Alfred spent the rest of the afternoon in an uncharacteristically quiet mood. He had come to Atlantis seeking answers, but instead he found himself asking new questions. While the rest of his peers had eventually decided that girls didn't have cooties after all, Alfred had remained indifferent to the fairer sex. He had retreated into his books and spent time with others who shared his passion. He had always assumed that his feelings for other men was a desire for close friendship. But on closer examination, he decided that friends didn't admire each other's bright eyes and soft hair and lean muscles. He felt like he had been given a key to a house that he didn't even know existed and he was excited and scared to find out what was locked inside.

He watched as the mysterious light source floating above the island slowly began to dim—answering one of Alfred's many questions about the lost city. Yes, the sun-like glowing crystal in the sky did mimic night and day. It was nice to have one answer, since everything else in Atlantis just raised more questions.


As evening fell, Alfred and the other explorers eagerly joined the Atlanteans for dinner on the beach. Feliciano provided pasta and marinara sauce while Angelique helped spear more fish to roast over the fire. Delicious smells wafted upward from the cooking fires, giving the gathering a festive air.

As tempting as the food looked, Alfred had other plans. He pushed his glasses up to get a better view of the crowd.

"Excuse me, excuse me," he said, ducking his way through the crowd as he searched for Arthur. For once, even the smell of tasty food wasn't enough to distract Alfred from his goal. He arrived at the edge of the crowd and spotted Arthur, carrying a platter of what looked like blackened charcoals and trailing behind a group of Atlanteans.

Alfred waved and caught Arthur's attention. He was pleasantly surprised when Arthur actually smiled at him and waved back. Most people quickly grew tired of Alfred's endless chatter about his academic research and hobbies, so Alfred was grateful that Arthur still wanted to talk with him. There was something he really liked about the Atlantean, although it was a hard feeling to describe. They sat together on driftwood at the edge of the beach, far enough away from the gathering that the sound of the waves lapping on the beach covered the murmur of the crowd.

"Would you like a sgonn?" Arthur asked as he set the platter between them and offered Alfred one of the strange briquettes. "They all disappeared at lunch, so I thought that you would enjoy some more."

Alfred gulped as he accepted the blackened food and slowly lifted it to his mouth. He wanted to toss it away, but Arthur was looking at him so intensely that he found himself bringing the food to his mouth. Alfred took a small bite and chewed slowly. He tried not to wince. It tasted just as awful as it had at lunch.

"Do you like it?" Arthur asked, leaning forward.

"It's uh... well, I've never had anything like it before," Alfred replied with a forced smile. "Is this what Atlanteans consider tasty?" he asked.

Arthur huffed. "Of course it is!"

"Well, it's... really... good," Alfred said, forcing himself to eat another one. If it was something that Atlanteans liked, then he wanted to enjoy it too! Still, he could feel the black lumps settling in his stomach like lead, and he wondered if the magical healing crystals would be able to cure his inevitable stomach ache. Hoping to look at anything other than the sgonns, he glanced up and noticed two women at the edge of the beach, holding hands and disappearing into the bush. "Where are they going?" he wondered aloud.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Didn't your parents explain sex to you?" he asked dryly.

Alfred coughed, nearly choking on the sgonn. He felt heat rising in his cheeks at the direct way Arthur approached the subject. Alfred had run across hints about the birds and the bees a few times in his 19 years, but it had always been in the context of 'when a man loves a woman,' never two women loving each other. And he still didn't understand what any of it had to do with birds or bees. "I was raised by my grandfather," he said softly, hoping that answered all of Arthur's questions.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, patting Alfred's shoulder sympathetically. "I lost my father in the cataclysm."

"That must be hard," Alfred replied, feeling a stab of guilt because he kept bringing up things that reminded Arthur of bad memories. He wondered if it would be possible to talk about puppies and rainbows for the rest of the evening.

Arthur shrugged. "No harder than what anyone else endured."

Life had gone on for the remaining Atlanteans. Compared to their glorious achievements of the past—spreading knowledge and exploring the known world—it was a simple existence. But the people were glad to be alive and even underground they seemed to have more than enough food and water to survive. Alfred wondered what role the Heart of Atlantis played in the island's continued survival. As he pondered these questions, Alfred forced himself to chew on the tough, crunchy sgonns.

While the explorers and Atlanteans continued to eat and mingle, he and Arthur ate through the entire platter of sgonns and by the end of it Alfred had never been so happy to run out of food in his life.

