Author's Notes

I got my hands on Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword a while ago, and I've finally gotten time to get deeper into the game. It's amazing. Hwhffhoir. I'm starting to read LoZ fanfiction again, hahaha xD (I'm still a derp at using the Wii Motion Plus commands, though. It's hard, hush xD)

Also, my Avengers cosplayer gang and I decided to have an Avengers-movie marathon last night, and we watched Captain America, Thor, Ironman 1, Spiderman and Ironman 2, back-to-back. So. This author has just experienced her very first white night and is not taking it very well. Going over 26 hours without sleep does not agree with me. Just thought I'd share.

And of course, the usual credit roll for the beautiful reviewers that I love so much ^^ Big thanks to bobness, Canada Cowboy, Nanami of Falling Snow, OmgPandi, ZhangArronXun, mlpnkobnhjui, WRITING IS TIRESOME YEAH, phuongly, SamuraiSal1, Rainstorm-Mosspath, Ember Hinote for their amazing revews, comments, and criticism. I always adore reading your reviews because they make me smile :D

And no, the assassins last chapter weren't anyone in particular, although you're welcome to think the contrary, if you like xD

Also, cookie to anyone who can guess what's the deal with the chapter titles (:

AND HAPPY CANADA DAYYYYYYY. Happy birthday to the most amazing country on this planet. Cheers to many other centuries of triumph and glory for Canada (:

Warnings for this chapter include: Slightly 'squelchy' material, slight blood, and swearing. Enjoy!


That night, Alfred was led to Arthur's chambers. It was the first time he'd seen Arthur after the graveyard encounter, for right afterwards, Yao had whisked him back inside, and maids, all dressed in black, swarmed him and brought him to a bathroom where they washed him with things he'd never even heard of before, and perfumed him with scents he didn't even know existed.

His hair, long and unkempt, had been trimmed to the bottom of his neck. The stubborn cowlick on top of his head, though, still refused to stay down. The maids gave up after a bit and just moved on. They cut his fingernails and toenails, trimmed the hair under his arms, shaved the small fuzz on his chin, and all this at the same time.

Alfred had felt lost as the endless pairs of hands worked on him. Frozen. Detached. He didn't know what to think anymore. Shock had not stopped coursing through him, from the moment of revelation to then. As he'd lain perfectly still in the violet-tinted water of his bath, unable to recollect himself, his mind had gone entirely blank.

After having been dressed in slightly richer clothes, Alfred had been taken to Yao, who had then told him it was time to go see Arthur, for real, this time. Still unresponsive, Alfred had mechanically followed him through the palace hallways, this time uninterested by the decorated walls and lush carpet under his feet.

Alfred only slightly woke up from his shock-induced trance when he stepped inside Arthur's room and found him, laying in bed, a physician next to him. He was naked from the waist up, but a roll of clean bandages was wrapped around his torso. Arthur's lips were set in a thin frown as he watched the physician note something on his pad, and he only noticed Alfred when he took a few hurried steps to his side.

Quite predictably, Alfred's first question was "What's going on?"

"Arthur tried to defend the late King last night. His efforts were met with failure as the assassins overpowered him." The Jack replied in his place.

Arthur only turned his head away, guilt and utter shame swimming in the clear green of his eyes. Alfred's heart leaped at the sight of that look.

"Your Majesty, your hand, please." The physician ordered quietly, putting his hand out. Arthur looked at him for a moment, and then gently put his right hand in the physician's. Alfred noticed it had been heavily bandaged, and slightly tinted copper. Blood. His heart rose in his throat.

The physician gently started unwrapping the bandages, and Alfred only watched with growing apprehension as with every layer taken off, Arthur's frown seemed to deepen. Throughout the last layers of bandages, Arthur was practically biting his lip through as pain shot through his entire system.

Alfred did not seem to be able to say a word, frozen in shock as he watched Arthur's pale hand become completely exposed. There was a large red patch on the back of his hand, the skin around it raw, irritated, and covered in blood, and when the physician gently turned Arthur's hand around, he noticed that same thing had appeared on his palm.

When he put two and two together, Alfred got the sudden urge to vomit.

Yao seemed to notice the new King's distress and promptly grabbed a chair for him.

"Sit down, your Highness." He half-ordered in a firm, yet gentle voice.

Alfred threw him a terrified look at the use of that term, but feeling his legs quaking beneath him, he decided to sit down before he fell.

"It will take some time to heal." The physician mumbled, rummaging in his case and pulling out a tin can. He opened it and dipped one of his fingers in it, bringing out a slimy, pale green cream that he applied on Arthur's hand.

Arthur left out a stifled gasp and clenched his eyes shut, his free hand fisting in the sheets. Alfred's eyes were stuck to his face, where he observed the expression of utter agony with some sort of morbid fascination. He hated that look on Arthur. He told himself he could take it away. Like a true hero.

And then he corrected himself. Arthur was an ass, right? Especially since he seemed to know about all this, and didn't tell him at all. So... he should have been happy that he was hurting, right?

He couldn't bring himself to think that.

"I guess I won't be writing for a while." Arthur shakily chuckled, obviously trying to cover up the fact that he was suffering. "Shame..."

"Arthur." Alfred immediately cut in, feeling his voice lock in his throat. Arthur looked up at him tiredly, the bags under his eyes proof of how stressed he had been for the past weeks, leaving the physician to rub the medicine on his wound and then start wrapping his hand again.

