Knight
2
Ashy smoke blew into the boys' faces. Tanned, callused hands waved it away and covered coughs, the two squinting at the masked man in front of them. Turkey tapped his cigar, bits of smoldering paper falling to the stony ground below.
"Boys," Turkey gave a slanted smile. "It's been a pleasure."
America grinned back. "Likewise." In a way, he enjoyed Turkey's obnoxious, sarcastic nature.
"Oh, yo, and when you meet England," called out as the two pushed open the large wooden doors and met the glittering midnight snow, "smack her on the ass for me!"
"Right! Ow!" Australia rubbed his arm where America hit him, watching as the younger stalked off. "What's got him in a tizzy?" he mumbled to himself, leaving blemishing footprints in the once perfect snow.
It seemed like just yesterday Egypt had tasked them with saving the lost Princess of Spades. Months ago, not a soul in or out of the Kingdom had a clue where she could have been, which ended up being the reason Spades had invited the other kingdoms to partake in their festivities. One minute, everyone was applauding and cheering and pouring champagne. Then the guests blinked and opened their eyes to muskets in their faces, receiving horrified looks from the knights-in-training next to Egypt. Guards surrounded the Kings and Queens of the other kingdoms and the entirety of the kingdom of war stood by and smirked.
Well, almost the entirety of the kingdom.
At any rate, upon learning that not even Clubs knew anything of where the tower Saxony stowed her child in might be, many of the intellectuals of the Kingdom and some of the Deck devoted themselves to finding any hint to England's whereabouts. They poured themselves over maps, books, and old documents, analyzed all of Saxony's speeches and diaries after the Princess' seclusion, and tore up the rooms of the Royals. Meanwhile, the knights-no-longer-in-training were taught to leap trees in the forest, interact in the towns, deal with enemies of all kinds, navigate the high seas, and, even if they didn't know it then, the importance of being wary of magic. No one in the Spades Kingdom but Romania knew anything about it, or believed in it for that matter, but when the two had gone to speak with him to hear out what he had to say about the subject, they left with sweat beading on their foreheads, pretending they weren't afraid of it and didn't believe.
"Your biggest enemy, if you are to encounter them, will be the Jokers."
Romania held two cards in his gloved hand, each painted with an impish face. America and Australia each took a card and looked at it pensively.
The man in front of them blew a flame the color of his hair between his fingers, and it danced across the table illustrating the image of the two Jokers. The heroes met the blood-red eyes of a smirking devil that laughed at them. His friend, who looked nothing more than a mere child, tumbled forward, giggling mischievously, and the two ran off to break vases, ruin relationships, and pester Kings and Queens all in the course of twelve seconds. The two watched in apprehension as Romania spoke over their thoughts.
"These two are nothing but trouble, spread nothing but mischief, and if it seems that they are willing to do a good deed or help you out, they have an ulterior motive. Always." America's brow furrowed, etching the image of the enemy in his mind, his chest constricting at hearing their high-pitched laughter as the flame flickered out.
"Avoid them at all costs."
Turkey may have been an old man, and a crude one at that, but he was well versed in the art of war and survival and proved his worth as the boys' mentor. America was ashamed to admit it, but he would actually kind of miss his company.
China was to join the two on the expedition as an escort, but Egypt had second thoughts at the last minute and grabbed his shoulder before the group left to pack, grunting his disapproval.
The Jack understood why he was needed back at home, and explained to his upset friends in their quarters afterwards.
"We already have two missing cards in our deck and our best knights are leaving for who knows how long," China said. "If I left, the castle would be attacked."
"How do you know?" America challenged from the top bunk of the bed, his arms folded around his pillow.
"Everyone wants a piece of the Spades Kingdom. At the slightest sign of vulnerability, Russia will pounce. You know that."
America pouted into the soft face of the pillow. His friend sighed pitiably, and ran his fingers through his black hair.
"Sorry, but it's just you two this time." China smiled. "You know, I really believe in you. There's no doubt in my mind that you will find England and return safely. Since Australia is with you, America, you can't do anything too stupid."
