stare fearfully at her retreating figure.

Alfred stared silently out his tiny window, the streaks of early morning light touching his face. He missed his home, his real home. Not Russia, but England. He missed the rainy days that threatened the island country most days. The beautiful Springs with fields of colorful flowers spanning many acres across the land. The gentle snow that would sway gently down to the ground, not the battering blizzards that come down in massive sheets of ice here.

The sound of metal scraping against concrete brought Alfred out of his thoughts. The albino wizard that kidnapped the prince smirked in a cocky manner that rivaled Alfred's own.

"I brought you some food." The blonde didn't respond. Gilbert sighed in exasperation, balling up his ivory fists in anger. "Fine, if you think you are too good for this gruel, then you don't get to eat it." Gilbert slammed the large metal door and stalked off towards his own quarters, ignoring the pain that resonated throughout his knuckles. "Ungrateful, little, palace brat!" He muttered before the Gorynych's roar caused the Prussian to run in the direction it was coming from.


"Your Majesty," Ivan's thick accent dripped heavily from every word, causing the king to groan quietly. "I am here to volunteer to save Prince Alfred." Queen Frances' eyes lit up as she nudged her husband in the ribs.

"Oh, well then, good luck…" King Arthur droned, hope void from anything he said or did. The queen nudged him again, this time with more force.

"Arthur, I think he might be the one!" She whispered excitedly. Arthur only shrugged. "Come on Arthur!"

"Fine!" The blonde muttered irritably. He stood and trudged over to the wall. Whispering a few words that Ivan couldn't hear, a compartment opened up, revealing a shining sword with a paranormal atmosphere about it. "If you really think he can stand the power of my sword, then let him have it!"

The king ripped the sword out of the wall and tossed it over to the Russian. It flew to his large hands, immediately giving the tall man trouble. The weapon wriggled and moved, trying to leave Ivan and get back to its true master. Tightening his grip on the hilt, the Russian jerked the sword away from the thrones, trying to gain control over it.

He tried pulling it over his head, catching sight of some odd lettering on the blade. Latin. It had to be. The weapon tugged again, making the letters disappear. With remarkable power and strength, the palace guard pulled it towards the window, making the light shine off the blade.

"Sit tibi terra levitas***" He growled. Suddenly, the sword became calm, and let Ivan hold it closer to admire the blade. The queen looked over at her gaping husband, smirking victoriously.

"I told you!" Arthur rushed over towards Ivan, tears of joy pricking at his emerald eyes.

"You've done it! Someone besides myself can use this sword!" Arthur beamed. The Englishman shook Ivan's happily, pouring words of praise about the Russian's conquering of the sword.

"Go!" Frances yelled. "Go save our son!" The tall man didn't have to be told twice, he ran out of the castle, towards the mountain, and into the Gorynych's lair…


Gilbert sat on the ledge of his balcony. He enjoyed the cold wind that graced his face gently, it reminded him of Germany, his little brother, Ludwig, whom he was ripped away from long ago by the Gorynych.

"Gilbert!" A small boy with slicked-back, pure blonde hair was sprinting towards his older brother who was being pulled forcefully from his small house. Tears streaked down his pale face as his baby blue eyes flickered with fear. Gilbert held both hands out to his brother, hoping the boy could save him in time.

"Ludwig!" The albino screamed. The strong tailed wrapped around his waist tightened, causing the man's breath to hitch. They started to take off, the harsh winter air whipping at Gilbert's face. Ludwig's figure started to grow smaller before the boy disappeared entirely from the Prussian's sight. He closed his ruby eyes tightly, not wanting to think, feel, or even live. Tears fell freely now as Gilbert's consciousness slipped.

Suddenly, Gilbert didn't like the wind anymore as he turned to walk back into the castle. Before he could, though, a tall figure running towards the castle caught his eye. A trespasser! The albino ran furiously down the steps towards the large foyer. His eyes gleamed with anger as he transformed himself into a giant.


Ivan burst through the door of the castle, relishing in the fact that no enemies had come for him yet. His smile quickly fades away when his gaze shifts to the giant towering over him. With a malicious snarl, Gilbert tried to crush the Russian. Said male was trying his best to not get stomped on until he took refuge in a small closet. When he regained his bearings, he burst out from behind the door, wielding the sword protectively in front of him. It flew from his grasp, leaving the Russian to twitch angrily. Gilbert started laughing hysterically until the weapon pierced his heart.

He fell, his body regaining its normal size. The sword undid itself from the Prussian's body and flew itself towards the top of the tower. Ivan followed, stumbling and falling occasionally. When he reached the top, he watched as the sword flew into the eye of the Gorynych. Ivan frowned. That was easy. Too eas- He was suddenly pinned down to the ground, sharp claws digging into his chest.

The Gorynych wasn't dead! Shit… Ivan flailed his limbs at the beast, trying to get away from it before it could torch him. Its body reeked of sulfur, causing the Russian to hold his breath. His lungs were about to burst until something made the beast catapult off of him. When Ivan looked up, he saw Prince Alfred, panting and sweating as he held the struggling sword in his hand. Sitting up, Ivan called the sword back to him.

"Alfred…" Standing up, the tall man wrapped his arms around the boy. Alfred returned the hug and kissed the knight back tenderly. "Let's get you out of here." Ivan picked the blonde up and started the long trek back to the castle.


As the snow fell silently, Gilbert stared out at the night sky. He really did make a mess of things, didn't he? Pieces of furniture lay strewn across the room as chunks of the roof lay in heaps. Blood covered Gilbert's chest s he waited to die. It wasn't fair; he never wanted to be a wizard. His magical soul would stay alive longer than it should have, especially after the Prussian was stabbed in the chest. He closed his eyes tiredly as he tried to let sleep overtake him. A hand shook him awake before he even had a moment's rest. Gilbert's eyes popped open to see a pair of baby blue orbs staring back. The figure's hair was gelled back so it would stay out of its face.

"Brother?" It was a man. Gilbert moaned softly. "Brother, it's me, Ludwig." A faint smile crossed Gilbert's lips as he took in the sight of his baby brother once more. His golden locks glowed in the moonlight as his strong arms hooked themselves under Gilbert's back and knees.

"Ludwig, I've missed you."

"Shh, Gilbert, I'm taking you to a doctor." Gilbert didn't say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes and pulled out a vile of glowing, red liquid. Ludwig took it gently from his brother's hand and popped the top off. He let his older brother drink it slowly before he pulled the albino closer.


Colorful lights were strewn across the castle as people from every part of Europe celebrated the return of Prince Alfred. Ivan had declared that he was going to marry Alfred, and the two spent the evening dancing and singing and having a good time.

At one point, Alfred pulled the Russian into a room and snuggled next to him on the bed. They spent the rest of the night talking, whispering comforting words, and just enjoying each other's presence.

"Ivan," the blonde finally broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the two. "I love you."

"I love you more…" Ivan whispered before he crashed his lips against Alfred's.


*Frances is the female version of Francis

**Bwahahahahahahaha! Pun intended!

***It's Latin for "May the earth rest lightly upon you"