"What is it?" Arthur raised a brow, gritting his teeth to keep a whimper from escaping.

"What's going on?" Alfred asked, letting free the question he so desperately wanted answered.

Arthur looked at him for a moment longer, and then turned his gaze away, cheeks reddening in... guilt?

"The Clockworks of Spades chose you to be the new King of Spades a week ago." Yao explained in Arthur's stead.

"The... Clockworks of Spades?" Alfred blinked, uncomprehending. He was sure that Matthew had mentioned it when talking about one of the books he'd read, but... he couldn't remember what that was for the life of him.

"Yes. It is the large clock in the hidden room of the Temple of Spades, and when the time comes for a new King to rise to power, it shows the face of the person who will take the former one's place. Seven days after the face is shown, the new King rises to power." Yao explained, watching as Alfred nervously played with his shaking fingers.

"Seven days..." he muttered, realizing why he'd been kept in the dungeon for so long. "The seventh day is... Today." He turned his wide, confused gaze up to Yao, who only nodded.

"Yes. His late Majesty refused to be toppled when your face was shown, so he ordered your death so he would continue being King." The Jack finished calmly, as if Alfred's life had been nothing more than a game to be played with.

"And you saved me..." Alfred remembered how Arthur had gone up against his father in order to keep him alive. Because he'd known. Arthur had played him, too. "You knew." He accused, turning his gaze around to glare at Arthur. "You saved me because you knew all this was going to happen."

And Arthur refused to bear his gaze because Alfred didn't sound angry. If he were angry, Arthur would have been able to shield himself from his words, as he always did when people got angry at him. He was used to defending himself from anger. But Alfred didn't sound angry.

His tone sounded betrayed.

And it shouldn't have mattered to Arthur, because of course, Alfred was an obnoxious prat and he hadn't saved him for his sake, but for the sake of not disrupting destiny, but...

Alfred's tone jumped right over the iron barricades, ripped through the chains and locks and bolts, and stabbed him directly in his raw, tender heart.

"I didn't... I didn't want to confuse you." Arthur mumbled, having the decency to look ashamed. "My father was trying to change destiny. If I'd told you, and it hadn't worked out, you would've... Your life would've felt like a lie to you, and every moment you spent outside the castle from then on would have given you bitter disappointment."

"You confused me more by suddenly springing this on me a few hours ago." Alfred gritted his teeth, refusing to believe that Arthur had acted for his sake. They didn't like each other. Therefore, Arthur had no reason to care for his wellbeing. "How do you suggest I swallow the fact that I'm now expected to lead the second most powerful fucking country on this planet when a week ago, I was helping my little brother plant carrots?" he clenched his fists, heart beating hard.

Arthur looked up at him, eyes bright with a plea for him to understand that he'd had no other choice. Alfred disregarded his plea and returned the gaze with a disappointed, betrayed look. Arthur looked away again.

"Then you'll just have to adapt quickly." He replied coldly, and his tone might have passed as careless if there hadn't been a slight tremor in it. "You're King now. Get over it."

"I can't do that." Alfred shook his head frantically. "I can't stay here. I have a job, a house, and a little brother to feed. I have to go back."

"You have a salary as King. You can send Matthew money as long as it's your money." Arthur suggested.

"Send him money as a replacement for my presence?" Alfred gritted his teeth. "I won't do that. I have to go back to him and make sure he's okay."

"Alfred, understand that with a new position comes new responsibilities, and you can't keep everything you used to have in-"

"I won't leave him!" Alfred cut him off, getting up suddenly and making Arthur jump in surprise. All eyes turned to him for a moment, and he became aware of the tears pricking his eyes. "You're suggesting I let my brother go so I can become something I didn't want to become? Don't you understand it's not that easy? Matthew is all I have! Nothing you offer me will make me leave his side!"

Arthur looked at him a moment longer, chewing on his lip, then, without dropping his gaze, he called.

"Yao."

The Jack took a step forward to acknowledge the summon.

"There must be something open down in the stables, or the kitchen. Find a job for Alfred's brother and assign him a room in the servant's quarters." He ordered, glaring at Alfred as if daring him to retort.

Alfred took the bait.

"W-Wait, you can't just tell him to leave everything and come here!"

"I very well can, Alfred." Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, irritated. "You can't get away. There is a reason the Clockworks have chosen you. I don't know what that is, but you're the one they have picked. You'll do great things for our country, and whatever I have to do to keep you here, I will do." He then turned to Yao, finally breaking his stare with Alfred. "Please do so tomorrow morning, Yao. I want him settled by tomorrow evening."

"Of course." Yao inclined his head only lightly, a formality more than anything else in between the two of them.

Arthur nodded back to him, and then winced as the physician finished bandaging his hand.

"We'll be starting your education tomorrow." The Jack quickly changed the subject while Arthur was preoccupied with his injury. "As King, you'll have to know the entire country like the back of your hand. Also, you'll be meeting the Council for the first time, aru. Thus, I suggest you get some sleep. You'll need all your energy tomorrow."

"Where do I get to sleep?" Alfred asked, regretting his questions because his answer was obvious. He was terrified of the answer, too. As if every answer he got to his questions consolidated the fact that his life had become a mess that he didn't know how to deal with.

