Last chapter: a giving and taking of hope.
A/N: Um…hi…? Uh, since I'm sure that you just wanna start reading the story right now, I'll just keep this short 'cause I just wanted to warn you guys that there's a sex scene at the end and I'll probably have a better apology at the end of this for my year long absence.
Five years ago, the Kingdom of Spades was known as a prosperous nation. Small, yet strong; peaceful, yet violent – it was a powerful, militant country. Ruled by a single Queen, the might of the Spades was the highest. Wars came – they were won.
Peace arrived – never did it stay.
Alfred watched as the colour of crimson faded as he dipped his blade into the water. The liquid flowed along the metal, erasing the colour until the body of liquid was once more transparent. Whether it was the rust, the blood or a mix of both running down the river, the soldier did not know. He could not remember how many times he had wiped his sword clean. Nor the number of times it had been stained the colour of scarlet.
Sometimes, the blue eyed Spade would forget why he was even wielding such a weapon. Every time he rushed into battle, he would shout it was for his country; for victory; for peace. His weapon would grow heavier with each swing; his face would stain with blood that didn't even belong to him. But the moment before the urge to drop his weapon overcame him – the strength that even the name of his country gave him fading – he would remember.
Arthur.
Arthur Kirkland.
The strong, proud and kind Queen that he promised to protect with his life – the one that he did not deserve.
And, with his determination renewed, the Soldier would heave his sword into another enemy.
Alfred gazed at the land that stretched past the horizon just beyond the river. It was his home – where Arthur was.
What was Arthur doing? Was he fighting? Was he okay?
The moment Alfred had left, five years ago, young and naïve, he had sought comfort that as the Queen, Arthur could not die. But, standing before battlefields that stretched past the curvature of the Earth, the blond haired man could not help but think what a disgusting thought that had been.
To gaze down at the bodies of people you called your own citizens. To live, even as they died. And watch as their bodies rotted back into the dirt; their lineage permanently cut short. It was a horrible way to live; without comfort nor warmth.
Arthur had once told him that it was dreadfully lonely.
That sort of existence – the loneliness that it garnered – was indescribable. And so, Alfred kept on fighting, in hope that Arthur would find a little bit of happiness with another victory. He wanted to be there to witness Arthur's smiling face. Not the crying one that he remembered so clearly.
It was true shame that he was about to die.
The twenty-four year old glanced back down at himself, sighing as he noticed the sword he had just cleaned was soaked in red once more. He had placed it on the ground – right in the direction where his own stream of blood flowed. A gash had split open his side, caused by a simple lowering of his guard behind enemy territory - a simple mistake.
Alfred brought his hand up to his face, despairing in the fact that his own dark red blood had soaked it completely.
"Some hero I am…" the soldier chuckled weakly, swallowing as his vision began to blur from blood loss. The only warmth that he received was the heat of his own blood before it cooled on his skin. Alfred could not help but remember Arthur's tears at that thought.
Were they just like blood: both warm and cold? Or had they already frozen after centuries of wars?
Alfred returned his gaze back to the river that divided the Diamond and Spade country. Home was just a few steps away – in sight – but it was still unreachable. Just like Arthur was.
"Sorry…" Alfred muttered to no one, knowing that the one he wanted to apologize to the most could not hear him. He couldn't even keep the promise he made to win the war; to go home.
The promise to just stay alive.
At the end, beyond the blood, the death and the pain, a battlefield could simply be described as a lonesome place. A dead land where plants dried under the moisture of blood, corpses piled, horribly disfigured even in the peace of death. Only the few lucky ones were unfortunate enough to remain as witnesses to the end.
Arthur Kirkland did not consider himself to be a lucky one. The reason behind his survival could not be constituted to luck nor fate; just the simple fact that he was not human. Otherwise, the improbable situation of lying with a sword bounding him to the ground through the abdomen was not one he would have survived.
"Would it not be easier for you to surrender, Arthur-san?"
With a glance both skyward and to his front, the Queen of Spades took notice of the voice's owner who was gazing down at him. Kiku Honda – graceful and honourable Queen of Hearts: former friend and ally.
A current enemy of his nation.
"…I was never one to make it easy for myself…you know that, Kiku…" Arthur responded to the question with a hoarse cough. The cold metal in his chest had nicked his lungs, making it difficult to both breathe and speak. But, as long as it was bounding him to the dirt, his body would not heal.
Just behind the Queen of Hearts, Arthur could make out the forms of the other Royal members of the Heart nation. And, accompanying them was the entirety of the immortal Clover court. It almost made the Spade laugh at how warily they looked at him, despite the state he was in. After all, he could barely even move. But still, he was the man who had overtaken multiple wars between them in the past. The one who could wield both the magic and strength of a nation when even they, themselves, could not.
"What's wrong? Just simply enjoying the view?" Arthur chuckled, a spray of blood accompanying his words. His breath was labouring to sustain the conscious state of his body and mind. Even if he was immortal, it did not mean he could not lapse into a temporary state of 'death' that would provide his enemies the perfect opportunity to win the war.
"We are just thinking how pathetic you looked, da?" The first to answer Arthur's question was the King of Clovers himself: Ivan Braginski.
"It's amusing," Ivan continued, striding closer to the fallen form of the Queen of Spades. He leaned down to stare his enemy in the eye, tilting his head as if he was examining the Spade. "You are alone. No King to stand beside you. You are small. Yet you have the ability to fight on par with myself…it's interesting."
With no prior warning or implication, the purple eyed king unveiled a steel pipe from his robes, swinging it sidelong onto the sword that bound the Spade.
"..hell…!" Arthur yelled out in pain, his teeth crunching down on his tongue as he felt the blade slice through him. He could feel more blood flood into his mouth in the struggle for breath. Immediately, the green eyed man began to mutter a spell for numbness, clearing both his mind and body of the cloud of pain and panic. The sword had slid smoothly out through dirt and flesh, exiting out through Arthur's side until the man was free from the binding of metal. Freedom from the blade allowed the Spade's body to take action, automatically stitching skin and organs together.
"It's painful, da? But, I find it strange…" Ivan smiled down at the smaller, watching as the Queen attempted to recollect himself despite being soaked in his own blood. "…being in so much pain. Having no one to help you…" The Clover lost his smile as he scrutinized the Spade. "How are you still sane?"
Arthur, not bothering to grace the other with an answer, coughed out the last of the crimson liquid from his mouth as he smoothed his hand over the flesh that had once been cut. The blood staining his torn clothes was still present– a sure reminder of his pain. But, other than that, there was no evidence of the wound that had mortally injured the Queen. So, with a roll of his shoulders, the green eyed male plucked the blade that had once been embedded in him from the ground, wielding it against both the Hearts and Clover Royals.
Truthfully, he knew that the question that the other had just asked was not at all strange nor misplaced. For millennia, like clockwork, each country had experienced what it meant to have its leader lose their minds. First came the Hearts, the lust for power overtaking their sanity to the point that the only way to sate the blood lust was to slaughter their own. Then the Clovers, the despair of watching their citizens leave for nations much warmer than their land forcing them to imprison the people, punishing those who expressed even the slightest interest to leave. The Diamonds were next, greed dividing the nation until all that was left for the Royals was a bloody battle field of revolutionaries, fighting for freedoms that they could not attain. Next in the cycle was the Spades.
Arthur was sure that this war would be his breaking point. And that his sanity would be breached under the darkness of despair. But, he still had one more light.
Alfred F. Jones.
The stupid, foolish, former Ace of Spades that rushed out, promising to win this war and protect him – promising that he would return.
Arthur crouched into an offensive position, his eyes flashing in all seriousness as he answered the other Royal's question.
"Hope. I have hope." The Queen lunged. "That's what keeps me sane."
"Matthew Williams?"
Matthew turned towards the door of the hospital infirmary, his eyes searching for the figure that had called him out from his work. Dozens of wounded, both soldiers and citizens alike required his presence. Time for a single person healthy enough to stand at the entrance and call his name was not something he could afford.