"I don't think I could eat another bite!" Alfred said with feeling.

"Then are you ready for some swimming?" Arthur suddenly asked. Instead of waiting for a response, he grabbed Alfred's hand and pulled him to the edge of the clearing.

Alfred sucked in a breath and felt a tingling sense of anticipation. Wondering what Arthur had planned, he followed the Atlantean through narrow stone paths to a waterfall on the other side of the island. He was somewhat disappointed when Arthur explained that he had found more murals discussing the Heart of Atlantis that he wanted Alfred to translate. Alfred hadn't been expecting anything in particular, but a small part of him had started to hope that Arthur was interested in more than just his translating skills.

Still, he decided that translating murals was also fun. Maybe if he was lucky he'd see more murals of men kissing. He really liked those. With that pleasant thought in mind, Alfred followed Arthur behind a waterfall, leading them to a hidden cave on the other side. Inside the cave, Arthur's glowing blue pendent was the only source of light.

"You can swim, right?" Arthur asked as he slipped off his toga, revealing the green loincloth underneath and giving Alfred a full view of his shapely derriere as he waded into the water. "The murals are above water, but we need to swim to reach the cavern."

"Great gams," Alfred said, without even processing what he was saying. He blushed and quickly stuttered, "I-I mean, I can swim, uh, as great...as a clam."

"Clams don't swim," Arthur said as he turned around. He gave Alfred a sly look, suggesting that the Atlantean wasn't fooled by the last minute word-swap.

"Well sure, not the cave sediment bivalves that are attached to the substrate, but a number of species of marine bivalve mollusks in the family Pectinidae swim just dandy," Alfred replied, easily slipping into academic mode. Remembering that they were supposed to be translating murals and not discussing sea life, he hurriedly slipped off his suspenders and trousers, revealing the dull gray boxers underneath. Finally, he added his shirt and glasses to the pile of clothes. As Alfred waded in the water, he hoped that Arthur wasn't judging him for his pale stomach and lack of muscles.

With Arthur leading the way, they dived together into the water. They swam through a short tunnel, going down and then back up again. Alfred found himself reaching the edge of his lung capacity. He gasped for breath when their heads popped above water on the other side. Swimming forward, he followed the light of Arthur's pendant until he felt his feet touch the bottom of the cave floor. The tunnel angled upward, taking them into a dry cave.

"Just like a grease trap," Alfred murmured to himself. He borrowed Arthur's crystal to light up the cave and then leaned in to read all of the words on the walls. Alfred grinned in excitement as he read the description of the Heart of Atlantis and the crystals that powered the city. He'd caught pieces here and there, but this was the most complete exegesis he'd ever seen on the subject.

"What is it? What does it say?" Arthur demanded.

Alfred could feel Arthur grow increasingly restless next to him, but he finished reading the entire wall before he answered Arthur's questions. "It isn't what I thought," Alfred admitted breathlessly. "The glowey sun-thing above the city is like the battery, but the Heart is what controls the power. These necklaces are little mini-conduits to the power and they let you control a small part of it too," he added, lifting up Arthur's necklace.

The next mural, located a little deeper in the cave, explained how the Heart of Atlantis could be used to transfer memories from one person to another. Alfred gasped in wonder, suddenly understanding how Atlantis had become a vast storehouse of knowledge. He excitedly explained it all to Arthur, who didn't seem surprised by the revelation.

"Yes, yes, it can transfer memories or remove them," Arthur said impatiently. "Does the mural say anything more about using the other powers?"

Alfred glanced back at the wall and read some more. "Not really. It does say that the ability to use the Heart is passed down the line of queens. And in times of danger, the Heart chooses a host." He paused. "It's weird, the mural talks about the Heart like it's, well, alive." Alfred eagerly continued to translate, excited to learn more about the city and its people. But he looked over at Arthur and could see this wasn't the answer the Atlantean was searching for.

The Atlantean scowled at the walls, as if he was angry at them for not giving up all of their secrets. There was clearly something Arthur wanted to know about the Heart of Atlantis, but it was hard to offer an answer when he didn't even know the question. Alfred knew he would gladly spill his secrets if Arthur directed that look at him. He found the other man's glaring expression to be strangely... cute.

"Maybe if you explained what exactly you're looking for, I could help you find it better," Alfred helpfully suggested. He thought that Arthur would brush off the suggestion. Nobody had much faith in Alfred, least of all Alfred himself. Yet instead of ignoring the idea, Arthur seemed to give it serious consideration. The Atlantean nodded once to himself, although he still gave Alfred a guarded look.