"Yao, please take Alfred to the King's quarters right now." Arthur answered, nodding his thanks to the physician as he left the tin of medicine on his bedside table and got up to leave.

"Of course." Yao nodded to him. "I will be back afterwards to discuss a few things, aru." He then turned to Alfred. "Come along, I'll show you to your room." He motioned to the door.

Alfred looked at him for a moment, then at Arthur, and then at the door. Lost. He felt lost. He didn't know what to do or how to feel. He just wished someone would take him by the hand and tell him what to do. But there was nobody for him. He was alone amidst all the rich tapestries and elegant furniture.

He threw Arthur another look, and then spun around to leave without another word.

Arthur watched him go sadly and nodded to Yao as he, too, left. And then, he adjusted his pillow and sunk back into bed, trying to untangle his thoughts without another word.

Once in the hallway, Alfred let Yao take the lead and followed him silently, as he always did. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to comment on anything, but he found himself muttering something he'd been trying to convince himself of for long.

"I... I don't like Arthur."

"I assure you, Alfred, that it's just a front." Yao answered without skipping a beat. "Arthur is the type of person who wants to look strong in front of others. And right now, he wants to be strong for you."

"For me?" Alfred repeated, incredulous. Why would Arthur ever feel the need to be strong for him, of all people?

"Yes, for you." Yao assured him, stopping in front of a mahogany door and unlocking it, leading Alfred inside. "He's just trying to help, despite having to deal with so much himself. You'll have to forgive him his stress, aru."

Alfred didn't answer, too busy trying to figure out how he felt about all this, while at the same time, trying to take in what he saw.

The room was beyond lavish, and obviously the late King's room. The window and balcony doors were open to air the room, but everything still seemed to give a queer vibe. Alfred didn't like it here. He wanted to go back. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Back in his dungeon cell. Back on the streets. Back in a dark alley on a cold winter evening as he hugged his brother and prayed they survived the night. Back with Arthur. Anything. He didn't want to be King. He didn't want any of this.

"I'll leave your clothes here." Yao rummaged through a freshly stocked drawer, and Alfred idly wondered if the entire castle knew of his arrival and had gotten the time to prepare for him. The thought sickened him. "Please sleep tonight." He then added, noticing how Alfred seemed frozen.

"I'll try." The King replied shakily, looking around and taking in all the gold decorations, fancy furniture and the four-poster bed that was piled with exotic fur covers and pillows and delicate-looking curtains. Alfred briefly tried to do some math to try and figure out how much the room must have cost to furnish, but the numbers went higher than he could mentally calculate for.

"If you need anything, ring the bell by your bedside. A servant will come immediately." Yao informed him, but, noticing he still hadn't made any noticeable response, decided to leave him alone for now. "Still so young..." he sighed, catching Alfred's attention. "Both of you... Still so young and expected to bear upon your shoulders the burden of an entire nation." He shook his head grimly, then turned around to open the door. "Good night, Alfred."

And without waiting for a response, he left, leaving Alfred alone to work things out. He stood there a bit longer before deciding that yes, he did probably need a lot more sleep than he thought he did. Finally moving from where he was rooted to the ground, he picked up his pyjamas and quickly changed into them, carelessly tossing his clothes on the ground. He then gently folded and set his glasses on the night table.

Apprehension growing within him, he approached the large bed, and ran his fingers across the silk sheets, then up the pale blue, see-through curtains tied with a gold rope. He then gently lifted the covers, and, taking a deep breath, he slid under them.

He instantly felt misplaced. The bed was too big for just one person, and though the window was open, he felt too hot under the covers. Worst of all, he swore he could still feel the remnants of body heat from the old King on the mattress, as if he'd been brought in minutes after he'd died. There was a presence in the air, and Alfred hated it. He wanted to leave. He wanted to go home.

Alfred was scared of being so alone in such a new place. He curled up under the satin sheets, bringing his knees to his chest and ducking his head, as if protecting himself of whatever was perverting the atmosphere. He felt unwelcome and alienated. Misplaced. On his own.

He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep that night. He didn't even bother trying. Instead, he curled up tight and let a couple of silent tears mark his cheeks as they slid down his face.

...OOOOOOOOOOOOO...

Alfred awoke from a shallow sleep by the sound of footsteps. He immediately shot up and moved back as he noticed a maid in his room.

"Your Majesty." She curtsied as soon as she noticed he was awake. "Good morning. Shall I run you a bath?"

Alfred ignored the pinching in his heart at the mention of his new title, and shook his head.

"Uhm... That's okay. I'll do it myself." He mumbled awkwardly. And although he didn't have his glasses on, he still made out the shocked and slightly insulted look on the maid's face.

"Y-Your Majesty, w-was something not at your liking yesterday?" she stammered, wringing her hands nervously. Alfred briefly wondered how old this girl was. His age? Maybe a bit older? She was still young, though. And then he wondered how old Arthur was.

"On second thought, I took a bath yesterday evening, so I don't think one is necessary right now. I'll just... clean up." He fumbled with his words, desperate to keep his thoughts away from anything that had to do with Arthur.

"Yes Milord." The maid nodded. "I will have your clothes laid out for you when you come out. Also, the Queen requested your presence for breakfast in the dining hall." She informed him.

So much for not thinking about Arthur.

"Alright, thanks." Alfred nodded grumpily and pushed himself out of bed, grabbing his glasses and heading into the adjacent bathroom.