"Eh? Can I help you?" the doctor asked politely, wiping his hands clean with a towel he snatched from a wash basin. The figure at the doorway was clothed in a pristine orange uniform – a Diamond army soldier if the colour was any indication. His clothes were also not at all stained red enough to be in need of medical attention.
The soldier answered quickly and precise as any army man was expected to: "My King sent a letter addressed to 'Arthur Kirkland'. He said that it was urgent so if the recipient wasn't present, I should give it to someone named 'Matthew Williams'."
A sense of unease filled the blond haired male as he strode towards the nameless soldier, taking from him a sealed letter. The envelope was a letter sized one, yellowing around the edges and bulging in a way that signified that there was more than a simple piece of paper inside. Almost immediately, the Spade tore it open, despairing as a single glasses frame –broken and devoid of the lenses -slid out.
"…Alfred started wearing glasses a year after he went into the Diamond country to fight, eh," Matthew muttered to himself as he paused to take in the information. He hoped –hell, he prayed – that this was one of his brother's jokes. That the letter would laugh at him and say: "Sorry, bro! Broke my glasses! Can you send me another pair? Thanks!"
The doctor folded the paper open, hating the immediate feeling of monotony that he felt from the words. It wasn't Alfred who wrote it.
To the relatives and close friends of Alfred F. Jones:
There are no words that the country of Diamonds could say that could describe the sadness that the loss of Gen. Alfred F. Jones could describe. The deepest of condolences are offered to the recipient(s) of this letter. Alfred F. Jones was a great man and force in this war and he will not be forgotten by the soldiers and countries that he fought for. Though his death was a tragedy to both his country and to yourself, we hope you find comfort in the fact that Alfred F. Jones was considered to be a hero by the men he fought alongside with.
Sincerely, the Royal Court of Diamonds:
Francis Bonnefoy
Lili Zwingli
Vash Zwingli
Matthew clenched his teeth, crushing the letter in his fingers as he fought back tears. He knew that in the midst of war, Francis probably didn't have the time to send a personal letter, apologizing for the death of his brother. But, to see a letter so emotionless and static from someone who knew both his brother and himself personally, hurt.
Still, it didn't make his brother any less dead.
"…thank you for the delivery…eh…I'll be sure to give it to Arthur when he gets back…" Matthew acknowledged the soldiers efforts, shooing him away as politely as he could.
Arthur had left to fight two weeks ago. He would arrive today- the soldier probably just missed the man. But, for that Matthew was grateful. Because he wasn't sure how the Queen would handle such news given in such a horrid way. He'd probably lose his mind for sure.
"Doctor! The patient on bed 12A is going into shock!"
The call snapped Matthew out of his thoughts, forcing him to focus on more urgent things on hand. He slipped the letter and the glasses frame into his coat pocket, knowing full well that the moment he was alone, he would cry. Just simply cry. And, the moment Arthur came home, he would tell the Queen.
Inform him of the death of Alfred F. Jones.
Matthew didn't know if he could do it. The urge to simply hand the Queen the letter and run or to just simply seal his voice was such a forceful presence in his mind. And Arthur just seemed so happy.
"You should have seen their sodding faces, boy!" Arthur laughed as he jumped onto his throne, swinging his sword triumphantly into the air. He had only arrived home only a few hours before, but already he was dressed in pristine robes that flowed along his skin. "They thought they had won! That I, the magnificent Queen of Spades was finally defeated! But I sodding showed them!"
The doctor's face glistened in sweat at the thought of ending his Queen's merriment. How was he supposed to tell the man? That his most beloved person was gone?
It was a despairing thought. Only moments ago, he himself had just finished crying –yet the mourning was still an ever present sore. He was so sure that the swelling of his eyes was still visible, though he could easily hide it under the fact that he hadn't slept a wink in days. There was just too many patients to look after.
"I was able to fend them off our borders! We may still win this war yet!" Arthur continued boasting, only stopping to take a breath and sink down into his throne to rest. The weariness of war had taken its toll but, the fact the enemies were no longer on his land was a reason for celebration.
"So, is the situation on this side still alright? Matthew?" the Royal asked, his jolliness replaced by both inquiry and concern.
Matthew swallowed, preparing himself to answer the question. "The number of wounded and deceased is still increasing eh…Yao and I have been helping people as much as we can….and…"
The younger Spade paused, panicking on a way to answer next. What could he even say? Oh, and Alfred's dead?
It was a ridiculously blunt way to say it. He should just give the Queen the letter. It would hurt. It would stab the man in the heart just as it did him. But, how else was he supposed to do it?
"...and…Alfred's dead…"
Matthew hated himself for his lack of ability with words. And the shock on Arthur's face only served to throw him deeper into guilt and despair.
"…pardon…?"
The green eyed male could only gape at the doctor in shock, hoping that the sound of cannons and shouts in the battlefield had degraded his hearing. Because surely he had just misheard the boy; surely this was just a joke.
Matthew swallowed. "Francis…eh, I mean, his majesty King Bonnefoy sent a letter that arrived earlier…"
Saliva built up in the man's throat as each word stamped the reality in harder. "It said that Alfred…died in battle."
Matthew paused, the saliva now starting to choke him a bit. "My brother's dead."
With a deep breath, the purple eyed male shuddered as he pulled at the lapels of his lab coat, just finding a way to distract himself from his current situation. He wanted to break down crying; and he was sure Arthur did too. Matthew looked up, expecting to see Arthur on the verge of tears.
But, the Queen wasn't.
"I see." the blond haired Royal responded with curt mutter, his face dry and indifferent. For Matthew, it was a strange thing. Arthur always – always, always, always – had either a smile or a scowl on his face. A look of nothingness didn't suit him. It was terrifying.
"…he was human after all I suppose…shouldn't have expected less."
Matthew could hear the Queen's mumblings but, he was unsure how to react. Should he be angry for the man's lack of emotion? Or be courteous and give him space?
"I'll be in my room," Arthur spoke up rather loudly, interrupting the doctor's silent thoughts. He didn't even give time to hear the other's response, just quickly striding through the stone floors of the dimly lit throne room, exiting without another word.
The stairs to his room never felt so long in his life. And to say that, after multiple centuries of living was not a phrase to be ignored.
One step…two step…three step…four.
Arthur forced his eyes to look up and watch where he was going. There was only about thirty steps to his room, but, both his eyes and his legs felt like lead. As if he just wanted to slip to the cold, hard, stone and sleep. Maybe even die if he was able. But, he couldn't, no he opted to keep climbing.
"...I expected it…I knew it was going to happen the moment he left…"
The Queen's mutterings continued even outside his throne room, not loud enough to be clear to anyone who passed by yet still able to exude a sense of gloom and foreboding to those who neared.
"He was human. Human life spans are short. He was going to die eventually."
Arthur cursed himself for being so attached. He hadn't seen the boy for five years. Five bloody, war torn years since he had left the Queen cold in his bed yet with the warm promise of return. It was a miracle he even survived that long. So, why? Why had he still been stupid enough to take the boy's seriously? To still be attached, even five years later?
The blond forced his body onto auto pilot, his hand automatically reaching for the doorknob of his bed chambers. Monotonously, he allowed himself entry, dragging his feet to his bed and just willing himself to lay there. When the fabric beneath his face started to dampen with salty liquid it came at no shock to him.
He simply despaired that there was no stupid knight, foolishly listening at the door.
Alfred for sure thought he had died. I mean, what kind of person could get his stomach basically sliced open and still be alive. Well, Arthur could, but that was a special case. And even though Alfred was awesome, he wasn't that good. Yet here he was, alive – breathing. He didn't know if he was safe though, it was hard to tell since half his body was buried in dirt – immobilizing him as laid head to dirt.
"Um…anyone alive out there?"
The knight surveyed his surroundings, noting the forestry that surrounded him. It looked remarkably similar to the very place he had died(?) in, but, the river he had lost consciousness and life beside was not present. For a second he wondered if he had really died. If he did, maybe he was in heaven. Ah, but with all the people he killed in the war, he'd probably go to hell. Limbo if he was positive.
