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To love someone is to put all of your trust into that person.
"Master Alfred, you know that Master Kirkland does not want you to do that."
The bright-eyed boy spun around in his tidy, clean, unmistakably English clothes to face the maid who was talking to him. It was Abigail, the woman who had helped bring him up in the absence of his older brother.
"But Brother isn't here, Miss Abigail! Come play with me!" Alfred urged anyway, dismissing her serious tone. If Alfred really wanted someone to play with him, by God, he would get what he wanted. And fast.
"Master Alfred, it is not a good idea, Master Kirkland will be returning any day now," Abigail insisted, reaching for Alfred's toys. They were little boats crafted out of sticks and leaves—rather complex, for his thirteen-year-old body. A boy who was forced to be a shut-in by his older brother's order.
"I don't want my little America getting close to anyone else. He may only depend on me!" Abigail winced at the recollection of her Master's words. She was the only maid he allowed to care for his little brother, and only because she had been working for the Master for over thirty years.
Alfred slapped the maid's hand away. "Why wouldn't Brother want me to play with toys? All of the other kids play with them!" he whined.
Abigail resisted the urge to roll her eyes before she launched herself into the all-too-familiar routine. "Master Alfred, those children aren't like you. One day, they will grow old and die, and they only live because of you. You won't die, if you stay close to Master Kirkland and act like a good colony. Okay?"
But Alfred didn't let go of the toys. Instead, he scrunched up his adorable round face, then scurried away from the old maid, leaving her with the rest of the twigs that were scattered on the hallway floor.
Oh dear, why is Master Kirkland so obsessed with that boy? Abigail thought with a sigh as she began to pick up the carefully crafted sticks. He's nothing but trouble.
Suddenly, the door slammed open. "Alfred! Guess what Big Brother got for you from my victory over those stupid French and Indians!" A slight pause. Then, the expected question. "Abigail, where's my Alfred?"
(A/N Oh, and might I reemphasize that I wrote "my victory" when Iggy was talking? Yep, I'm letting Kirkland-sama give himself allllll the credit for the French and Indian War, because in this story, Iggy's gonna get a taste of arrogance. And he's gonna like it.)
"Master Kirkland, welcome home. Master Alfred is in his room, with a few toys he made from twigs found around the house. Do not worry, though, I have collected most of them," Abigail replied. But without fail, she felt an ominous presence looming behind her. She felt the all-too-familiar strike on her neck slam her down onto the ground, crushing the boats in the process.
"You imbecile, have I not told you to keep him from doing those kinds of things? My God, woman," Arthur seethed, giving the poor maid a final kick in the side. Then, he stalked off to find his brother.
Abigail slowly pulled herself into a crouching position. She rocked herself back and forth, trying to forget about how much her Master had changed after he met that little boy. Alfred. Yes, Alfred was what had changed her beloved Master, the reason she had continued serving under him even after her seven years were through. Because she had fallen in love with that selfless, breathtaking Arthur that stole the gazes of even devoted married women. She had fallen in love with the Arthur before Alfred.
And what would you do…keke…to get that Arthur back?
"Alfie! Look now, see what I have got for you!" Arthur exclaimed, bursting into Alfred's room without so much as a knock. He froze when he realized what his sweet little angel was doing.
Alfred was swooping a pile of entwined twigs through the air, making swooshing noises and laughing happily. Then, finally, after a few seconds, he noticed his older brother.
"Ah, Brother! You're home! Welcome back!" he laughed, still smiling his—even then—trademark megawatt smile.
Arthur was still frozen, hand on finely crafted doorknob, feet still in the doorway, stuck. His Alfred was having fun without him, imagining a life without him, laughing at the fact that Arthur wasn't there to enjoy the moment with him.
How dare that bitch let him get away with this?!
Arthur finally let go of the knob when Alfred's smile faltered. "B-Brother…?" he asked, his voice innocent.
"Alfie…what do you have there?" Arthur asked, his tone inconspicuous. But he made sure to keep his head down to keep Alfred from seeing the madness-induced rage flickering across his face.
Alfred's smile returned twice as brilliant. "Oh, these? I made them from twigs, so we could play together!" he replied, holding him up as if to give Arthur a better view.
But Arthur wasn't really listening to Alfred. He slowly stepped inside his little brother's dimly lit room and quietly shut the door behind him. He had been planning this for a long, long time, but had wanted Alfred's body to mature before then. But this…this couldn't go on. This maddening feeling of holding back. It had happened before to other countries—his sweet little brother could rebel.
And what would Arthur be left with? A feeling of regret? No, he'd fall completely to madness by then.
This time, when Alfred's smile faltered, it didn't return. "Brother…are you okay?"
Arthur slowly approached the boy, so conveniently perched on the bed with his idiotic sticks. "Yes, Alfie, I'm fine."
"Wh-what did you want…to show me?" Alfred tried, finally sensing the threatening mood.
Finally, Arthur arrived at the edge of the bed. He sat down, and pulled his brother tightly to his chest.
"A-Arthur…?"
At the sound of his name, plus his sudden feeling of letting go and Alfred's closeness, he could have moaned. But he held back…Alfred was too wary of his Brother right now to allow that freedom. Arthur would have to calm his little Alfie down.
"I won, you know that, Alfie? I won that French and Indian war for you! Now I can move you west of the Appalachians, and I can help you expand further! Won't that be fun?"
Arthur grinned as he felt Alfred relax in his arms at his words. "Yeah!"
Got you.
Well, who doesn't love a little cliffhanger? Don't worry, hopefully (kekeke) I won't be one of those authors who don't get back to their cliffy for months. ^^