He didn't take long to get cleaned up, but was surprised when he came out, only to find his bed made and clothes laying perfectly upon it.

Silently getting changed, he threw a look at the mirror on top of the dresser before exiting his room.

Predictably, he did get lost. And, to his annoyance, every servant and maid he passed by in the hallway stopped and bowed as he passed by. Incredibly intimidated by this, Alfred didn't muster the courage to ask someone for directions until he ended up in what looked like an endless hallway lined with doors.

The servant he found after that gave him clear directions to the dining room, and when Alfred got there, feeling incredibly irritated, Arthur greeted him with a raised brow.

"It's about time." He muttered, watching as Alfred fell down into a chair next to him.

"Good morning to you, too." Alfred grumbled in response.

"Cheery this morning, aren't you?" Arthur rolled his eyes, pulling his chair closer to the table as a servant came in, placing in front of each of them a plate of steaming eggs, bacon, sausage, and fruits on the side.

"Whoa." Alfred simply commented, closing his eyes as he let the warm, comforting smell of food wrap around him.

"Enjoy your meal." Arthur wished him briefly before picking up his utensils and delicately cutting a piece of sausage.

Alfred's stomach rumbled loudly, and so, he only found it logical to forgo the fancy cutlery. Picking up his fork, he stabbed a slice of bacon and shoved it in his mouth, stars exploding under his eyelids, closed in delight, as the marvelous taste took over his entire mouth.

"We'll be starting as King and Queen today." Arthur started, trying to ignore the sounds of Alfred's noisy eating. "First, I'll show you around the key parts of the castle, and at the same time, perhaps try to get in some education, behaviour-wise. For lunch, we'll be meeting the council for the first time, to discuss some pressing issues. And then, in the afternoon... Well, rehearsal, I guess." He tripped over his last few words, refusing to let nervousness slide into his tone.

"Hmh, sure." Thankfully, Alfred was too busy stuffing his face to care. Half his plate was already gone, and Arthur watched in silent awe as he practically inhaled his food down.

"Alright then." The Queen sighed in desperation as he watched his atrocious eating habits. "I think we should start with your table manners."

...OOOOOOOOOOOOOO...

"If you go down the hall, you'll recognize that that's where our individual bedrooms are." Arthur pointed down the hall, stealing a glance at Alfred. He didn't look like he was giving a single damn about what Arthur was saying. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, sure." Alfred shrugged, turning his eyes to the door they had stopped in front of. "But... I still don't get why I have to share a room with you later on."

"After marriage, like I said." Arthur gritted his teeth, somewhat insulted. "After we're married, it's customary to share chambers, and a bed. It's done this way because sharing everything is supposed to enhance the magic bond in between the King and Queen, but none of the previous Kings and Queens have divulged what that magic was. We won't be allowed to, either. Every generation has to find their magic on their own, I guess."

"Magic? I thought only the Jokers could use magic." Alfred scratched his head, confused. "At least, that's what Mattie told me once..."

"The Jokers do cast magic indeed. But... Well, I don't know either. We'll find out what this magic is once we get married." Arthur looked away, hiding the blush on his face.

"Well I'm not looking forward to sharing anything with you." Alfred looked just as embarrassed. "I downright refuse to."

"W-Wanker." Arthur immediately whipped around, eyes wide, but turned away just as quickly so that Alfred couldn't see the drops of hurt glistening in his eyes. "W-Well I don't like you, either! And I bet I'll be extremely uncomfortable, sleeping with you." He grumbled.

"I'll say." Alfred merely replied, obviously miles away from hearing whatever had just cracked inside of Arthur.

...OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...

"Hey Arthur?" Alfred spoke up as they silently walked around the training grounds, idly observing the few soldiers who were sparring or training.

"What is it?" Arthur raised a brow, still somewhat bitter.

"Why'd you lose that confrontation a few nights ago? I thought Queens were supposed to be great fighters." The King commented innocently. "I don't feel very safe, knowing that my life is in your hands."

"Y-You..." Arthur clenched his fists, trying not to explode. "How dare you? The nerve!" he huffed, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself down. "I haven't been Queen for too long. Less than a year. I couldn't have gotten too good in less than a year, at least, not as four armed and perfectly trained assassins." As much as he hated admitting it.

"You should learn to size up a challenge, first. You wouldn't have gotten hurt so bad if you'd realized you were no match for them." Alfred shrugged, vaguely noting that his tone held a certain concern within it. Too late to go back now, though. Alfred hoped Arthur hadn't caught it.

He did.

"S-Shut up." Arthur blushed, crossing his arms. "I didn't want to go down without a fight. I wanted to show them that Spades wasn't afraid of anything and would never give up." He mumbled.

"Why'd you do it?" Alfred sighed, suddenly unwilling to meet Arthur's eyes. "Why'd you... Try to protect him?"

Arthur's eyes snapped up quickly, filled with confusion, and then, morphed into anger.

"You selfish brat, he was my father!" he clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "You're telling me I shouldn't have tried to protect my own flesh and blood?" he seethed.

"N-No, that's not what I meant, it's just that..." Alfred fumbled for his words, not knowing how to express his disgust at how the old King treated Arthur, and how he was absolutely not worth keeping on the Throne. Mainly the first.