"Since you're awake now, you've better start showering me in thanks, you lowly minion!"
Alfred startled, searching to find the source of the voice. From the tone, Alfred was sure it was a boy – young though – maybe even someone who had yet to reach puberty. He caught sight of the boy towering just over his head.
The first thing the knight noticed the moment he caught sight of the voice owner was the kid's facial features. Blue eyes identical to his but with a face that matched Arthur's almost entirely. For a moment, he believed that maybe the kid belonged to Arthur. 'Cause if you thought about it, it wasn't all that impossible – though it wasn't anything he wanted to think about.
"Who're you?" Alfred asked, deeming it the only reasonable question to ask his current situation. He fought the urge to ask the kid if he had lost his mother, thinking it to be appropriate question as the boy was in the middle of some forest who knows where but he opted against it.
"I'm Peter!" the blue eyed, child version of Arthur Kirkland replied simply. He was striking a pose that would have suited Alfred himself as the boy had both hands to his hips in a superhero arrangement. His clothes, a black jacket and pants over a red t-shirt along with a hat that made the kid look like he had ears gave the impression that he had dressed up just to strike the pose. It was weird and refreshing at the same time.
In response to the simple answer, Alfred blinked, an expression that conveyed that he still didn't understand his situation. So, Peter elaborated.
"I'm the awesome person who just saved your life! That's why have to say thank you! Right now!"
Rather than expressing his gratitude, the first thought that came to the blue eyed man's mind was : 'how the hell did this kid save me? But, seeing the boy's expectant face, he muttered thanks. Peter seemed to deem it satisfactory though, grinning brightly.
Truly for Alfred, it was a sight to behold. Arthur had never himself smiled like that and the thought made the knight feel a pang in his chest. Seeing someone who looked so similar to the one he love – well, a younger version of the guy anyways – was, he had to admit, terrible for his heart. Alfred didn't have the time to finish his thoughts, as the kid started to simply walk away.
"Hey!" the knight called after the other, a somewhat rational fear of being left alone in an unknown surrounding gripping at his mind.
Surely enough, Peter glanced behind him, his face twitching when he saw the soldier to still be immobile. "Why aren't you following me?"
If Alfred wasn't confused at the moment and Peter wasn't simply just a brat, the man would have probably felt some sort of anger towards the other being. But, since he was, he limited himself to an annoyed tone, giving his all to convey his thoughts more rationally.
"I'm kind of stuck, right now. Do ya mind…?" the Spade questioned, somewhat reluctant to ask a boy seemingly much younger than himself for assistance.
Peter responded with a stink eye. "SERIOUSLY?"
Alfred had to commend himself on how calm he was remaining in his situation. Normally, he might have been quite a been frustrated, maybe even irritated, but for one reason, the one word that could describe his mood right now was: chill. Yes, he was chill. Maybe that was what near death experiences did to you.
"Yeah. I'm half buried; can't really go out so…"
The first indication to Alfred that the child could not be human was when Peter waved his hand.
Alfred had tried, himself, to free his own body, but the soil that had imprisoned him had hardened to almost a rock like material. But, with a simple wave of Peter's hand, the dirt crumbled. His clothes and body revealed themselves, the same red stained blue uniform that he had worn earlier still present. From the rip in his side, Alfred could see the perfectly smooth, unblemished skin of his stomach.
That was the second clue that Peter was not human.
He had been stabbed straight through. He felt it. Saw it -the blood and flesh that separated themselves from his being. Even if by some miracle he survived, it was impossible for it not to leave even the lightest of scars. If Peter had saved him from death by healing him then, he could not possibly be human.
The soldier immediately jumped into action the moment the dirt slid off him. His sword was not to be seen, but a branch that looked sturdy enough to wield had dropped close by. He lunged for it, wielding it at the boy. Inwardly, the soldier would admit that he felt like an ass, pointing a weapon at someone half his size. It was a feeling short lived though as the moment the point of the branch had pointed at him, Peter disappeared.
Only to reappear behind the soldier.
"That's mean."
The statement seemed to echo around the trees, 'causing the leaves to bristle as if a wind blew through them. But the air was dead.
"What are you?!" Alfred demanded. The reluctance to wield his weapon against a child faded with the display of speed and agility. From then on, the soldier forced himself to view the kid as an enemy.
Simply someone he had to eliminate.
"Take a guess!" Peter stuck his tongue out at the soldier, leaping easily up into one of the tree branches.
Now, Alfred was sure. Peter was not human.
"Are you a card?" the blue eyed man guessed honestly. His guard still completely up despite the distance Peter placed between them. That distant was gone in an instant when the boy appeared merely inches away from the Spade's face.
"I'm a Joker!" Peter answered. He smacked the branch out of Alfred's hand, grinning. "You better be nice to me 'cause I'm way stronger than you!"
The Spade staggered backwards quickly in defense, the last part of Peter's words just passing his ears. He transitioned into melee mode, using his fists as a shield and weapon. Peter gave him the universal 'are you stupid' look as Alfred aimed a punch at him. The dead leaves under his feet crunched as he took a step forward, and so did his fist as the blow missed its target, finding contact into the trunk of a tree.
A yelp escaped the Spade's lips, but he gave no time to nurse it and he swung backwards to aim another blow. But, midway, he stopped.
Because the very knuckles that he had just injured began to stitch itself together.
Peter snorted at the soldier's shock. "Stupid."
Alfred was speechless. "W-what did you do..?"
The Joker answered. "All I did was drag you out that river. That healing was all you."
Arthur always believed that in order to win a war, a country needed hope. Hope to win. Hope to survive. Hope for peace.
He didn't believe that anymore. 'Cause he hoped. And yes, he won -multiple times. Yes, he survived. And for but a moment, his country had experienced peace.
But, how many of his citizens had suffered in order to secure victory? How many families and friends were lost, unable to survive the carnage? And peace, why could it not remain?
Hope wasn't enough to win a war. It wasn't enough to just keep fighting. He needed power. Power to end war. Power to sustain peace
"Kolkolkol."
Arthur gripped at the hand rests of his throne, calming himself as he allowed audience to the other Cards. The Jokers had called an assembly – a temporary pact of non-aggression. And the Queen of Spades was at his limit of tolerating the presence of his enemies. The cards whose reign he had to end.
"Arthur, calm down aru."
The Jack of Spades whispered quietly to his Queen, urging the man to relax. If the Jokers had called them together in a middle of a war, then the reason could not be anything close to pettiness. Already, the nations were at odds, but, he did not want Arthur to be the one to end the non-aggression pact so soon.
"I. AM. BLOODY. CALM." Arthur breathed, biting at his lip as he glared venomously down at the other nation royals.
If it wasn't the Jokers who had called the assembly, he would have slaughtered them. But, in the hierarchy of cards, the Jokers placed highest. And that was something he had to obey.
"Kesesesesee~" Gilbert strode through the grand entrance of the Spade throne room, glancing both right and left at the gather royals. "Glad to see all ya guys behaved yourselves."
Arthur swallowed, shooting dirty looks at the red haired albino. "Joker. May I ask WHY THE BLOODY HELL ARE WE HAVING THIS SODDING GATHERING IN MY KINGDOM?!"
He coughed, seeming as if he hadn't just burst a question at the other man. Gilbert played along, daring to even wink at the Queen. "'Cause I felt like it!"
A vein burst forth from Arthur's brow, but he remained silent and seated as he allowed the man to start the assembly. While outside wars, the relationship between the Jokers were more casual, during them, the wild cards were an object of fear and respect.
"So, guys and gals, guess what?" Gilbert started the meeting off with a simple question, though the silence that followed deafening. "C'mon, I said guess what?"
The first to respond was the Diamond King, Francis, though from his tone, he was none the less annoyed by the Joker as was anyone else in the room. " Quoi?"
Gilbert smiled, acknowledging the answer with an even bigger grin. "Did all you guys know that the number of people left in your countries have been cut to about half since this war started?"
