AUTHOR'S NOTE:for those who had yet to start this, let me inform you that the M-rating is for future chapters- like really really late chapters and not for smut only, but mostly for gore and blood and the whole dark side of this story. Also the USUK here is not that of a happy, dilly-dallying relationship- as in you may see the characters paired with others... so YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Toodles!;)
The calm storm:
The sound of crickets still ringed in his ears, along with the beautiful singing of the lake fairies albeit the dreadful murmurs filling the room making his heart throb. The birds had been unnerving that morning, tapping on his window until it scraped, then filling his room with so much ruckus that his elder brother stormed into the room- slamming the door- and practically catapulting the poor things into the willow tree beside his window. Yet the fairies were friendlier than ever, which made him suspicious, and the rabbits down in the garden let him pat them- even hold one on his head. But when his daily and most beloved companion Arya didn't show up, he became worried that something had happened to the country.
The Kirkland manor was surrounded by vast lands that most belonged to his father, cut by a shallow river and marked with little but a wooden fence; after the river the land belonged to his late mother, where they were marked by an eerie forest that seemed to have been there forever. Within that same forest was his own little magical kingdom; it was swarming with fairies and wraiths and magical animals; one of which was his very favourite yet least seen: the unicorn.
His mysterious friend always had the answer to everything that he asked, and now the boy was more than sure that he had an answer to what had happened. Yet this time he needn't go to him, the moment he turned to head for the river he was cut by his father's loud voice calling after him.
"Arthur! Come here now child!"
"Look at him, playing with his imaginary friends like an idiot."
"Oh don't say that they're imaginary, they're magical creatures. Yet yes, he looks like a fool standing there staring at us."
"Boy! Yer father is calling for you! Come!"
His brothers were talking amongst themselves, and from their snickers he could tell they were sneering at him. His father looked stern as usual, but it seemed that what he had in mind made him a bit more intimidating, something must've happened. The last time he felt his father this heavy was when his mother died, and the others didn't even notice.
He moved cautiously around his father into the house as he had instructed him to- his brothers following lead quickly. Arthur was the youngest of four brothers, which did him little in getting what he wanted. His family valued achievements, buff men and hard work; and Arthur had little chance to impress his father when his brothers had done everything before him. Nothing he did impressed his father, especially since all he was good at was magic, art and literature, and because his body was small and thin unlike his brothers' strong build, his father ignored him even more.
Once when he had revealed his magical ability to his father hoping he would be a bit pleased with him, maybe be proud if Arthur had hoped much, he broke him down. His father looked at him dully, as if he had shown him a tree branch, lifted his hand to rub his temples then exhaled deeply- all the while never lifting his gaze off of Arthur.
"After all of my proud kin, my Matilda dies for this? For Magic?! I thought that you had gone and done yourself something useful, but what to expect from a flimsy child as yourself. You know Arthur; I sometimes wonder if you are really my child, if it weren't that I took you from your godmother's hands and that you looked like a copy of your late mother, I wouldn't allow it."
Arthur cried a lot back then he refused to eat or talk to anyone, which only made his father angrier, till his eldest brother- Scott- came in and jerked him off the bed, made him eat and ordered him to go and apologize to his father. Since then, Arthur found it best to become invisible as he wasn't welcomed in his family. Things were different for Arthur before his mother died, she was the only one who loved him and her love influenced them all- even if a little, but when she died life turned straight to hell. He was the reason his mother had died, he gave her a tumour after he had been born and only four years later she was dead, his father and brothers despised him, they tried to be away from him as much as they could, which gave him too much time alone to befriend the maids and magical beings.
This, somehow, was different than that time. It was more…how to say, Formal, Even though their family meetings weren't that much cosy, this had the air of something bigger, not only relating to the family.
When all were seated, his father cleared his throat and stared, shockingly enough, straight at him.
"My boys, today we have been sadly informed that our King is dead."
Short, faint gasps filled the room, and he felt his second brother- Richard- grip his armchair tensely.
"We know this is a bad time for our king to die, but we must- as the family that is entrusted with law- keep our word and work to keep the kingdom's peace till the Jack takes control."
"But father! How could we do this? The kingdom is at worse right now, The Clubs are waiting for a chance to steal our trade paths and block down our economy, and do you know what that means father?"
"Scott, calm down! We know we're in a tight spot, but panicking would do us no good. Father is right." Richard turned to face father. "We are responsible for the order of the country now, the queen must be broken, and we need to be there for her."