"Hmm. Yes, I am making this harder than it has to be. I think the Heart is connected to the cataclysm," he explained. "The bright light I saw during the cataclysm..." his voice dropped to a whisper, "I've seen it several other times since then. Once every few years I see the light and wake up in the rotunda with no memory of how I got there. Somehow I know that it's connected to the Heart."

Alfred nodded eagerly; he always felt excited when a particularly interesting puzzle dropped into his laps. Given the timing, he had long theorized that a volcanic explosion had destroyed Atlantis. Now he was starting to wonder if some larger force was at play. He eagerly began to lay out his plans to teach a few Atlantean children to recognize the letters that spelled 'Heart of Atlantis' and have them scour the island to identify all the murals with information about the Heart. Then once he read and translated them, they could interview people who remember the cataclysm and build a timeline. With a full understanding of the Heart's power, they would be able to develop a hypothesis about Arthur's mysterious condition.

Arthur coughed. "There's one constraint I haven't mentioned yet," he admitted. "The council is planning to send you away tomorrow."

Alfred blinked. "But... I thought they were happy to see us!" He gestured towards the beach where he had shared dinner with the Atlantean people. "Aren't we guests?"

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "Unwanted guests." His expression softened. "Don't take it personally. It's not you that the council fears—they're more worried about the information you could take back with you. The crystal and Heart are a tempting target for thieves and if we lost them..." Arthur didn't finish his last sentence. He didn't need to; Alfred knew that without the Heart the island would be destroyed by the next volcanic explosion. And given the differential passage of time, an explosion was sure to occur once every few years in Atlantis as centuries passed outside the protection of the glowing blue dome.

"Well... shit," Alfred said, feeling disappointed that he'd trekked all the way to Atlantis, only to spend just one day on the island. There was still so much more he wanted to know about the lost city and its inhabitants. Especially Arthur.

Alfred wanted to ask more about the council's plans, but he fell silent when they arrived in front of the strangest door Alfred had ever seen. It was a giant circle without a door handle or hinges.

"I've never been able to open it," Arthur admitted. He placed his hand at the center of the door and pushed. It refused to budge.

"Speak Friend and Enter," Alfred said, reading the Atlantean runes at the top of the door. He pursed his lips and decided that the literal approach was worth a try. "Okay, here goes. Uh, hello Mister Door. Could you let us in?" he asked.

The door stood silently.

"Please?" he added, remembering the magic word.

Still nothing happened.

At that point, Alfred noticed a small hole that looked about the same size as Arthur's crystal necklace. He inserted it and rotated the necklace, like he was trying to start a car. He and Arthur both tried to push open the door, but it remained firmly shut.

Alfred looked up at the four words and frowned. "Maybe 'speak' is a bad translation. It's more imperative... like 'say'. Say friend and enter." He suddenly laughed. "Fílos," he said. The Atlantean word for friend. They both stumbled forward as the door opened smoothly.

They crossed the threshold and found themselves in a tall cavern. Wavering blue light filtered into the room from a hole at the center of the ceiling. Alfred briefly wondered why Atlanteans liked blue glowing things so much. He also wondered why the shape of the room seemed somehow familiar. While Arthur cursed at the door under his breath for never opening for him, Alfred crossed the floor until he was standing directly under the hole. He craned his neck and looked up. He could see the dim sun-like crystal that floated above Atlantis through a tall pillar of water, which meant that they were standing directly under the round pool in the rotunda at the top of the island.

"Wow," Alfred murmured, wondering what prevented the water from pouring down on top of them.

"Less gawking, more translating," Arthur replied. Alfred joined Arthur and walked along the edge of the room and tried to find any mention of the Heart of Atlantis. He leaned close enough to read the text without his glasses. After he read a few panels he understood the purpose of the room.

"The entire history of Atlantis is written on these walls!" Alfred said excitedly. Behind him, he could hear Arthur slowly walking to the center of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, it looked like the Atlantean stood basked in light that glowed a little more brightly than it had just a moment before. Alfred dismissed it as a trick of the light. He rushed along the perimeter, quickly scanning the written history until he arrived at the most recent text. "In the year of the great rumbling, Queen Aliki fell gravely ill and prepared to pass the Heart to his son," he said, reading it out loud for Arthur. "As the people mourned, King Zabéta built a monument for her Queen, so that he would live forever in the people's memory." Alfred frowned as he reached a blank section of the wall. "That's it, that's the end." He thought it sounded a little confusing, and if Alfred was reading it correctly, the Queen was man and the King was a woman. Then again, Alfred had never been quite sure how Atlantean pronouns worked.