The already sobered atmosphere in the room darkened at the question, each one of the Royals contemplating the information they had each received. There were millions of citizens living in each country... for the war to decimate half of them...
Gilbert laughed, cutting through the silence. "Kesesesese! You guys are really violent! But, we can't have that anymore! So both me and Peter decided that you guys have to end it within the week!"
"That's impossible. All of us are at a stalemate, it's not something that is achievable within seven days," Ludwig, the king of Hearts stated, the ever present frown deepening on the face of the stoic King.
The Joker acknowledged the words, though the smile that contradicted the gloom of the Hearts still remained- though it was more strained "Who cares? All that matters is that we contain this war."
He strode towards the Heart Royal, standing head to head to the man. From a comparative view, the two of them with exception of their hair and eye colour – Ludwig's blue and blond vs. red and white – were almost identical. Although Ludwig was buffer.
"How 'bout this?" Gilbert offered. "You guys could all play a game! And the victors win the war!"
An indignant murmur flowed along the royals at the suggestion, Kiku being the first to contradict. "Gilbert-san, I apologize for my rudeness, but that idea is ridiculous. How can war be decided based on a simple game? Is that not disrespectful to the soldiers that we've already sent to battle? "
"Kesese, I'm sure that they'll thank the awesome me later when they wake up and find out their still alive!" The Joker answered.
"If this is what we're doing, what's our game?" Arthur asked, his thoughts honestly contemplating the possibility. He was powerful, if this was a melee battle he was sure he could win.
"How 'bout we just play an all or nothing death match with all of ya!" The Albino grinned. "Last one standing wins!"
Alfred sat simply in a tree, gazing at the ground and wondering how long the tree branch would hold his weight. It had been a few days since his supposed 'death' and Peter had been leading him to only God knows where. The trip itself was something Alfred did not mind; but with Peter laughing at every question he tried to ask was nerve grinding.
"Hey, where are we going?" the Spade questioned, repeating the words for the tenth time in the past twelve hours.
The moment the knight had agreed to follow him, the Joker had simply grabbed onto his wrist and 'jumped'. Teleport would be Alfred's word for it. The kid just called it magic.
Peter laughed as he answered; "Are you stupid? We're going everywhere, of course."
Alfred could only groan at the response of the boy. It was identical to one he gave before.
The same answer that was given when the kid 'jumped' them in front a huge lake in Diamond country – where the knight almost drowned.
The same answer he responded with when they had visited a sunflower field in Clover. He had walked into the damn field and gotten lost. Was that even possible? The things were only up to his chest!
And, still the same when they were in front of a cherry blossom tree in Hearts. Well, since Alfred was sitting in it, technically he wasn't in front of it.
"I'm bored," the Spade stated, swinging his legs in the air; it was an act not at all befitting of a twenty-four year old but still one that seemed to suit Alfred's personality well. "Can't you send me home? I want to go see Arthur."
It was then that the tree branch that he was sitting on broke. Alfred landed straight on his butt.
"Ha ha! Looks like the land here doesn't like you either!" Peter giggled at the constipated expression on the knight's face as the man rubbed his sore bottom.
"Geez! This seems like you saved me just to kill me again! " Alfred complained; he could almost swear that he busted his tail bone.
And, as always, Peter responded with a laugh. "Hero can't take it?"
A rebuttal began to rise on the Spade's face but soon enough it began to deflate as Alfred mumbled. "I don't deserve to be a Hero."
The self-deprecating statement caught the Joker's sober attention. "Are you stupid?"
"I died, didn't I? I broke all my promises to Arthur! I couldn't win the war! I couldn't go back! I couldn't make him happy!" Alfred gritted his teeth as all his negative thoughts took form as words.
"Are you really that daft?" Peter asked, the use of the word 'daft' reminiscent to Arthur's own insults. He strode to the fallen soldier, stomping down on the man's chest and breaking through the wall of gloom. "Did you know? Whenever eyebrows got a letter from you, he'd laugh? Whenever he heard about the battles you won – the promotions you gained all by yourself – he'd smile?"
Alfred's mouth gaped open as he stared at the boy that was seemingly much younger than himself.
"Just knowing you were alive kept him happy, you idiot!" Peter retreated his boot just to smash it back down onto the knight's abdomen. He took no notice to the groan of pain.
"Now he thinks you're dead! He's not happy! He's not smiling anymore!" the Joker shouted, glaring down at the larger male. It was a look that defied his youthful appearance. Peter jumped off the man's chest, striding away with a sulk. He only glanced back momentarily. "We only have one place left to go. Hurry up!"
Alfred rolled onto his side, coughing a bit as his mind got over the shock of Peter's outburst. Arthur was happy to get his letters? Even after five years, he still though him to be important?
Tears began to well up at the side of the knights eyes,
'How unhero like….' Alfred thought; though he was in pain, his confidence was given a quite a bit of a boost. He inquired the Joker once more. "Arthur seems like someone important to you."
For once, Peter gave a straight answer. "That's 'cause he's my brother."
Alfred recognized the last place that Peter took him. Arthur had shown it to him once –a sanctuary beneath the castle so quiet it simply took one's breath away.
"This is my rose garden, Alfred. It's where I go when I need to forget about the world for a while." Arthur had said, chuckling at the open mouthed gape that the blue eyed male gave to the sight.
But, it was an expression much deserved.
The space itself seemed to be an underground cave, lit with a soft light that floated in the air. The stone walls were damp with moisture, giving the room an atmosphere of haunted silence. But, the green that bloomed, adorned with the brightest of red was what had taken his breath away. Alfred couldn't believe that it was real. It was a dream-like scenery that he was sure that a master artisan had crafted from the most beloved of imaginings.
The sight still had an identical effect – just not in the same way as the past. Because now, the garden was withered.
Rotten to the point of crumbling.
"What the hell happened here?" Alfred exclaimed, taking a single dry rose in his hand. It shrivelled to dust upon contact.
"Did you know that all of us cards used to be human?" Peter said, answering the question with another. He was manoeuvering through the brown bushes, searching for something within the death as he spoke. "People were different back then though. They thought it was stupid for the land to have its own thoughts. From what I remember, they thought machines were better."
The Joker's face lit up as he dug into one of the thorny plants, revealing a piece of red. A reminder of what once was. "To them, it was an old theory that had already been proven wrong a long time ago. It was called 'animism'." He made his way to the place where Alfred stood, gaping at the scenery.
"It was the idea that rocks went back down when you through them because they wanted to go back." Peter held the rose out to the Spade. "But, they didn't listen when the land said she had enough – that she couldn't bloom anymore. So, when she had to sleep for a while, they didn't know what to do."
Alfred took the rose in his hand, surprised that despite the sharp thorns, his hand was left unwounded. The Joker continued on with his story. "But, the world is really nice! She was sad when she woke up and found out almost everyone was gone. So, she found four places where the most of the remaining people lived and let them bloom."
The blue eyed child pouted sadly for a moment, reminiscing in a memory that Alfred could not fathom. "And so people didn't forget to listen to her again, she took a group of people and gifted them with a connection to her."
He took Alfred's finger's closing them purposely over the thorny stem of the flower. For a split second, the man's instinct was to pull away, but he relaxed upon the realization he felt no pain.
"Three people in each place to divide her power; her magic; and her insight. And two others who could hear her directly." Peter smiled wistfully. "The people who were left named the ones who could control magic 'Queens' and ones who were most powerful as 'Kings' and the wisest to be 'Jacks' and the rest became 'Jokers'. Then they divided us into four nations and began fighting again."
The Joker laughed. "I was right! This land likes you!"
Alfred snapped out of his haze of thoughts staring blankly at the smaller male. "What?"
"See!" Peter pointed at the uninjured hand. "The land picks who becomes a 'Card'! The tree broke in Hearts because it did not think you belonged. The lake in Diamonds looked at you like an enemy so it tried to drown you and sunflowers in Clovers just didn't like you. But, the roses in Spades don't want to hurt you!" He stared mournfully at the dried rose bushes. "But, they're dying. Because Arthur's too sad to listen to them anymore."