A soft pillow crashed hard into China's face from above, followed by peals of laughter. China jerked the pillow from his face, growling and throwing it back up the bunk at America with the intent to hit him. Unfortunately, the knight was a little too quick for the petite Chinese man and smacked it before it hit him, causing it to jet to the floor again and hit China in the stomach. The roommates laughed as they all began to maul each other with the fluffy weaponry.
Two hours later, America and Australia fell back onto the bottom bunk of their bed. Cloth and feathers littered the room like confetti. China had collapsed on the floor, snoring lightly. America volunteered to carry him back to his room, but Australia shook his head, insisting that China would be happier if they left him as is.
They snickered together, resting their heads on their arms.
"I can't believe this is it," America whispered to the brunette opposite him.
"Yeah. It's… unreal."
"I know. This is the last time we're all going to be together for pretty much forever."
"Man, don't say that!" Australia hit America in the face with his pillow playfully, receiving giggles from the younger knight. "It makes me depressed."
"Me too," America sighed with a sad smile. "I understand why he can't come, but it doesn't make it fair."
"Why do you say that?" Australia lifted his foot in the air and tapped the bunk above him.
"Because we could be gone for a year and, y'know, I don't want another reason to miss home." A rock seemed to settle in America's chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He didn't even want to think about being homesick, even though it was inevitable. He knew the first night alone would be the hardest, and he was dreading it.
"I know." Australia yawned, his eyes struggling to stay open. "I know."
America ended up not being able to sleep a wink, and when the others awoke, he moaned a hoarse good morning that made them wonder whether or not he was fit to leave.
It honestly did not matter, as they had spent the majority of the day receiving all kinds of items. Hong Kong and Macau had given them the collection of their research, which amounted to maps with marked locations, special legends, and a compass that always pointed in the direction of home instead of North. Mongolia presented them with armor; Romania gave them a magical charm that neither of them knew what to do with.
"Oh, it will come in handy." The redhead had said with a tip of his hat, but the knights failed to understand the importance of his words.
They were given all the practical items: sleeping blankets, fire starters, water, rope, lanterns, enormous bags of raisins, nuts, and dried berries. These were stuffed in packs that the boys slung over their shoulders, thanking the subjects that gifted them.
They then walked out to the front of the castle, and stopped dead in their tracks at the sight that unfolded before them. In front of the open gates stood a line of guards and in front of those guards amassed what looked like the entire Spades Kingdom.
"There's gotta be like three hundred people out there," America breathed, his eyes widened in surprise.
"More like three thousand mate," Australia responded, his thick eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. The two were ushered along and plunged into the excited blue and black crowd. Words and sounds of every decibel thrust at their ears, and America pondered whether or not he'd discovered the feeling of claustrophobia. They kissed babies, shook hands, received blessings, and promised they'd return with the impending Queen.
Over the white noise and the fleeting introductions, one meeting really stuck with America. America noticed him in a clearing, the out of place child with big, green eyes. The boy jumped around, trying to catch a glimpse of the action. His little cap and baggy clothes did him no favors, constantly tripping him and falling off. America was charmed by his childish awkwardness and weeded his way through the curious crowd to kneel beside him. The boy was overwhelmed as the knight flashed him one of his perfect bright smiles, and started to speak with him.
"Hey there," America said gently.
"H-hello," the child mumbled, his own little smile climbing onto his face. "Are you… America?"
The American chuckled at his nervousness.
"Yup, that's me!" He replied, his usual energetic attitude kissing his words.
"Don't laugh! It's just that…" The boy seemed to burst with emotion. "You're gonna be a hero! You know that? A real hero! You're going to save the Princess, aren't you?" The boy looked up at the American shyly. "I want to be… just like you someday..."
America blushed at this confession and grinned widely. He ruffled the boy's hair and, for the first time all day, gave someone a sincere look.
"You can be a knight too someday. Who knows? Maybe I'll be your commanding officer. Do you want to know the secret to being a hero?" The child looked up at America, and saw the fire of determination in his blue eyes.
And he believed.
"What?" He asked admiringly.
"No matter what you decide to do in life, if you work hard and dream big, you're going to be a hero too. Don't ever forget that."
