Tricks
Francis looked at the sleeping blonde he held in his arms. He had always been adorable, but his sleeping face always stirred something deep inside Francis. When Arthur's bushy eyebrowed brow wasn't creased in a frown and he looked so pure and innocent. Of course Francis had been at war and fought Arthur numerous times and knew he wasn't innocent or pure. Still he looked almost angelic in the morning light leaking through the curtains. That thought made him smile and hold Arthur closer. His eyes closed but flew open when he felt Arthur snuggle against him.
"Êtes-vous à l'aise mon doux petit ange?" Francis asked softly closing his eyes ready to go back to sleep
"Très." Mumbled the half asleep Arthur who lazily half opened his eyes
A silence filled the air. Suddenly Arthur bolted up right, the duvet of the bed slipped off of him and the cold morning air hit Francis hard on his naked chest. Francis grimiced slightly. However he smiled and propped himself up on his arm to look at the furious looking Arthur.
" So you do remember 'ow to speak French?
"Cut the crap frog, why where you holding me like that?" Arthur snarled
"Moi? Et was you who snuggled against me mon cher. I would 'ave 'ad trouble prying you off even with a crow bar." Laughed Francis
Arthur flushed. He hadn't expected himself to act that way. Oh he hated Francis, but at the same time couldn't live without him. The two would be lost without each other. Was that why he had clung on to him in his sleep? Had his real emotions of such need for him caused him to glue himself to him? Preposterous! He was a proud Englishman who didn't need the useless French... ok well maybe he did. Still it was hardly his fault if the idiot had made a connection with him since his birth.
"Shut up, if my brothers-"
"Whuars tha aboot yer us Albion?" Sneered a voice
The bedroom door began to open, and with a speed that was defiantly inhuman, Arthur leapt across the bed, over Francis, and pushed the door closed and lent on it. Francis allowed himself to snicker while Arthur frowned at him. A surprised curse word was heard from the other side of the door. Arthur panted and gazed around the room for inspiration on how to escape this situation with his rather large pride still intact.
"Albion, who yer got in thuar? It is noo a fae because yer noo be actin like this if it whuar." Asked the bewildered brother on the other side of the door.
"Shut up! You don't know that! Perhaps it is one of the fae, and we're hiding something from you. Why am I even explaining myself to you? I'm a full grown nation and the most renown one of us in the family! Now bugger off will you?" Snarled Arthur
"Well whatever you are boiling up in the casting room is boiling over." Said another curious voice
Francis looked horrified in Arthur's direction. Arthur was cooking something? But his horror could not match that of the pale wide eyed Englishman. If Francis had not seen him teasing him and perfectly healthy seconds before he would have thought that Arthur was terminally ill. Arthurs eyes momentarily flickered in the frenchmans direction. Francis watched as Arthur darted out of the door and slammed it shut behind him.
His two elder brothers, the eldest with the red hair and his twin with slightly longer hair than him, stood stunned as Arthur bolted past them towards the casting room. Both brothers hesitated outside Arthurs door trying to dare the other to check who was in there. However Arthurs strange behaviour concerning the casting room made the two brothers leave and follow him.
Both paused as Arthur slung open the casting rooms door. Green smoke with gastily images and spirits in its tendrils spewed out of the room. Arthur covered him mouth and coughed as he dove into the smoke. His brothers paused at the door way. Cymru poked curiously at a spirit in the smoke and Alba tilted his head thoughtfully before grasping a handful of spirits in his hand and crushing them as they screamed in pain. Alba walked up to the door frame and leant in on it. His green eyes flashing and could be seen even through the smoke. He watched as Arthur picked up the iron cauldron with rune designs in emerald by its rim and put it on a work bench. By then the toxic dark green goo that had been oozing from it had stopped.
"Dinnea tell mah tha yer ta one scarin him shitless? Ah am noo surprised though." Alba sighed
"Yeah, especially after we found two plane tickets to Paris in your dresser." Said Cymru as he walked until he was standing next to Alba
"What the- Why the bloody hell where you looking around in my room?" Bellowed Arthur
"Dinnea change ta subject."
"Yeah, you made a fear potion so that you could get together with Francis huh?" shrugged Cymru
"I did not! Just... you know...to get him to believe in magic." Arthur explained
Neither brother believed him. It might have had something to do with the fact that Arthur was staring at his feet as he had said that. Or maybe it was the red blush tingeing his pale cheeks. Either way the brothers knew that Arthur was lying and that Cymru had hit the nail right on the head. There little brother, Arthur Kirkland, was probably the most conniving and controlling of them all. They would have been more impressed with his skill if wasn't so unsettling.