The Spade was baffled by such a mere explanation. It was illogical and fantastical. But something in the kid's smile made him want to believe.
"If that story's true, why doesn't Arthur have a King? Wasn't there supposed to be three people in each country?" the Spade asked, finding the fault in the tale.
Peter answered easily. "The World chose people who cherished the life of others more than their own. There wasn't anyone else back then that were strong nor kind enough to wield 'power'." He grinned. "But, Arthur took care of me even though he didn't have to! So the World liked him very very much!" The expression fell. "Jokers are different from the other cards though. We have a direct connection with the land so we can access everything she had to offer and all her memories too. Everyone else kept the same mental capacity of a human so they forgot everything from back then."
Alfred wrapped his head around the information. "Does that mean…"
"Arthur forgot me!" The boy looked to be on the verge of tears but he smiled. "It doesn't matter though 'cause I'm fine since he's still alive! I want him to be happy though."
Peter took the rose from Alfred's hand, prying it from the unmarred skin despite the thorns. "And it's going to be okay now! 'Cause I just found him a King! So everything's going to be alright!"
Arthur blocked the a swing as he caught sight of the orange uniform that the Royals of the Diamond country wore. It was garish and ugly to his eyes but it gave him an advantage during the fight.
"Have you never heard of camouflage, you bloody frog!?" Arthur yelled, forcing his strength down onto the other Royal. In a battle of strength with his magic boosting his abilities, the Spade was sure that he could best the other in a one on one fight.
"The best strategy is to strike fear into the hearts of your enemy, mon ami!" Francis retorted back at his equal, swallowing back saliva as he exerted more effort into their battle. Just as Arthur began to withdraw his weapon to smash down another blow, he signalled, revelling both in pride and regret as an arrow shot by his very own Jack fell the other male securing victory and their loss of alliance.
"Sodding bastard!" the Queen swore as he jumped backwards to a safer distance. He clutched at the arm that had been wounded, muttering a spell to ward off long distance attacks.
The decision to make the battle grounds be the 'Royal Gardens of Spades' was a lucky one. Despite its name, the Garden or better described 'forest' was a place to be wary of. It was where the land's magic was the most thick.
And that was what gave the Spade the most advantage.
For the only one that could utilize the magic of the Spade territory was the Queen himself and the non-existent King. There was a reason why it was believed that any person other than the Royal members could enter it. The forest simply defended whom it believed to be familiar and attacked those who meant harm.
Arthur muttered a spell, swinging his arm out to send the concentration of magic spiralling at all three members of Diamond. The Queen – Lily – had been hiding, whispering spells of healing, but they weren't enough. The Queen of Spades relished at the sight of the members fall into the onslaught of trees. For a moment, he wasn't sure if the battle had been won, but when he caught notice of the white haired Joker heading towards where each Diamond had fell to fetch them, he was positive.
The Diamonds were 'sleeping'.
Guilt touched the Royal's chest as he swallowed, searching for the next Kingdom Royals. He held no grudge against the Diamonds and they were his allies for this war, but the rules were simple.
All nations for themselves.
It was just Yao and himself vs. three teams of three others. He could not afford to lose.
"Arthur, aru! Are you alright?!"
The Queen heard his Jack call out from behind, already out of breath as he rushed towards his superior. A sigh of relief escaped the blonde's lips as he realized his fellow Spade's safety.
"I'm fine, Yao! I just -"
Before Arthur could finish his sentence, the Jack toppled to ground. Falling like a toy soldier, silent and steady and unable to stand back up.
"…Yao…?"
The name was a mere whisper, disappearing into the air – lost. Like every soul who had ever perished in the world. Gone.
Arthur's mouth gaped open, his eyes searching with frantic panic for the enemy – the cause of his comrades' fall. A pipe lay close to Yao's head, metal stained in the Jack's own blood.
Ivan Braginski.
"Kolkolkol. I believe that belongs to me, da?" Ivan laughed, entering into the battlefield from Arthur's right. He stopped a safe distance away as his Queen conjured a spell to retrieve the metal weapon back to the hand of its owner.
The two of them watched as Gilbert appeared to carry Yao's body off to await the end of the game's first round.
Arthur told himself that Yao was simply 'sleeping' temporarily. He would be fine the next time they saw each other.
He was not dead.
Yao Wang was a card. He could not die. Not like Alfred did.
Nor like the humans Arthur had befriended in the past. The soldiers that he had always fought beside.
He had not left Arthur alone.
That was what the Spade told himself.
But, seeing the blood, the immobile body…identical to the corpses on the hundreds of battlefields in which he had fought…Arthur could not simply find the rationality to convince himself. He knew Yao was immortal. He knew it very well. But, the despair made him forget.
His Jack was still alive. Arthur was not alone in his Kingdom – in his immortality.
Why couldn't he muster the hope to believe it? Ah, he forgot. His hope had left him.
"Ah. It seems that you've already rid the game of the Diamonds, da? I, myself have already put to the bed the Hearts."
Arthur could not hear the Clover's voice as his mind fell to silence.
Alfred was dead. He did not have anyone to look forward to seeing after the war. No one who will say he'll be the hero. No one to be Arthur's comfort when his tears fell.
Yao was not here. He couldn't say how stupid Arthur was when he was on the edge of despairing. There was no Jack to encourage him even as the losses piled.
The Queen gazed up at the last remaining Kingdom.
"Ah! Those are nice eyes, da?" Ivan giggled, preparing to attack the shocked Spade. "They look just like mine!"
The Clover's giggle rose to a full frontal laughter. "Where is that hope you were so proud of? It's gone, da? Everything is gone! No one left for the poor, sad queen!"
Arthur felt water fall down his cheeks as the heat of the sun weighed down on him. His hair stuck to his face as all the dark emotions of war filled him.
And in a single spell; wish; demand and order, he let loose his despair with one word to his enemy.
Disappear.
"You're fucking seriously going to make me wear this?" Alfred complained, unaware of the tragedies occurring just outside the castle walls in which he resided.
The newly born King was protected by magically enforced stone, within the safety of the Castle's Royal Dressing Room, doing exactly what the room was meant for. Trying out clothes.
He shook the sleeves of his blue trench coat, trying to accent how ill suiting of the formality of the clothing was of his personality. His waist coat was way too small, and any comments that even alluded to his weight were easily struck down by a subtle, but menacing smile. Plus the tie was choking.
"It's a tradition for all the cards! Stop complaining!" Peter piped up from his seat of the dresser at the other side of the room. It was a lavish piece of furniture, mahogany with gold trimmings, stained with strawberry ice cream from the cone in the Joker's hand.
"Won't Arthur get mad if you do that?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow to the other card. Peter just shrugged, ignoring his dripping desert.
"Are you done yet?" the smaller of the two blonde's question the other, gazing on bored at the struggle Alfred was having with straightening his tie.
"Done!" the King answered with certainty as he patted at his clothes to flatten the leftover wrinkles. "Definitely look like a Hero, right?"
At the Joker's lack of response, the Spade's lip puckered with nervousness. "I look good, right? Arthur won't be disappointed when he finds out I became King, right?" He glanced at the Joker for confirmation. "I told him though! I told him I would definitely become someone who deserves to be by his side!"
But, Peter's attention was elsewhere as he stared at the dressing room exit. The King was left mostly ignored as the child jumped from the dresser, rushing out the door, dropping his ice cream in the process. Out of confusion, Alfred followed, recognizing the dual doors in which the chase ended.
Dual doors, identical in appearance to its state five years before hand towered over him – the symbol of Spades – the image that he now ruled over was faded but still recognizable.
It was the door of the throne room. The room that Arthur spent much of his time it.
"Is Arthur here?!"
Alfred's excitement at finally meeting the Queen – the person that he so wanted to protect – was bursting from his expression. His eyes were practically twinkling.
If Peter hadn't been so focussed, he'd have head butted the man in the face. The twinkle eyes were just that disturbing.
