Arthur's eyes fluttered open. The sun was streaming through an open window. He tried to sit up but stopped when his chest screamed in pain harmoniously with his head. He groaned and pressed his hand to his forehead, only to find a bandage wrapped around it,
"Bloody hell?" he lifted the thick quilt off of his chest to see bandage wrapped tightly around his body, from his neck to his waist. He looked around the small room and realized that had no idea where he was. He just sat there for a moment, trying to remember why he was in this strange place. A door sat in the corner of the room. Curious, he carefully swung his legs over, placed them on the smooth wooden floor, and tried to stand. At first he wobbled a little, but was soon able to stagger over to it and creak it open. A fire crackled in the fireplace and it warmed the room pleasantly. The smell of pines and wood smoke filled his nostrils and made him feel like he was home, in his cottage in the English countryside. Before he could walk into the room, however, a man around his age entered the room, carrying a white blouse and black trousers that Arthur assumed had just been hanging out to dry. The young man's dark blonde hair stuck up in one place, and he was tall and lanky. He was folding the outfit when Arthur shifted his weight on a loose floorboard. The man whipped around, and his crystal blue eyes lit up when he saw the Loyalist standing there. He bounded over to him, an impossible smile on his face,
"Arthur! You're awake! How are you feeling? You should sit down," Arthur tried to back away from the unfamiliar colonist, but he caught the gaze of those beautiful blue eyes, and his memories of that freezing night rushed back,
"Alfred," he whispered. A sharp pain shot through his head, he slid against the doorframe to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, and resting his forehead on his knees. Alfred knelt down in front of him and touched his shoulder with a concerned look in his eyes. They stayed like that for sometime,
" How long was I asleep?" Arthur asked,
" A couple days," the Rebel stared at the floor, " it was terrifying. You were so close to death that night. I wasn't sure you would ever wake up," he looked back up at the Loyalist, " but you did, and for that I am grateful," he placed the clothes in front of Arthur, " Put these on and meet me through the door by the fireplace, by the stables," he stood and turned to leave,
" Are we going somewhere?"
" There have been reports of British scouts near town. It's best for us to leave, me being a 'Rebel', and you being injured," Alfred turned again and left through the indicated door by the fireplace. As soon as he left, Arthur's face flushed a deep red. He couldn't stop thinking about how strikingly beautiful the Rebel was, with his wire spectacles that rested in front of his perfect, crystal blue eyes that were sometimes covered by his soft, dark blonde bangs. The smitten Englishman threw the close over his old, torn-up trousers he had on, and quickly staggered outside. The little snow that hadn't melted danced in the early sunlight, as if it were rejoicing the coming of spring. The stables were framed with stunning rolling hills and a cloudless sky. Standing next to the stables, was Alfred, wearing his still bloodstained navy jacket, with Checkmate and the grey stallion that he was riding the night they met. When Arthur reached the trio, he was given a matching jacket, minus the blood,
" Why did you give me a Rebels jacket?" he asked with a little bite in his voice.
" We're passing through some towns that have been ravaged by Red Co- I mean, British soldiers. If they know that you're British, we won't live past sundown," Arthur slid his arms into the sleeves and clasped the jacket closed. The two mounted their horses and left the cottage that reminded him of home forever.
The sun was touching the horizon when they stopped for the night. They hadn't spoken the entire ride, solemnly riding through destroyed towns on blood-splattered roads, until they reached the inn that they were tying their horses up in front of. It startled Arthur to hear Alfred's voice,
" Continental soldiers stay here free. My platoon often stayed here," he said as they entered the inn. Alfred nodded his head at the innkeeper and started up the rickety stairs. Arthur closed the door and was starting up the stairs when the innkeeper spoke,
" 'Ey you! I 'aven't seen ya' here 'fore!" Alfred stopped halfway up the stairs and glared at the innkeeper but spoke to Arthur,
" Arthur, don't talk to him. Come on,"
" Alfred! I 'aven't said nothin' improper!" the innkeeper stepped towards the confused Brit, " I just wanted ta introduce meself ta this 'andsome young soldier," he grinned and started to reach for Arthur. In seconds, Alfred had reached the two, grabbed Arthur's hand, pulled him behind his back, and had a knife poised at the innkeepers throat. Snapping the knife back into its sheath, the Rebel left without a word, pulling a shocked Loyalist up the stairs behind him,
" Ya always 'ave been protective of those ya care for!" the innkeeper shouted up the stairs after them. Alfred answered with a slam of the door.