On the way to Matthew's (and Alfred's, Arthur supposed), Alfred pointed out different shops and described their owners. He often spoke of personal experiences with them, recounting many misadventures that kept Arthur giggling under his breath. As they walked, the townspeople gave Alfred funny looks. Arthur wondered why. Perhaps Alfred usually sided with the rebels? His previous ignorance of the existence of the rebellion contradicted that, however.

Once at Matthew's doorstep, Alfred flung open the door as if he owned the place. Which he at least partially did, but that didn't excuse the horrible shock the man gave to his brother.

"Alfred!" Matthew yelled after he had recovered. "Ever heard of knocking!?"

Alfred ignored Matthew and pulled him into a bear hug. "I missed you, little bro!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I missed you, too."

Alfred released his brother, and Matthew turned to face Arthur. "I see you two have met," Matthew noted.

"Indeed we have," Arthur replied, smiling slightly. Alfred's joy was contagious, it seemed.

"Well, now have a fine little problem," Matthew said. "There aren't enough rooms. Al, Arthur's been in your room with two other lieutenants. You're gonna have to share with me."

Alfred nodded slowly. "I could go stay at the blacksmith's," he suggested. "Tony loves having me over."

"Actually, that won't be necessary," Arthur chimed in. "The other lieutenants are moving out." This was his other reward for good information. "It'll just be me here, now."

"Well, we still don't have much room for everyone, although that does help a lot. Someone will have to share," Matthew stated.

"I don't mind sharing with Arthur," Alfred said. "I know you don't like sharing your room ever since Francine..."

Matthew nodded quickly, cutting his brother off. "Arthur, if that's alright with you."

"That's fine," Arthur replied. "I don't mind at all."

"Then it's settled." Matthew clapped his hands together. "Who wants tea?"

"Not me!" Alfred sped out of the room. His footsteps could be heard as he ascended the stairs. A door slamming confirmed that the man had holed up in his room.

"Looks like it's you and me," Matthew said. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Arthur alone in the sitting room.

Arthur sat down in a sofa by the window. The warm sunlight brought a smile to his face. Arthur loved sunshine. Its gentle heat was like a lover's caress, kind and loving and forgiving and everything Arthur had never known. So radically different from the dreary rain of England Province, where Arthur had grown up. So new and beautiful, like a breath of life in a forsaken world.

Matthew came back in with two cups of tea, placing one before Arthur. The older man murmured a quiet thank you and picked up the fine china, sipping lightly. The tea was a harmonious mixture of herbs handmade by the medic himself. Matthew had said previously that it helped calm nerves and relieve headaches, besides having a lovely flavor.

"So, how long are you staying?" Matthew asked. After a slight pause, he added, "Sorry, that was rude. I just wanted to know if I should stock up on food or not."

"It's fine," Arthur replied. "I'm not sure myself how long we'll be here. It can't be for too long, however. You shouldn't trouble yourself."

"Hm." Time passed in silence disturbed only by the soft sipping of tea. Neither man particularly wanted to speak, and so they merely enjoyed each other's company for a time. Arthur let himself drift into thought for a while, until he came up with a question to ask the soft-spoken medic.

"Why doesn't Alfred like tea?" he inquired, breaking the silence. Matthew shrugged.

"He just doesn't like the taste, I suppose. He always complains that it tastes too bland for him."

"How strange," Arthur mused. "I had always heard that America Provincians loved tea more than life itself."

Matthew chuckled. "Some do. Most just like the company that comes with tea."

"Interesting."

"What about England Provincians? Do they like tea?"

Arthur gave Matthew a wry smile. "More than life itself."

Alone in his room, Alfred sat in a corner, arms wrapped around his knees and his mind racing. The small part of his brain that remained rational chided him for his blatantly unheroic behavior, but the rest of him was flooded with fear and confusion.

Because of the story about Matthew's "wife", Alfred had been forced to either share a room with the man intent on killing him or risk being discovered. He chose to share his bedroom with the man who would be his murderer. He had to pretend that everything was okay, but everything wasn't okay. Everything was horribly wrong, and Alfred didn't think he could hide it anymore.

And what if he had his nightmares? What if he was plagued with bad dreams, images of the men he had killed, as he so often was? And what if Arthur noticed? How could he explain that? One nightmare was dismissible, but one every night? Definitely suspicious.

The worst part was, his panicked mind couldn't come up with a good cover story. This only throw Alfred further into panic. A vicious cycle.

Alfred seriously considered going downstairs and asking Matthew for some tea. He hated the taste, but he didn't grudgingly admit that it helped with nerves. Even if he truly wanted a cup, though, Arthur was down there, and Alfred didn't think his mask would be convincing until he calmed down a bit.

He sat in the corner for what felt like hours, taking deep breaths, until his mind quieted. When he felt stable enough, he got up and plopped into his bed. The window said the sun was setting anyway. Might as well get some extra rest.

Arthur seemed to be of a like mind, because he came in not five minutes later. The soldier didn't acknowledge Alfred while he changed, nor did he say anything when he crawled in beside him. Alfred felt panic rising again, but he squashed it down. He needed to brainstorm

Arthur blew out a candle on the bedstand and pulled the blankets up around him while Alfred thought. What could be a good explanation for nightmares every night? He thought for a good long while, remembering every little detail of recent history in the nearby area. His thinking went on long past the sun's descent beyond the horizon, and when the plan finished formulating in his mind, he smiled at the simplicity of it. The best lies always had a nugget of truth within them.

Still grinning, Alfred closed his eyes, letting his breathing slow and his dreams wake up.


AN: Those of you who have been following my writing blog have been hearing of some interesting news... No details on that yet, but we can remain hopeful! For anybody who doesn't know how to find my writing blog, it is theheroofilliteracy . tumblr . com minus the spaces.

So, what do you guys think of it so far? I haven't heard any thoughts yet! C'mon, guys, it's okay to tell me: am I doing something wrong? Also, how do you guys like this updating schedule? I hope you're glad that I'm neglecting my Camp NaNo novel to update this for you so often. I'm pretty glad I'm doing that, too.

Until tomorrow! :DDDDDDD