"It doesn't matter." Arthur seemed to understand the unsaid comments anyways, tone hushing down as he turned his eyes to the ground. "The stress of ruling a kingdom on his own was too much. I was too young and inexperienced to be of help, so he had to run Spades on his own. It wasn't his fault."

"It was mine."

"He's dead now." Something locked up in his throat. "It's my fault. I couldn't be of help during his living, and I knew I wouldn't be useful after his death. I just wanted to show him I could do it."

"I just wanted to show him I was worth something."

"No matter." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and Alfred, who, up to this point, had kept quiet, suddenly felt something tug at his heartstrings. "As a son, I was bound to try and protect my father, and as a Queen..." his eyes flashed, but he refused to look up at Alfred. "It's my duty to die for my King."

Alfred's body was overcome with violent shivers.

"Well then..." he awkwardly cleared his throat after a while. "Guess we're both new to this whole King-Queen thing. We'll learn together, right?" he grinned at him, hoping his nervousness didn't show through.

"T-Together?" Arthur felt his face heat up, and he immediately tried to dispel the blush. "N-Not at all. I've been raised into royalty since I was little." He fidgeted. "I know how everything works, since I was born in the castle, after all." He tried sounding somewhat superior, if only to distance himself from Alfred.

Alfred merely raised a brow, annoyance bubbling up within him, and turned his head away. He shouldn't have dared hope that Arthur would be nice to him. Sometimes, he felt like he and Arthur would never get along. Good luck running a country when your partner hates your guts.

...OOOOOOOOOOOOO...

"Your Majesty." Arthur both sarcastically and formally muttered under his breath as he opened the door to the Council meeting room. Alfred glared at him, and strode inside, immediately freezing.

The room was alit with conversation, the dozen older men, all dressed in sumptuous blue and gold clothes, sitting around the table conversing loudly.

"Who are they?" Alfred nervously whispered to Arthur, noting that they'd all noticed him, but didn't seem to relent on their conversations.

"The High Council of Spades." Arthur replied, motioning him over to a couple of padded chairs at the end of the table. "Come. We should start soon so we can finish soon." He didn't sound too enthusiastic.

"Okay..." Alfred nervously nodded, looking entirely awkward as he slid into his chair, Arthur sliding in next to him. They both looked at the chattering men for a while, and then Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"They're not going to stop talking just because we're here." He grumbled under his breath. "Conceited bastards." Alfred jumped at the sound of the swear.

"W-What do we do, then?" he asked, fidgeting uncomfortably, aware of the clandestine stares thrown at him from everywhere.

"They'll only listen if you prove you're worth being listened to." Arthur explained, eyes hard. "Say it. That the meeting will now commence. Show them who's going to be leading this."

"M-Me?" Alfred wringed his hands nervously.

"No, your pet rock." Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course, you. You're King now, after all."

Something lurched within Alfred's stomach.

"O-Okay..." he took a deep breath and turned his head upwards, sitting up straight and trying to look confident. "Please quiet down." He called, hoping his voice wasn't trembling. "The meeting will now commence."

And Arthur noted how this was the most King-like attitude he'd seen from Alfred since they started. He shivered, feeling goose bumps pricking his skin.

Slowly, all eyes turned to Alfred, and one by one, the council members, albeit grudgingly, quieted down.

Alfred brightened and turned to Arthur for silent approval. Arthur merely blushed and turned his head away. What was Alfred turning to him for, anyways? It wasn't like his approval mattered much to him, right?

"Alright, let's get lunch in here." Arthur motioned to the servants standing by the door to the kitchen. They both bowed and silently left to get their food. "Let us begin." He then started. "First of all, I think we are due for some introductions." He turned to Alfred, nodding at him to continue.

Alfred fidgeted, then straightened.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Alfred F Jones, and ehh... Well, apparently, I'm King of Spades now." He nervously clutched his pants, feeling awkward under the judging glares of the dozen old men.

"Charming." One of them rolled his eyes, and even Alfred realized it was a sneer. He deflated immediately. "It's our honour to guide you through your decisions, your Majesty." The way he said it, though, it felt more like they'd be making decisions, and Alfred, making them official.

"T-Thanks." He couldn't find anything else to say. Thankfully, his saving grace came in the form of a servant walking in with a cart lined with plates of food. His stomach growled at the smell of food, and Alfred was immediately glad for the diversion. Maybe, after a few bites, he would be able to compose himself.

They started eating in silence, silverware clinking gently as various forks and knifes were picked up. Predictably, Alfred got immensely confused when he found himself with three forks, three knives, and two spoons. All of them honestly looked the same to him, and he didn't find it logical when, through the corner of his eye, he noticed everybody eating their salad with the same fork, and buttering their bread with the same knife.

He just wasn't cut out for fancy, he decided as he picked up a fork at random and stabbed at a slice of tomato. At first, he ate without paying attention, too hungry to care about what was going on around him. And then, as his stomach filled up more and more, he became aware of the murmurs going around the table. Glances were thrown his way, lingering on the way he forwent the use of a knife to cut big pieces of lettuce, ate his rice with a spoon, and cut his meat into big pieces scattered all around his plate.

Something akin to frustration and embarrassment welled up within Alfred, and he dropped his utensils, leaning back and slouching in his chair, appetite all but gone. The glares made him feel extremely self-conscious, and he shuddered at the thought of what those men were thinking of him at that current moment.