At last, it was time to get dressed to leave. The silence pooled around the knights as they put on their armor and stuck their swords in their spade-spackled sheaths. They exchanged encouraging smiles as they left the knight's quarters for the final time and were seen off by the castle inhabitants.
And now they were here, trekking through the snowy midnight air to saddle up the horses and begin their journey.
"You got the map?" Australia breathed, a white puff of fog materializing his words. He saddled up his black stallion, petting his side as he buckled the seat on.
America had already mounted his horse and seemed to be in a daze. His eyes were absolved of their usual spark, and he hadn't a fraction of a smile upon his lips. "You aren't really going to touch England, right?" He mumbled.
Australia lifted his hands in surprise and defense. "Of course not! I was just teasing, you know."
America slid his cobalt eyes to the left and stared critically at Australia. Brown met blue in a battle of dominance, and in the end, Australia's sincerity shone through. America smiled gently.
"I believe you," He whispered, understanding enveloping and comforting them. "Hell, you're my best friend!" He laughed, relieved.
"I'll take that as an apology," Australia grinned at his friend. "Why were you being so protective, Mr. Jealousy?" He threw one if his long legs over the horse, lifting himself up onto the saddle.
"Jealous? Who am I to get jealous? She's not even mine!" America smirked. "It was a matter of etiquette." He waved his hand back and forth, indicating its pettiness.
"Honestly, I don't get it. We haven't seen her in years and last I remember, she wasn't really that cute." Australia adjusted the golden reins in his hands. "Putting those eyebrows on a girl is a crime."
"You're one to talk, look at those monstrosities." America jabbed playfully, pointing at Australia's own furry eyebrows.
"Hey, these are dignified!" Australia laughed. With a flick of his wrists, his horse began to trot out of the stable, shaking his long black mane. "So! Let's have an election, eh? I nominate you for position of Official Navigator! Going once?"
"What? No way! I'll be way to busy doing hero stuff! You know, like saving damsels in distress, beating up bandits, that kind of thing?" America tapped his horse with the side of his boot, and she walked slowly outside beside Australia. He scratched her gently in between the ears, straightening out the blanket he had put under his saddle because he knew she got cold easily.
"I can beat up bandits too, you know." Australia snorted, earning a laugh from his companion.
"Oh please, don't act like everyone in the castle doesn't know you used to be a criminal. Heads up." America extracted the yellowing map from the sack on his horse and tossed it to his friend. Australia did not fail to catch the delivery or return America's comment with a nasty look. America just smiled and snapped the reins, his horse galloping into the glossy snow.
"And a damn good one at that," Australia retorted, leading his own horse in a gallop in front of America's.
"Hey!" America blurt, his voice flecked with insult. "You just cut me off!"
"Yeah, well, I have to be in front if we're going to know where we're going, mate." Australia ripped out the map with a flourish and held it in one hand, slinging the navy sack of presents around his chest and digging in it. A long chain dangled from his rising hand. He looped the chain around his neck, the spade-adorned compass tapping back against his chest.
"Alright," he began, scanning the yellowing map with his eyes. Unfolded in front of him was the outlining of the Spades Kingdom, rivers and routes running through it. The islands dotting the border touched each corner of the map, and among them Australia found his own homeland. He smirked, touching it, remembering how exciting his life was as a pirate and a thief.
He stole and drank and sailed until he went a little too far and broke into a Card's family home. He was swiftly beaten and finally captured. Thrown on his knees in the throne room, he was brought in front of her Highness, the Queen Saxony for judgment. Australia lifted his head up, scowling, only to have it replaced with a look of utter confusion at who was sitting in the throne.
A young, spiky haired girl?
He presumed it was a girl, since she was wearing a dress. But she had little of the graceful femininity expected of a girl, much less a princess. Her legs were not crossed, but her arms were as she sat in the gold encrusted chair lazily. Her emerald green eyes were not upon Australia, but the window above as if she wished she could fly out of it into the clear, blue sky. The guard cleared his throat and she, startled and flustered, straightened up and tried to look authoritative.
"Ah, ah, um… State your business." She mumbled.