"We have forgotten so much," Arthur said. It sounded like his voice echoed across a great distance, something that the acoustics of the cave couldn't explain. Alfred turned around and stared in shock. He saw the other man standing in the blue pillar of light at the center of the room, his eyes aglow. "Something is wrong on the island," Arthur added, while Alfred continued to stare. "They are all slumbering. They should not be."

White wings sprouted from Arthur's back and held him aloft, hovering gently above the floor. Alfred's jaw dropped. For a few moments he just gaped, trying to figure out when Arthur had become an angel. Then he remembered that the Heart of Atlantis granted its people glowing energy and the power of flight. And the center of the island would be a secure place to hide it. He felt some of the puzzle pieces start to click into place. Yet if the Heart was appearing before him, that meant that Atlantis was in danger.

"Uh, hello," Alfred said, waving his hand and smiling uncertainly. "Am I talking to Arthur or the Heart of Atlantis?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Wow." Alfred had to stop himself from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet when it started to sink in that he was actually talking to the Heart of Atlantis. He was a researcher who had a chance to converse with his great archaeological discovery! Alfred also realized that this might be his best chance to answer Arthur's questions and his own. "Well, I can definitely go check on the people for you," he promised. "But first, uh, since you're here... if you want to shed any light on the cause of the cataclysm or Arthur's blackouts, that would be great."

Arthur shook his head sadly. "He is not safe here. Tell him that he must stay away from this cavern."

"Why?"

"Once fully merged, I cannot pull us apart," Arthur warned. "Promise you will tell him."

Alfred frowned. He wasn't particularly worldly-wise, but even he knew that 'stay away because I said so' wasn't an effective deterrent. After all, people had been trying to discourage him from pursuing Atlantis his whole life and it had never stopped him. He doubted it would stop Arthur either.

"Perhaps you are right," the entity admitted, as if it were reading Alfred's thoughts. The floating man fell silent and when he spoke again, it seemed to be with a different voice. "I tried to give the King what she sought. The effort left me weakened... and I failed in my duties. This tiny island was all I could save. I cannot let Arthur share his father's fate." Alfred could hear remorse and regret in the entity's voice. He wondered how one was supposed to comfort an ancient, mystical power source.

"As long as part of Atlantis survives, you can always rebuild," Alfred said reassuringly. Another idea occurred to him—a way he could help the people of Atlantis. "Listen, I want to help. You can transfer memories, right? Can you give them back the knowledge of their writing system?" he asked, tapping his head. "It's all right here."

The entity nodded. "Step closer."

Alfred followed the Heart's directions and found himself within the pillar of blue light. The transfer itself was painless, although he did feel a brief tickling at the back of his head. Task accomplished, he watched as Arthur closed his eyes and slowly descended. The young man's arms hung loosely at his sides and his head lolled back—he looked like he was sleeping. Arthur's wings disappeared just as his feet touched the ground. He swayed and Alfred reached out an arm to steady him.

Arthur's eyes blinked open, back to their normal shade. He gave Alfred a confused look and pushed him away. "What happened?" he asked.

"We found the Heart!" Alfred said excitedly. He ticked off the main points on his hands, trying not to forget anything. "One, it warned you not to come back here because bad stuff would happen. Two, the good news is that you should know how to read Atlantean now. Three, the bad news is that it thought there was something wrong with the people outside, and I promised to check on them so we should do that."

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "Is this your attempt at humor?"

"It's no lie. Scout's honor!" Alfred held up the palm of his hand like he was reading to swear on the bible. Then he pursed his lips and reconsidered. "Well, not actually Scout's honor. I was never a scout. They said they didn't take pansies, which is weird because I'm not a flower." He realized that he was rambling, something he did when he was really excited or nervous or both. "But the important point is that I'm not lying."

Arthur wasn't paying attention to his rambling. Arthur had frozen in place, staring at the writing on the walls. "The Heart of Atlantis rests in the arms of his king," he murmured.

Alfred frowned as he studied the words himself. "His king?" he asked. "I thought it meant her." Translating Atlantean pronouns was hard. Both seemed like strange ways to refer to an object, but either option was slightly less strange now that he knew that the Heart of Atlantis could assume the form of a person.