Arthur noticed his plight when he realized Alfred had only eaten half of the contents of his plate before leaning back. He finished swallowing his bite and gently set down his utensils as well, noting how furtive, accusatory glances at them made Alfred look entirely uncomfortable. Arthur could practically see the self-deprecation in Alfred's eyes.

"Hey..." he called, trying not to blush as he leaned closer to Alfred. "You haven't finished your plate yet. Come on." He awkwardly patted his shoulder.

"'M not hungry anymore." Alfred muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. Was Arthur ashamed of him, too? For some reason, that hurt the most.

"You, not hungry?" Arthur couldn't help but scoff. "Come on. Pick up the smaller fork and the sharp knife, and cut your lettuce. It's way too big to fit in your mouth." He encouraged, picking up his own utensils.

Alfred looked at him, eyes swimming with self-doubt and guilt, and sighed, picking up the fork and knife Arthur had pointed out.

"Hold them like this." Arthur shifted his fingers over the cutlery, a move Alfred mimicked instantly. "Good. This fork is the salad fork, and this knife is the cutting knife." He put his utensils down before picking up another fork. "This fork is for you main dish. You only eat soup with a spoon, using this one." He put up a large, flat spoon.

Alfred nodded, and exchanged his salad fork for his larger fork, holding it the way Arthur showed him to cut a piece of meat and put it in his mouth slowly, chewing hesitantly, as if afraid he'd done something wrong again. Once more, he looked at Arthur for approval, and this time, Arthur didn't deny him what he wanted.

Alfred beamed at Arthur's nod and straightened his back, thinking he'd gotten the hang of things when whispers reached his ears.

"-disgraceful-"

"-unrefined-"

"-unmannered-"

Every ounce of confidence he'd gathered thanks to Arthur seemed to evaporate as the whispers got louder. Alfred's shoulders sagged, a sign of defeat. By no means, though, did Arthur give up.

"Don't listen to those stuffy old twats." He whispered, gritting his teeth. He wasn't deaf- he knew what their council members thought of their new King. "Just keep going, Alfred. You'll learn. We'll both learn."

"I don't want them to hate me..." Alfred whispered just as quietly, eyes downcast. "I don't know what to do..."

"Come on, love." Arthur encouraged, blushing when he realized what he'd said out of instinct. "C-Chin up." He encouraged, scooting away from Alfred and trying to keep his eyes off of his surprised face. "Your food's getting cold." He muttered, and Alfred grinned because this entire thing just sounded silly.

"Oh, for hell's sake, the entire country is going to go up in ruins like this!"

Everybody suddenly went silent, the clinking of silverware immediately stopping as all eyes, from shocked to curious to supportive, turned to a silver-bearded man sitting on Arthur's right, a bit further away.

"I'm sorry, would you care to repeat that, Councillor?" Arthur gritted out, venom lacing his every word.

"My opinion on this, Your Majesties, is that the country is going to go up in ruins." He pointed at Alfred accusingly. "Especially if he's our new King!"

"There is nothing wrong with our new King!" Arthur immediately jumped to Alfred's defence, not noticing how the younger boy looked like he was about to cry.

"He's right, the boy is hardly qualified." Another one piped in, bolstered by his fellow councillor's words. "His writing is mediocre, let's not get started on calligraphy, he can barely read, and only has the briefest notions of mathematics!"

"He'll learn, just like all of you learned!" To be stuck-up assholes, he added in his mind.

"Sire, with all due respect, Alfred has too much to learn to be able to comprehend how this country works! He's a commoner, a peasant, he does not know how the upper class works, he does not know how decision-making works!" the first councillor pointed out loudly, not sounding like he gave a damn about due respect.

"Councillor, I advise you to hold your tongue before I have it cut off for disrespect!" Arthur was now shaking, disbelief coursing through his veins. How could they be so cruel? How could they put Alfred down like that, when the boy was obvious doing all he could to please? Now, he realized why the kingdom, under his father's rule, had become corrupt. It was because of these arrogant bastards making decisions.

"Queen of Spades, listen to yourself!" Arthur shivered at being addressed so directly. "You were born into royalty, you will learn what your position implies." His words implied that Arthur was not being a satisfying Queen, either. "But him!" all eyes turned to Alfred, and Arthur noticed with growing horror that he'd gone extremely white, eyes wide and brimming with self-disgust and hate and guilt and shame. "He will never learn. How can he be King when he doesn't even know simple things, like what the Administration Deck members do?"

Arthur was just about to explode, livid with rage, when suddenly, a hand was gently put on his.

"Actually..." All eyes turned to Alfred again. "I... I know there's the Jack... He takes care of international relations and the castle staff, and is a professional and personal counselor to the Royal Pair." He gulped down, eyes downcast because he could take the sight of so many eyes, previously narrowed, growing wider and wider in surprise with his every word.

Even Arthur had stopped, looking at him with something akin to shock and pride swimming in his eyes.

"T-Then there's the Ace... He leads and trains the recruits in the army... Supervises military operations, and uhh... He's the main tactician during wartime."

Think, Alfred, think, he told himself. What had Arthur spoken about in his cell a few days ago? He knew this! He could prove to everyone that he did! And then, they'd have to stop making fun of Arthur and him!