"No."
The Joker felt a bit guilty as he saw the King of Spade's face fall at his blunt answer. But, it was the truth.
This was where both Jokers had decided to hold the other Cards while they 'slept'. The ones who lost the game.
The losers of the war.
And Arthur was not there.
Peter pushed open the grand entrance, his blue eyes surveying the line of chairs that faced the door.
There were eleven – one for each participant of the game. Four were empty. The rest were filled with the breathing forms of all the Cards. Matthew Williams – the only appointed human doctor of the Spades were tending to them, ensuring that they were in clean, presentable and comfortable positions as they slept.
"MATTIE!"
Alfred's cry of happiness echoed from within the stone residence, causing the only conscious being to jump from his spot. The doctor dropped the cloth he had been using to wipe blood away from the now non-existent wound on Yao's forehead.
He turned to the entrance, his glasses slipping from his nose as he recognized the figure rushing towards him.
"A-Al?" Matthew stuttered as the King barrelled into him, sweeping him up into a hug.
"H-holy..! I really missed you Mattie!" Alfred laughed as he squeezed the life out of his brother. The quieter of the two remained in frozen shock, only warming as he felt his sibling's heart beat next to his own.
"Y-you're alive, eh? But, the letter…? Your glasses….?" Matthew gasped out the questions from Alfred's embrace, reciprocating the hug as if his brother would disappear the very moment he let go.
"'Course I'm alive! I told you I was a hero, didn't I?" The jubilance of Alfred's tone was so prominent that it immediately warmed the atmosphere of the room. He let go of his brother to pat his face. "Ah! You're right! I lost my glasses!"
Alfred grinned. "Sorry, 'bout that! I guess everything was way too crazy and I didn't notice I lost them! Buy me a new pair…?"
Matthew chuckled over his tears, wiping his face with a clean sleeve.
Surprisingly, the first to cut short their reunion was the King of Diamond, whose eyes had just blinked open.
"..my, my…a touching display, mon chers! Will you allow me to join?" Francis' voice was still tinged with weakness as he spoke, though the surprise, joy and relief that his eyes underlined at seeing Alfred alive were genuine.
Despite it being Francis who cut the reunion short, it was Peter who destroyed the happiness in the atmosphere.
"Francis! Have you seen Gilbert anywhere?" he asked as he strode over to the Diamond's seat, his eyes serious and expecting no bullshit answers. But, it was the Albino himself who answered as he stepped in, bringing with him three Cards.
"Fucking Club! Why the hell does he have to be so big! It's such a pain to the Awesome me!" Gilbert grumbled under his breath as he lugged the forms of all three Clovers to the room, releasing them as Matthew rushed over to help bring them over to their assigned seats. He tended to them as the red eyed Joker let out a sigh, addressing his bite size colleague. "We were right to suggest this game. If this were on a larger scale, I don't think there'd had been many left."
Peter's face was borderline distraught as he took the information in. "So, its…?"
Gilbert nodded, gesturing to the members of the three card kingdoms. "Over for now. Until one of these idiots start another one."
"Hey, what's going on?" Alfred stepped in, more than a bit confused as well as disappointed with the fact that Arthur was still not present.
The Jokers merely glanced at him as they shared their own private conversation.
Gilbert started. "…so is he….?"
"…yeah…" Peter responded.
"…seriously…?"
"…confirmed it."
"…really…?"
Alfred twitched as he inferred the topic of the conversation but he forced himself to remain polite. "Guys, I'm in the dark here! C'mon and explain!"
Both Jokers looked at him with a less than subtle –Alfred was sure that they weren't capable of any less- mocking expression. They sighed with a shrug in unison as they made the decision to brief him of the situation.
First, they told him about the casualties of the war. A story that Alfred was already familiar with.
Second, they told him about the game that they suggested to end said casualties.
Then they told him who won. And Alfred couldn't be more ecstatic.
"Really?! Arthur did?! Ha ha, I knew he could!" the King of Spades laughed, pushing away the disappointment that he could not have helped in the final battle of war. It was a shame, but miniscule compared to the idea of victory.
"So, where's Arthur?"
The question asked was innocent. Just a King asking for the whereabouts of his Queen but, both Jokers seemed reluctant to answer. As if the responsibility to form a reply was too much for both of them.
"He's uhh…in that weird forest…I think it's called the Royal Garden…?" Gilbert began. "But, he just won a war so he's pretty bummed out."
Alfred was baffled by the last statement. Was it not a good thing to win a war?
"Why would he be sad that he won?"
The reply was not an answer to his question: "Why don't you see him and find out, sir King of Spade?"
Arthur hated how everything –even those brought into the world after him – disappeared before he did. Crumbled away as if their existence had never occurred.
It wasn't fair.
Why was he still here? Why did even the youngest of his citizens die when he still existed – centuries after his birth?
He did not remember his life before he was Queen.
He did not remember if he ever had a family who loved him.
All he remembered was being given the crown.
All he knew was being told that the Queen of Spades was strong.
Oh, but he wasn't. He was weak. Fragile and vulnerable just as the meaning of his card implied.
Arthur blinked, noticing that he was still crouched in the dirt of the Royal Gardens. It was strange; he didn't remember how he got there…
Ah yes, he had offed that insolent King of Clubs.
He had willed the land to make the Card disappear and it had obeyed -rising up to swallow the man in its darkness. The land was a representation of the well-being of its leader, it obeyed as long as the individual kept his promise to protect it. To wage war to defend rather that to destroy.
Arthur had never once declared war on another Card. Always, he had been fine in his sphere of isolation, safe from harm. But, when threatened, he would fight and protect what had belonged to him. That was probably why both the land and people loved him so much. He wondered if they would grant him a last request.
He hated his existence. Therefore, he no longer wanted to exist.
Would the land obey him and grant him his mortality?
The responsibility of ruling a country on his own was much too great. He did not want to be Queen any longer.
Would his people forgive him? And appoint a new Queen in his stead?
Arthur gazed to the sky and into the empty land surrounding him where the Royal Gardens once stood. The moment Arthur had used the most of his magic to win the foolish game that the Joker had offered, his power had burst, flattening the natural barrier that had protected his castle for centuries. Making him more vulnerable than before.
Spades; a symbol of death.
A power that encroaches even the user himself, dragging him down to the depth of Hades. Arthur wondered if he could use that to his advantage. He put his hand to the dirt. Closing his eyes as he strengthened his resolve.
There's nothing left for me here.
"I want to die. Will you grant me that?" he asked the land. The Queen felt cold tears fall along his cheeks but, when he touched them, he realized that for once it was not his own.
The sky was crying. It was sad.
The water began to soften the Earth and Arthur could feel magic gather where he remained. Slowly, the land was causing him to sink – granting his final wish.
"Thank you," Arthur whispered. He swallowed, trying to calm himself. The man had hundreds of years to prepare for this moment but still, when it came it was not easy.
It was not a simple fairy tale when humans said that death was to be feared.
"Maybe, I'll be able to see Alfred. I wonder if Cards go the same place humans do?" the Queen questioned out loud.
He did not expect that it would be answered.
Alfred had heeded the advice of the Jokers, rushing outside of the castle without a moment's notice. He was horrified what had met him there.
An entire part of the forest had gone, destroyed by a force that the newly appointed King could not possibly imagine. But Arthur was not there.
Where was he?
"Arthur!" Alfred called out to his Queen, searching the vast expanse for a recognizable figure. He could not see one. From what he had gotten out of both Wild Card's unease was that Arthur was in trouble. He needed Alfred to save him; a hero to be by his side.
But Alfred could not do that if he could not find him.
The King swore to himself, twisting and turning to find anyone in the destruction. The trees were snapped, entire tops gone and many were blackened as if fire had swept through it. Yet Alfred could not find Arthur among them. The blue eyed male swallowed as his mouth began to dry, nervousness building in his throat.
Alfred called out again, louder. And this time, he made a wish. Prayed to anyone who would help him find Arthur. And, unbeknownst to the King of Spades, his country answered. Through the connection both cards had with the land.