"Ah, yes, well," The knight gave the reigning princess a skeptical look as he began to list. "This criminal is brought in front of the kingdom to be judged for the following crimes: Larceny, Burglary, Grand Theft, Robbery, Possession of Stolen Property."
"Wow, you just couldn't keep your hands off of other people's property, could you?" The princess laughed. Australia wasn't sure whether to be offended or intrigued. He raised an eyebrow, to the revelation of the princess who ceased her laughing and simply nodded continual.
He couldn't help his smirk. She was definitely interesting. What royalty paid mind to the thoughts of a criminal?
"What is the sentence, your Highness?" The guards stood attention again, unfazed by her impropriety. England straightened again. Her eyes darted around the room, thoughtfully, until she caught the azure eye of a child in the door. The eye gasped and disappeared immediately, making her grin knowingly. She turned her attention back to the criminal in front of her who bowed his head with the same, ever-present smirk on his face.
"Am I," she began, never taking her eyes off of the kneeling criminal, "supposed to kill him?"
The guards looked at each other in disbelief. "You are the one who is to make the decision, your Majesty. It's protocol."
The knight beside Australia sighed in exasperation, but patiently answered, "Your Highness, death or imprisonment are normal punishments for a criminal of his caliber."
Her arm dropped to her knee and she gazed pensively at the tanned man in front of her. He was knocked back by her stare and met it with wide, surprised eyes. Seconds passed as the staring contest unfolded, finally ending with England breathing out and smiling deviously.
"Train him."
"What?" The knight almost jumped in astonishment.
"He's an orphan, too, who steals to live. I can tell by his rags. He hasn't had a pair of new clothes in ages, or seen a spool of thread for that matter." She huffed sternly at Australia's bewildered look.
'How did she know that?' Australia thought, amazed.
"He's not a bad person, at least, not that I've been proven to believe. Make him a knight, stick him with the worst of your chores, give him the toughest master we've got, and if you find him making one mistake, misplacing one fork, leaving one stray hair uncombed, throw him in the dungeon. We need someone who knows thieves and pirates." She stood up. "And I guess I have a bit of a sweet spot for orphans."
The knight sputtered questions of what her mother would do after her, much to her annoyance, but the words just flew past her as if nothing more than a gentle wind. The guards just stared at her in utter shock and incredulity, watching her march out the door and immediately shift all of her attention over to the snooping boy at the door. A big smile dawned his face, but quickly melted into tears as she tugged at his stray strand of hair and scowled.
"America, what did I say about sneaking around when I'm busy?"
Australia felt his own face twist in skepticism.
What royal was ever… compassionate?
'Then again,' he shrugged, 'she is a girl.' But some inkling of warmth sneaked inside him that day that made him wonder whether or not his whole life he'd been running from the wrong people.
Australia smiled at the memory, one of the only good ones he had of the unlikable princess. Truthfully, Australia didn't understand how America idealized England like he did. Last he could remember, she was grouchy, unattractive, uncooperative, unladylike, far too quick to anger, unable to deal with any other emotion besides anger… The list went on so far, Australia laughed under his breath.
He traced the route of a small river to the castle with the pad of his finger.
"Alright, I suggest we start by going through the field in front of the castle and following this river, Hymal, into this forest here," He said, pointing out what he was talking about on the map to America. "We'll stop by Sheraton as we pass through, sleep there; maybe eat something other than seeds." The map snapped up into Australia's hand. His other hand swooped down and snatched the reins of the horse. With a loud neigh, the horse's hooves began clicking swiftly down the icy cobblestone path.
"You're the boss," America hummed with a smile. Flicking his wrist, he beckoned his horse out of the gate and into the arms of the starry night sky.
End Chapter 2.
A/N: Hey there guys! I apologize for the late update, but I got grounded for sneaking out, so they will be sparse for a while. It isn't what it sounds like though!
On the subject of the chapter, do you like the Australia/America bromance? My reasoning will reveal itself in due time. This ended up being more of Australia's flashbacks than I really wanted, but the adventure finally starts next chapter!
So until then, adieu. Sam
