Title: Constellations
Summary: '"Oh mon cheri, how long have you been sleeping like that?" Francis whispered as his fingers brushed lightly through Arthur's unruly hair.' Francis/Arthur.
Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.
Warning: Slash, don't like don't read.
A/N: Sorry for those who want to see 'Toy Soldiers' updated. The computer with the documents on it for the next two chapters has been taken from me so I can't finish them. TT_TT. Never mind. I'll do this for the time being until I can steal the laptop back. Happy reading!
Arthur glanced up at the night sky. His nation was in darkness as he emerged from the royal castle and entered the enclosed royal garden. The night air was refreshing for him. Inside the castle the air was stuffy, a reminder of the summer heat of the day before. Sleeping in his room had been impossible. He had tossed and turned, the heat not letting a moment's peace possible.
Now out in the cool night air, he felt a slight breeze encircling him, wrapping around his ankles and ruffling his long night shirt some. The grass beneath his feet as he walked was pleasant while his eyes remained on the sky, admiring the constellations. Draco, Capricornus, Lyra, Indus, Scorpius, Sagittarius and Vulpecula; all the constellations he expected to see during the summer months. They had spread themselves out across the dark expanse of the night sky, making him gaze at them in awe and wonder.
Looking down, Arthur stepped off the grass and onto a path; his foot falls light and silent. His way was lit a little by the lantern he carried, a small flame encased within it. Holding it up in front of him, a faint light was cast, cloaking him in a faint orange glow. His emerald eyes captured some of the light and reflected it, giving him a mystical look as a small smile graced his lips and an air of curiosity and delight became apparent as he looked up at the sky once more.
The land around him was silent and at peace. Occasionally an owl would sound, its call homely and its presence soothing.
Upon reaching the centre of the garden, Arthur sat down on the side of the water feature. The sound of moving water filled the air and Arthur was sat with his side facing it, his legs drawn up, his finger tips brushing through the water gracefully. He could feel the water moving between his fingers as he made patterns, his face one of tranquility and peace.
His ears were alert for any sound of movement that would indicate someone was approaching him. None came though, and Arthur soon felt that with the cool night and the soothing sounds surrounding him, a heavy fatigue began to over take him. Loosing the battle to keep it at bay, Arthur removed himself from his seated position on the wall of the fountain to sit on the floor next to it. The wall was not very high and Arthur found it to be at the right height for him to fold his arms on it and rest his head. His intentions had only been to rest his eyes, but within moments he had slipped away from the conscious world and into a world of his own; a private world that only existed when he slept.
As Arthur slept, his mind at peace, the night began to give way to morning. The night's reign was coming to and end and the darkness retreated from the advancing light. The sound of movement and someone approaching sounded in the air, but Arthur did not hear the sounds that he had been listening for hours previously. He remained unmoved from his slumber, his mind filled with magical creatures and laughter.
A cloaked figure appeared and approached the sleeping nation, his moves smooth and his footfalls now soundless. Kneeling, he pushed a dark hood back from his face, revealing golden waves of blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Carefully placing an arm around Arthur's back and another under his legs, he lifted the slumbering nation up and placed him in his lap as he sat on the fountain's wall. Arthur's head came to rest on the man's shoulder, his blonde; bird nest like hair mixing with the man's straight, silk like blonde hair.
"Oh mon cheri, how long have you been sleeping like that?" Francis whispered as his fingers brushed lightly through Arthur's unruly hair. "Forgive me for being late, but our meetings are secret and must remain that way." Francis smiled an affectionate, yet sad smile. "I know you understand."
Francis sat with Arthur in his arms for several minutes, admiring not the beauty of the sunrise, but instead the beauty of the young man who had stolen his heart. Francis admired the curvature of his jaw, his smooth, pale complexion, the peaceful expression and his light weight as he held him in his arms. Francis had come to live for these meetings. War had divided them, cast them onto opposing sides, their rulers requiring them to wield swords against one another and to shed the others crimson blood, wanting them to stain the ground red with it. Francis had found that he could not do this. He could not wield the sword against Arthur. On the night the war was declared, Arthur had convinced himself to act, to pretend as though he wanted to kill Francis in cold blood, but on the sight of Francis he had broken down sobbing, pleading for mercy to be taken on his aching heart. Francis had held him tightly to his chest and shushed him until the tears had stopped flowing and the muffled sobs had faded. Francis had told him that he could not lift a finger against him, let alone a weapon of war. Arthur had kissed him, desperate for their time together never to end.
To part meant to become enemies.
Neither could not bear the idea of separation and, upon the feared ending of their last meeting, Arthur had trembled as Francis told him of his outlandish idea of how to see one another for as long as the war continued. Arthur had listened with great interest, desperate for some hope to cling on to. It was decided upon that the first Sunday of every month would be their time to meet.
The war was now in its seventeenth year.
Francis stood from his seated position and, keeping Arthur securely in his arms, began to walk back to the castle. He had to be silent for fear of discovery, but his memory was sharp. He had walked those hallways many times in the past and Arthur's room had not changed location. He eased the door open and slipped in while carrying the still sleeping Arthur in his arms. Francis laid him down in his bed and pulled the thin covers up to his chest. Arthur muttered something under his breath before turning onto his side, messing up the covers and causing Francis to give a light chuckle.
The Frenchman reached into his pocket and brought out a small package. He placed it into Arthur's open hand sticking out from underneath the covers and gently closed Arthur's fingers around it with his own hand. Scribbling a quick, unsigned note, he placed it by Arthur's blonde crown and kissed his forehead lightly before departing, vanishing before unwanted eyes started to open with the dawn of a new day.
Arthur awoke as the sun crept across his bed; bring him back to the conscious world. As he stirred, he felt the parcel in his hand. Blinking back sleep, Arthur sat up and remembered about the meeting. He felt tears sting his eyes. He had fallen asleep.
Looking at the package through blurred vision, he opened it and produced a beautiful emerald pendent and chain. Arthur eyes widened in shock, Francis had left him jewelry? Looking to his side, he saw the note resting on the pillow. Picking it up he began to read it.
Arthur,
Seeing you sleep as you were at that fountain is a painful reminder of what I have to live without. You were so beautiful it would have been criminal for me to have woken you, though reading this you would disagree. As always, my dear Arthur, you disagree with me.
My present to you … is it enough to say it reminds me of your eyes?
Oh, dear Arthur, how I have missed you. Till next month, my love.
Arthur didn't realize he was crying. Tears silently rolled down his face and dripped onto the cover below as he kept re-reading the note, over and over, his heart crying out in agony for Francis to be next to him, to take him in his arms and to make love to him, to whisper sweet nothings in his ear and to smile at him, the smile that always made his heart skip a beat
Seventeen years… and the war still raged on between the two nations.
Slipping the chain over his head, he admired the emerald in his hand before placing it under his nightshirt, resting against his heart and out of sight. Folding the note, he kissed it before climbing from his bed and burning it. He could not run the risk of someone finding it.
Wiping away his tears, he watched paper burn before resigning himself to another month without his beloved. Clutching the emerald pendent through his night shirt, Arthur sighed sadly before preparing for another monotonous day.
He knew the war had to end some day.
He just didn't know when that day would be.
End.
A/N: I know some of the constellations mentioned are modern, aka, Vulpecula or 'The Little Fox' which was created in 1687 (if my knowledge serves me correctly that is). However, I couldn't resist a young Arthur with his emerald eyes search the sky for them. The image was way too cute to pass up. ^o^.