'There's nothing left for me here.'
A voice resounded in his mind, causing Alfred to flinch back because of the suddenness. But, it was Arthur's voice.
"Arthur?" the blue eyed male spoke to the wind.
'I want to die.'
Alfred's alarm rose to an exponential level at the last statement. He didn't understand what was going on. Why Arthur's voice was in his head but, he knew the other needed him. And so he ran. Anywhere. Just to find him.
"Maybe, I'll be able to see Alfred. I wonder if Cards go the same place humans do?"
The King felt a rise of anger as he heard Arthur's question. His heart was beating in his chest as he searched, but, at the realization that his ears heard what he thought his mind did, his confidence rose.
Because there Arthur was, only a few stone throws away. And he was sinking into the ground like quicksand.
Now, Alfred will not lie. His first rational thought at seeing the scene was: What the fuck is going on?!
While his first irrational thought was: Who cares! Arthur is there! I need to save him!
Alfred F. Jones was not a rational person. And thus, he rushed in, attempting to pull the blond out of his Earthy grave without a single thought.
Surprisingly, it worked.
"There's no way in hell that you're gonna see me if you're trying to go where I think you're going!" the sun kissed blond dangled his Queen by the arm, too angry at the death attempt to notice the shocked look on Arthur's face.
"…Alfred?"
His name brought him back to his senses as Alfred gazed right at the man who had always been his light. The man who had always encouraged him to be his best.
The person who was now stained in blood and dirt – tear streaks on his face, bags under his eyes so dark that the emerald in them almost looked like it was glowing.
Alfred's heart felt constrained in his chest at the sight of the person he loved. He couldn't answer the questioning tone in Arthur gave to his name. All he could do was bring the Queen into an embrace, solidifying his presence with his warmth.
"…how are you alive…?" Arthur's muffled voice broke the moment as Alfred brought the other to an arm's length so that the two could both examine the other's condition. The Queen's face was dry with shock as the first thing he noticed was Alfred's uniform.
A pure blue Spades uniform – complete with the formal three piece suit with a long coat over everything.
The clothes of the King.
"…what…?"
Alfred grinned as he brought Arthur into another hug. "Peter tested me! He said that I'm the King of Spades now! Officially!"
Alfred expected Arthur to be happy.
He expected the Queen to be ecstatic.
Not horrified. But, the older of the two was.
"Why?!" Arthur yelled, pushing Alfred away. "You can't! Do you understand what it means to be King?! The responsibility of being a card?!"
The smaller of the two curled into himself, his mind racing as he listed all the downfalls of his life.
"There's only war! There's only pain! Loneliness!" the Queen cried out hoarsely, his breaths in uneven shudders. "You won't be able bloody handle it! You're still-!"
Alfred stopped the sandy haired blond short as he reached out to squeeze the smaller man's face in his hands. He told him firmly. "I'm not a child anymore, Arthur."
He hugged him once more. "See? I'm bigger than you! And you're here too, right?"
Alfred smiled. "So, if I can't handle it you'll be here to help me! Side by side, right?"
Arthur whimpered as the King planted a wet kiss on his forehead. "Don't worry anymore, okay. I definitely got you, Arthur."
The two thrones were no longer empty. Nor were they the cold seats that they had been.
"Seriously dude! You've been alive for what? Almost a millennium and you've never thought to invest in cushions?" Alfred complained as he dragged an armful of cotton pillows on his newly appointed throne. It felt as though he could never get used to it: the fact that he was actually King.
The idea that Arthur could actually belong to him.
"Hey, Arthur?" the King peeked over to the adjacent throne, smiling at his Queen from his new seat of comfort. Arthur's attention was focussed on a single piece of parchment, the frown aging his eyes much more that the war had. But, for the King, he looked up. "Yes, Alfred?"
"What 'cha looking at?" Alfred asked, tilting his head to take a glance at the paper; the words 'pact of non-aggression' and 'thirty years' popping out at him. "Is that…?"
"It is." Arthur answered. "The pact we just signed with the other Cards."
The Queen stared down wistfully at the simple sheet – at the meaning contained in each word. "Thirty years of peace…it's such a short time…"
Without a word, Alfred jumped from his seat, plucking the signed pact out of his Queen's hands and letting it float to the floor. He stood right in front of the blond haired man, staring down at him with a frown.
"Thirty years is a long time Arthur! A lot of kids now will be adults and they'll have kids of their own. The Royal garden is going to grow back and we'll make those Roses bloom again!" Alfred declared, throwing his arms up in a frenzy as if to prove the importance of his point. "It's a really, really long time!"
He took a step forward towards the now physically younger male – the man had aged five years, he now surpassed Arthur by one. Face to face with his fellow Spade, Alfred leaned over, closing the distance between their mouths until they were barely touching.
"We'll definitely make this country not just the best but the happiest too! 'Cause I'm a hero!" Alfred let his lips gently touch the other's, pulling away shortly just to allow the heat to linger. "And you, Arthur Kirkland, are the strongest person this hero has ever met."
Alfred kissed the other harder. He only pulled away when he felt Arthur's salty tears on his face.
The very moment the smaller felt Alfred's eyes on him, he instantly covered his face: hiding away tears as he had done dozens of times before. But, before the King could do anything to remedy them, Arthur smiled on his own.
"That's the most bleeding clichéd compliment I've ever heard in my life. So much so, that I don't think I deserve it." The Queen wiped away the tears of his cheeks, rubbing his eyes as well. "You have no idea how grateful I am just for having you here. I'm honesty expecting to wake up and find that you're really dead and all this is just a delusion of mine."
"Lemme tell you something, Arthur." Alfred took his Queen's hands in his, leaning their foreheads together. "I've killed a countless number of people in the five years I was away. I saw some things that I didn't think that human beings were capable of but there were times I didn't do anything to stop them."
The green eyed male's face sobered at the words, but Alfred continued.
"I'm just trying to say that I haven't made a whole bunch of good choices in my life. I took roads in my life that I regret taking." Alfred smiled. "That's why if anyone doesn't deserve this, it's me. But, I'm here, that's why I'm going to do my best to make you happy! So that you never regret taking me by your side!"
He flicked Arthur on the nose. "That's why, every single day of my life from now on I'm going to show you how much I love you!"
The King licked Arthur's lips, gaining permission to enter within a short moment. He pushed the smaller back against the Queen's throne, breaching the protection of clothing that Arthur wore. With puppy eyes, the dominant of the two inquired approval for his actions, smiling as the Queen nodded. He pushed on, tearing away both his and his lover's coats.
Alfred smiled, caressing Arthur's skin as he trailed his finger's down from the Queen's shoulder down to his hand, entwining them together with his own.
"Ha, ha! I wasn't able to do this back then, but this time for sure, okay?" the blue eyed male whispered, warming the nape of Arthur's neck in contrast to the coldness of the heavy space. Arthur turned away with a frown. "There's no need for the foreplay, Alfred. Technically, we're married so there's no qualms if we just hurry along already. So get a bloody move on." The Queen glanced back with a smirk, one that the other reciprocated with gusto.
"Sure thing, Artie!"
Alfred was lucky that Arthur was in too good a mood to correct him for the name.
Though the blue eyed male really was one to appreciate good foreplay, he decided to take the Queen's wishes into priority and hasten things up. Simply speaking, he tore Arthur's pants off.
"Bloody Hell!" Arthur hissed at the sudden attack of cold air towards his legs, unsure whether or not to be thankful that he was wearing underwear. He didn't think he'd be able to stand the sudden frigidness on his nether regions in the state he was in. It was still a debate when Alfred commented on his pants.
"Hm. Briefs not boxers this time, huh? That's pretty sexy."
Alfred waggled his eyebrows appreciatively at the sight, leaning in for a kiss to stunt Arthur's glare. He swirled his tongue around the other's, chuckling as Arthur moaned in their mouths. It was definitely hot, but now he wanted to take it one step further.