"A-And... There's the Ten... District supervisor, and he makes sure security is good for the inhabitants and collects taxes for the treasurer..." he held his tongue on that last one, not knowing whether or not the council members knew who the secret Treasurer of Spades was. "And last, but not least, there's Arthur and me..." he gulped down, throwing Arthur a nervous look and shaky smile. "K-King and Queen of Spades..." Just saying it made his heart flip in his chest. What was he getting so flustered about? "T-The King makes decisions and applies them... He also learns to fight and goes to war... He listens to citizens and tries to find answers to their plight... And, well, the Queen... The Queen applies the King's decisions, and goes to war with the King, a-and..." he threw another nervous look at Arthur, who was obviously speechless. "A-And the Queen's duty is to die for the King."

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Nobody even dared breathe for a moment. Everybody just looked at Alfred, speechless. Entirely flabbergasted and with nothing left to say, shock coursing through their systems. Alfred fidgeted beneath their surprised looks, feeling self-conscious and hoping he hadn't made a fool of himself by saying something wrong. A bigger fool than he must've made himself to be before.

"We'll learn." Arthur suddenly broke the silence, obviously the first to have recovered from Alfred's shocking display of knowledge. Pride shone in his eyes, defiance overpowering it all as he glared at all the councillors. He was still aware that Alfred's hand was on his and in another act of defiance, he took Alfred's hand in his and squeezed it tight. "We'll both learn together."

And they threw a look at one another, something inside both of them falling into place. Something inside of them had been completed. They didn't know what. But during the few seconds where they shared that look, the complicity ran clear as day between them, and they allowed one another to see a shared smile.

Once they parted to casually return to their meals, the silence hovered above them, tense and crushing. But, knowing they were together on this one, the two royals ate without worry. Soon enough, the council members joined in their actions, awkwardly picking up their utensils again to return to their cold meals. Nobody felt like eating anymore. But they did, just to have something to occupy their minds with.

The silence was only broken after the dinner plates were taken away, when one councillor cleared his throat awkwardly to speak up.

"Y-Your Majesty..." he seemed to use the title with a bit of respect and a lot more fear now. "W-We should discuss what is to become o-of your wedding now..."

Arthur immediately bristled, straightening, hands clutched in his lap.

"There is nothing to discuss." He hissed. "Father is dead, and so, there will be no marriage. Cancel it."

"Your Highness, you must think this through, first." Another one decided to pipe in. "Royals must be married to be able to rule together. You have postponed your marriage with your father for far too long, anyway, ruling over six months without being married to your King."

"I don't want to get married." Arthur huffed, and Alfred found, with quite a shock, that there was something akin to childish sulking in that tone.

"Your Majesty, think of the kingdom. Think of Spades! Royals live to serve their country, Sire, you must get married and have the Ace coronate you as soon as possible! You aren't legally entitled to being Queen if these two aren't done soon." Another agreed.

"Sire, we're on high tension with Clubs right now, so we don't have money to spare for anything. We've already spent so much of our funds on your and our late King's wedding, we cannot waste all that money!" another argued.

"Sell the wedding props, I don't know!" Arthur argued back, agitation evident in his eyes.

"Sire, we must listen to the voice of reason. We cannot waste the money we've already spent on a wedding that will happen tomorrow, of all times! The screens have already been set up in a lot of districts, everybody's waiting for your wedding impatiently. We cannot disrupt all the hard work put into this." Another ran a hand over his moustache pensively, and Arthur had to admit that they were making sense.

"I'm not going to get married." He still kept arguing, though, because he didn't want to be forced into a union he didn't believe in. "Father's dead. I won't get married."

"But you have our new King, don't you?"

And everything dropped into silence once again.

Slowly, Alfred and Arthur turned to each other, sharing a glance, and immediately turned their heads away from one another, blushing brightly.

"It was bound to happen someday, Majesties." The same council member continued, noticing that he had their attention. "Instead of wasting preparations we will have to make again at a further time, why not save time and money by marrying you two?"

"I-I refuse!" Arthur stammered, blushing. "I refuse to get married to someone I barely know!"

"Arthur..."

"I don't want to be married! Not now!"

"Arthur."

"You can't force me! I won't get married to Alfred!"

"Arthur!"

Panting, Arthur was barely even aware that he'd stood up. His eyes turned to Alfred, and his heart wrenched when he realized how dejected he looked. Calming himself, he sat back down and refused to look at Alfred.

"Okay." Alfred shakily nodded, looking entirely uncomfortable. "Are there any other issues to be discussed?" He asked, and nobody answered. Alfred kept his eyes trained on the table in front of him, too nervous to look anywhere else. His eyes only snapped up when the servants came back in, carrying slices of cake that they put in front of everyone silently.

They all picked up their forks in silence, and Alfred threw a furtive glance to the side to see how Arthur was holding his fork. He noticed he hadn't touched his cake, opting for staring at it wistfully, eyes glazed over.

"Sire, there is also the coronation..." one of the council members had the courage to break the silence again. "The ceremony where you and the King are crowned and receive your legal titles." He deemed it necessary to explain, probably because of Alfred. The latter took slight offense in it, as everybody could guess what a coronation was, royal or not.

"I think we should do it right after the wedding. Two birds with one stone." Another nodded. "All in favour?"

The council members slowly raised their hands until all twelve of them had their hands up, looking at the royals expectantly. Arthur didn't seem to want to pay attention to them, his eyes having a surprising docility imprinted in them. Like resignation. Giving up. A white flag.