"I can read it," Arthur whispered.

"So can it mean his or her?"

"I can read it," Arthur repeated.

"His or her... and the Heart needs a host," Alfred said as he stepped closer to the wall. He'd always assumed that the Heart was an object, but now he started to realize that it seemed more like a person. He rubbed his chin in thought.

"I can actually read it."

Alfred barely heard Arthur's voice over the sound of his own thoughts. "What if the Heart is the Queen when she... he merges with the power of the crystal?" he wondered out loud, staring at the wall and wishing it could give him answers. "If the Queen was dying when the volcano exploded, the Heart wouldn't have been strong enough to save the entire chain of islands. Arthur, I'm starting to think..." he turned around and noticed that Arthur was missing. "Arthur?"

The American felt a sudden stab of worry, hoping that Arthur remembered the Heart's warning about the possible danger outside. He hadn't been very clear in explaining what had happened when the Heart possessed Arthur. Hoping to catch up with the other man, Alfred ran through the door, raced along the corridor, and swam through the tunnel, grateful that his eyes had adjusted the darkness. Once back inside the cavern hidden behind the waterfall, he saw that Arthur's green and blue toga was missing. Alfred hurriedly donned his clothes and glasses, bringing the world back into sharp focus. He immediately crossed under the waterfall and hurried to catch up to Arthur.

Gasping for breath, Alfred ran back to the beach along the narrow, vine-strewn paths. The city seemed strangely silent. As soon as he burst through the bushes, he felt someone punch him in the stomach. Landing on his ass, he looked up into green eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he looked out across the beach and he felt the blood drain from his face. The sand was littered with sleeping Atlanteans.

"What happened?" Alfred asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me," Arthur replied angrily.

"I'd say it was something in the food," Alfred suggested. "Probably a sedative... in the pasta..." He realized with a growing sense of horror that none of the explorers were among the sleeping bodies. He smacked himself in the forehead, remembering how Gilbert had been so insistent on sharing their pasta. The Prussian's actions had seemed generous at the time, but in hindsight they took on a more sinister tone. Alfred felt sick to his stomach. "Oh my god, I'm such an idiot. They were only interested in money and I led them straight to the greatest archeological find of the century."

In the distance, Alfred could hear voices approaching.

Arthur glanced up and pulled Alfred into a hiding place amongst the vines and bushes. He clamped a hand over Alfred's mouth before Alfred could ask what was going on. A few seconds later, heard Gilbert and Monika talking as they combed the beach.

"I told you we should have warned him," Monika muttered. She bent down and checked a group of people near the edge of the beach.

"He would have blabbed," Gilbert replied dismissively. He turned over a sleeping body with his foot, only to growl in frustration when the skinny blond turned out to be an Atlantean. "With our luck he probably fell asleep on his way to the bathroom. We'll have to search this whole godforsaken island." The Prussian sighed. "I thought we'd be able to leave without the others throwing a fuss. Hell, he'd probably be happier here anyway."

Monika snorted derisively. "Yes, he can look for some 'warm brothers'."

Alfred narrowed his eyes as he watched Monika and Gilbert disappear around a bend in the beach. He wasn't going to let greedy mercenaries abscond with priceless artifacts, especially not when they were stealing from a group of people still suffering the aftereffects of a terrible cataclysm. Alfred's grandfather had taught him about more than just Atlantis. He had also taught him the difference between right and wrong.

As soon as Gilbert and Monika were safely out of sight, the American stood up and determinedly strode toward the walkway that would take him across the rope bridge and out of Atlantis. He needed the find the other explorers before it was too late.

"They went the other way," Arthur called as he jogged to catch up.

Alfred didn't turn around and he didn't stop. "I know," he replied. "But whatever they took will be stored in the trucks, and I bet I can convince the others to give it back."

Arthur looked at him in surprise and then grinned ruthlessly. "Do you have a plan?" he asked, bending down to grab a spear that was resting near some fishing equipment.

Alfred thought for a second. Despite his serious misgivings, he knew that he had to do the right thing, even if it wasn't the smart thing. He gulped. "Yeah. Don't get shot."


. . .


Author's Notes

Oh hai there random LOTR and Vision of Escaflowne references.

"Warmer Bruder" (warm brother) is WWII-era German slang for gay men. It's somewhat derogatory. Schwul is the nicer term and it originally meant "sultry, hot, and humid." I hope someone has written a GerIta story about this :)