His mouth kept skillfully in place, the taller of the two allowed his hand to travel downwards. The goal being the prominent bulge between Arthur's legs. He purposely loss his finesse as his hand reached its goal, roughly massaging the still clothed erection. The Queen gasped, his breath cutting short as his own arms reached out to claw at his lover's back.
"This time it's not gonna end up with just a handjob, Arthur..." the King promised, hooking a finger on the elastic on the other's underwear; he pulled down, staring down at the now exposed hardness.
"Wow, my heart's gonna have a field day whenever I see that," he commented, adding a chuckle when Arthur blushed indignantly. "What do you sodding mean by that?!"
Alfred responded by nipping the top of Arthur's lips, gazing into green eyes lovingly. "Just happy to see you hard for me."
If it was all possible, the heat on the Queen's face, spread down to his neck, giving the man a pink tinge that the King laughed at heartily. "You'll hate me for saying this, but you're cute, Artie."
Alfred gave no time for Arthur to respond to the comment, beginning to stroke the flesh up and down in his hand without further ado. He loved how the smaller male gripped at his shoulder tightly with every motion; how Arthur's gasps became shorter as he headed towards release. And the contrast on how everything relaxed the moment Arthur had reached the edge.
"Wow, that's thick. When was the last time you did this?"
It seemed to be the blue eyed male to simply embarrass the man in his arms and it was a goal easily accomplished. Arthur, even in his sated state lifted his to weakly slap the other on the upside of his head with a stutter. "S-sod off!"
Alfred grinned, lifting his hand to show off the Queen's own cum as he experimented with it on his fingers. The blue eyed male coated three of them evenly, finally answering Arthur's words: "Nope! Fun's just started!"
The sunny blonde accented his statement by lifting the smaller's leg up, not stopping to enjoy the view for the sake of his own straining erection in his pants. He placed it at Arthur's entrance, glancing up for the a-okay. Arthur nodded; so, slowly, he began to insert one, swallowing at the tight feeling around his finger. His own breath was shallow at the very idea of his penis being engulfed in that hotness. 'Cause god it was so fucking tight!
Alfred began thrusting his finger in and out, waiting until Arthur relaxed slightly before he inserted the second, then third. It took all the patience the blue eyed male had not to pull his fingers out and start thrusting with something bigger than his digits.
Then the moan came.
The king looked up in slight surprise at the sound – his mind was much too occupied on the feeling of Arthur's muscles clenching on his fingers and his imagination on what was soon to come. But, the moment realization hit him, he smirked.
"There it is!"
Alfred quickly navigated his fingers to hit the pleasure spot that had caused such a reaction. Arthur's body shuddered at the second hit, his skin glistening with sweat as he flushed. But, in no way did the other relent. In fact, Alfred's pace quickened. He homed into Arthur's sweet spot, abusing it with constant pressure from one finger and using another to thrust around the taut muscles.
"A-Alfred..!" the queen moaned, his head thrown back as his legs instinctively widened at the action. His entire body was twitching with ecstasy at the prostate abuse, whimpering when the pleasure withdrew. Already his erection was renewed but this time it would not be sated with a simple hand job.
Arthur gasped for breath, catching a glimpse of what Alfred was about to do. The Queen caught sight of his King unbuckling the buttons of his own trousers, releasing the hardened flesh. Both eyes of each Royals met as Alfred offered a smile, taking one of Arthur's hand and pecking it with a kiss. He dropped the hand gently, focusing more on his task as he positioned his penis, penetrating slowly yet steadily to forgo any pain. He didn't stop until he was nearly out of breath from the heat – the tightness – and completely sheathed inside the other male.
"God, Arthur. I'm starting to wonder why I didn't decide to do this earlier!"
The addressed male was completely mindless to answer, the pleasure splitting him apart both physically and mentally. Apparently, the blue eyed Royal had a good memory; 'cause the very moment Alfred had entered him wholly, his prostate was not missed.
Arthur couldn't think beyond the haze of ecstasy, he could only hold on as the man above him began to thrust into him. Slowly at first, then quicker. Gently at first, then harder.
The smaller male felt himself begin to lose himself with every hit to his prostate; all the heat concentrating to the pit of his stomach. Alfred's rhythm began to become increasingly sporadic as Arthur clenched around him in time with each thrust. He swallowed as he kept himself from releasing too soon, reaching over to stroke Arthur's still hard erection and send him into a deeper ecstasy. Just before he reached the edge, he went in for a last kiss, increasing both the speed of his strokes and thrusts.
Arthur gasped, clenching tightly around Alfred as whiteness engulfed the back of his eyelids. The last that he felt was the liquid heat inside him as Alfred flopped down, their sweat intermingling within the grandeur of the throne room. The room that was no longer the cold place it once was.
Alfred lifted up the slumbering queen, placing him comfortably on the cushions of the King's throne. It was a long time since the blue eyed male had seen the elder sleeping and it was not something he wanted to disturb. Thus, with a light sleight of hand, he quickly dressed the other male, bringing him to his chest as he carried him once more. Arthur deserved to sleep in a comfortable bed, thus Alfred would take him to one. But, just as he turned, the King noticed that the two of them were no longer alone. For just ahead of him, taking up the space in front of the exit were the two jokers.
"Kesesesesese~ Congratulations to the happy couple!" Gilbert was the first to speak between the two wild cards, giggling at Queen in Alfred's arms. "Well, he looks pretty sated. Maybe when he wakes up he won't have that stick up his ass anymore. He'll have something up there instead but still..."
Peter kicked the taller's knees with a scrunch of his face. "Ew!"
Alfred himself felt no alarm at the sight of the two non-royal cards, as they had been nothing but help up to the present. He simply tilted his head at them.
"What are you guys doing here?" he asked.
This time it was Peter who answered. "We're obviously came here to say bye! You should thank us for that!"
"Uh hunh! We're the awesome duo! 'course I'm better than the pipsqueak" Gilbert agreed, pacing backwards as the two of them pushed the throne room exit open to make way to the king. "Since the war's over, we don't need to be here 'til the next one. 'Cause we're mediators, you see."
The two of them stood at the edge of each door, waiting as Alfred began walking towards it; only when the King passed through the door did become animate once more.
The two of them bowed deeply, just as gentlemen would, to the newly appointed King. Then they both smiled.
"Congratulations, King of Spades. See ya in the next war."
And they were gone.
A/N: Beware long Author's note.
Okay, that's it folks! Um, I probably have a lot to say right now but uh...where to start...um...first thing I want to thank someone. Empress Vegah, thank you so much for your patience with me! This was supposed to be your secret santa from last year and I'm sorry if it's a dissapointment in more ways than one. It's to you that I'm most grateful for your kindness, and the one I'll bow deepest to. Thank you!
Secondly, I want to apologize I'm honestly really sorry for my year long absence...I don't want to be one to give an excuse but life has been busy. I should probably elaborate on that before people stab me with pitch forks ha, ha. Well, I'm a new university student now! A history/anthropology double major, lol. Surprising, huh. It's my new life's motto to think that hard work will eventually be rewarded so I've been working my ass off at school and work to pay things off. My parents don't believe that what I'm studying is going to get me anywhere so part of my determination is to prove that I can succeed in what I'm doing!
For this fic, I'd be very thankful if you guys could review about it; I'm a bit rusty so, I'm not sure if my writing has deteriorated or not. I've been spending my days writing essays and reading books dated back to the sixteenth century so if my writings gone weird, please let me know! Especially the smut part, I wrote the handjob in the last chapter but this is my first time writing actual honest to god, penetration smut. If it sucked, criticism will be welcome. Though flames not so much...
And for my other fics...I'm placing 'you're gonna go far kid!' on a temporary hiatus since my plot bunny just died for it...I'm not planning to completely drop it though so no worries...for 'Not just a fling' the next chapter is half way done...so I should finish it hopefully within the month. It's past midnight...guess I'll finish my classics essay later...
Ah. Almost forgot...I'll probably post this on LJ later on in the week...bye...