Alfred hated that look on him.

"Alright." The King shakily nodded. "The coronation will take place after the wedding. Tomorrow." He was aware of how his hands were trembling in apprehension and anticipation. "Is there anything else to discuss?"

The council members looked at each other, silently debating, and then, one of them shook his head.

"No, your Majesties. That is all."

"Okay." Alfred gulped down and tried to sit up straight, give himself a slightly more regal appearance. "Council is adjourned."

As soon as the words passed his lips, Arthur rose from his seat and silently made his way to the door. They all watched him go, wincing at the slam of the door, and then turned back to each other.

Feeling strangely naked and defenceless without Arthur by his side, Alfred also got up, nodded to his council, and followed out in Arthur's footsteps.

That afternoon, up until the night, the two were called to rehearse their newly-announced wedding. While Alfred shook with apprehension with every step he took, Arthur merely walked like the condemned being led to the gallows. Alfred noticed how he did not speak at all except when he had to practice his vows. The number of times they did it, it felt to Alfred like they'd gotten married a dozen times already.

Either way, to say that Alfred was nervous was an understatement. Even on their way back to their rooms, after dark, he was shaking, obviously dreading what was to come.

"Don't worry so much." Arthur grunted for the first time when he realized that Alfred's nervousness wasn't dying down. "You'll do fine."

"I'm going to mess up." Alfred shook his head, eyes wide. "What if I trip? Or I faint because it's too stuffy? Or I forget my words?" he clutched at his hair, stressed out and panicked to the maximum. "The whole world's gonna be watching, Arthur!" he quieted down, his voice fading to something akin to regret. "I don't want to make a fool of myself anymore..."

"You're not going to, Alfred."

"With so many people watching, I'm sure something's going to go wrong." He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "You saw how I was today at Council. Twelve people were glaring and judging me, and I could hardly speak. What am I gonna do when there are hundreds of thousands of them watching me and judging me?"

"They won't judge you, Alfred." Arthur tried grumpily, although they both know that was a lie. If anything, Spades' couple of thousands of nobles would judge him, him, a mere peasant becoming King. Perhaps nobody else would judge him, but a couple of thousands were more than Alfred could handle.

"I wish they wouldn't." He whispered, and Arthur's heart went out to him. "I'm trying..."

"I know you are. You'll show them, Alfred. If nobody else, then I, as your Queen, believe in you." And despite being a horrible person to turn to comfort to, Arthur knew he'd made Alfred just a bit better when he got a sad, tired smile in return.

"Thanks, Arthur..." he dropped his smile. "I wish everybody who is going to look at us tomorrow would think the same way."

"Alfred, just pretend it's just us." Arthur told him, somewhat exasperated, but understanding his nervousness. He wasn't showing it, but Arthur was nervous out of his mind as well. "Pretend it's just you, me, and the priest at the altar. We're getting married, that's all that counts. The rest is a show for the entire world to see." He trailed off, before realizing with how much care he'd pronounced those sentences.

Blushing, he took quicker steps until he got to the Queen's quarters, and immediately opened the door.

"Well now, let's go to bed. Don't worry about things like that, you'll do fine." He tried smiling at him, and told himself he was comforting Alfred so that he wouldn't ruin his image at the wedding. Nothing else. It wasn't like he liked Alfred and wanted him to be free of worry and to have a smooth night's of rest. "We'll do fine."

"Thanks, Arthur..." Alfred fidgeted before looking up and shooting him a small, timid smile as well. Arthur was surprised, seeing this quieter side of his King. Alfred's grin hid many things, it seemed. Arthur wished he could uncover all of Alfred's secrets.

"Not at all. It wouldn't do to have bags under your eyes on your wedding. Now go." He motioned with his head towards the King's quarters, a bit further down the hall.

"Alright." Alfred nodded to him, taking a few steps in his quarters' direction. "Good night, Arthur."

"Sweet dreams, Alfred." Arthur acknowledged with a nod. "Rest well, for tomorrow, you will wake as a King."


Author's Notes

This chapter was a little bit... everywhere? Anyways. It was a bit segmented, but I think it was good.

So... I got a bunch of questions about the fact that the old King randomly died and Alfred's now King. If you remember, in the very first part of the first chapter, it was mentioned that "it has struck again". It, standing for the Clockworks of Spades. And Arthur explained it to Matthew, too. And now, it's fully explained. If you still don't get it, ask me, I'll explain further. It's a simple concept, though. The Clockworks don't ring, ever, except that when they do, the face of the new King is shown, and it is destined for the new King to ascend to the Throne seven days after his/her face is shown. Capish?

And, if you didn't catch that, Alfred was repeating what Arthur had told him the other day in the cell. Smart move X)

And yes, I know that more questions have risen than answers, but please bear with me. You will see when it happens, because everything is going to happen at some point. Have patience xD And like I said to many people already, this story is divided in two halves. First half will be concentrated around Arthur and Alfred, the development of their relationship, and their adaptation as King and Queen of Spades. The second part of the fic is going to be the war, in which the rest of the cast will play major roles as well. But for now, and for quite a few chapters from now, the entire story will be centered around Alfred, Arthur, and their relationship.

In any case, all questions are welcome. All comments and critics are welcome, too! Give me anything you want, because I adore hearing what you guys have to say :D You are all amazing! ^^ Please review~