Arthur's family is full of law prosecutors, the Kirklands have always been responsible for editing and putting down the common rules and laws for the people of the Spades kingdom. They were the Keepers, the record keepers. Now, they are more than obliged to go and calm the people.
"F-father..." Arthur shyly tried to talk amidst his brothers' fiery argument. His father somehow heard him and silenced the others.
"Speak Arthur." He said it bitterly, rather annoyed of his intrusion.
"Um, Excuse me for asking Father, but what if the queen dies of grief as well, as I have heard she was the one expected to die first not the king, won't the Jack have to replace both of them and tutor the young king?"
"Yes, that would be troublesome for him, which is why we are there."
"-But what if other families beat us to the Jack, if not perhaps to help him rule but to tutor the king."
"Yes, that then would be troublesome for us. The king would side with that family, rather than ours. Tell me what you are pointing at Arthur."
"I-I'm not sir, I just wanted to ask, because you seemed so enraged by it and I just wondered if it would do us much harm as the Kirklands."
"It would Arthur."
"Another question father if I may?"
"Go on." Arthur breathed happily, his opinions were taken well and his brothers were silent and thoughtful as he spoke: he was going the right way with his conversation.
"You said the Clubs kingdom were after our trail right? What if they found a way to reach the queen and steal some secrets while the kingdom is in havoc? They could send spies or an ambassador to the queen under the excuse of the king's death, and spy on us."
He stared at Arthur distantly, clearly thinking of what he had just said.
"Also father, what if the king didn't die normally? But of a conspiracy put against him?"
"Enough Arthur, you have said good thoughts till now. There is no possibility that anyone would've conspired against the king. If there was anyone who could or that would profit is the council and I know them, they are loyal and would do no such thing."
Arthur felt himself melt in shame under his father's charging glare, he had gone wrong again. The trust that his father showed him went as fast as it had come. He lowered his head and shadowed his eyes, fixing them on the sweaty hands resting in his lap.
"I apologize, father. I didn't mean to insult the council. Forgive me."
"You are dismissed Arthur, go on to your business."
"Yes Father."
His brothers stared momentarily at him as he rose and walked out, eyes still casted downwards, with his head bowed.
He had ruined his chance to impress his father once again, yet this time was not as bad as the other- he had actually gained his attention for instance.
Arthur strolled out of the room rather happily, unlike previous experiences, and went straight to his room. He had been taught violin and piano when he was little- violin by his mother and piano by his aunt from her side. His mother's family was very much like Arthur, frail and gentle, they loved literature and arts and embroidery- they were thinkers. Even Arthur's looks were very much like his mother, with her straw-coloured hair, peridote eyes and soft pale skin.
Now, he felt like grabbing his violin and heading for the forest: He had enough of his family for one day. Before his mother died, family time had its taste and calming aura; now it was politics and family business and plans since all what's left was men. Arthur felt himself very much effeminate between his brothers and father, and was sometimes treated as a girl.
He could still remember vividly how his brothers made fun of his taste in stories, and how he wanted to learn embroidery or even his choice in musical sheets and called them 'cheesy' and 'romantic' and how they used to call him 'princess eyebrows'. Yes, the only visible thing he inherited from his father's side was his huge thick eyebrows that looked greatly out of sync with the rest of his delicate features- even their dark colour that reflects with his hair and eyes, making them stand out even more. His mother used to like his eyebrows, and call them 'cute' and say that he looked like a rabbit with them (though there is no connection, but meh mothers). With the days he had come to ignore their existence, well that until somebody made fun of them, in which he would flush bright red and start snarling back insults at them.
Sadly Arthur didn't have the finest mouth in comparison to his family, he was easily angered and very rude in his feedback, insulting the very hair on the other's chin if he had any (or not- doesn't really matter). His late mother tried to fix early habit of mild swears and had instructed the family not to swear or curse in front of him, but they couldn't keep their promise fully after she died, and some words slipped here and there, and Arthur took interest in those that he found in books.
Now- leaving all that- we return to Arthur and his trip to the forest with his violin. As he walked towards the river, Arthur hoped to see a sign of Arya- his magical friend- but had been let down when he didn't. He crossed the river with little expert jumps from one rock to the other, taking care not to get his clothes wet. He thought he would find her there, if not, then the panic will start.