Last part! Thank you everyone. I know it goes kinda fast but...


If you find me

Epilogue

XX

Alfred knew that going through civil war hurt. He could not quite remember his own civil wars; his memories in that department were cloudy at best and he had probably been delirious and half-crazed throughout it, but he knew that it was a painful time.

At first when Alfred watched him it only seemed as if Arthur were experiencing a bad dream; a very bad, horrific dream. However, when Yao's medicine wore off and Arthur awoke, though not fully conscious, Alfred could fully appreciate the horrors of civil war.

He was glad that they had tied him down. Arthur could struggle as much as he like, the skin breaking and bleeding against the rope, he could curse Alfred and swear and spout as much angry babble as he wanted but he could never get his hands on anything dangerous.

Feeding Arthur in that deranged, paranoid state had been a frightening experience. Sometimes he was fierce and would not let anyone touch him, sometimes he was silent but paranoid, and sometimes he would be seductive, licking his lips, displaying his sweat-stained body, offering a fuck in return for freedom.

'Hey,' Arthur would whisper. 'You've got me tied up here. Why don't you take me? I wouldn't be able to stop you. Come on, take me, you fucking Royalist; show your love for the country.'

At times Alfred wanted to punch every person he saw; Royalist or Civil. He wanted to yell, 'Stop it! Stop it, can't you see that it's hurting him?' There were even times when he wished everyone would just disappear in a mushroom cloud but he was not enough of a hypocrite to become the very thing he had tried to save Arthur from becoming.

He begged Yao to give Arthur another dose, would have gotten on his hands and knees even, but Yao insisted that another dose so soon would be harmful.

'Wait three or four years aru, and if he doesn't calm down by then I'll give him another dose. I promise, aru,' he had said.

The war raged on for another two years. Alfred was sure that, if it did not kill Arthur, it would surely kill him to watch its effects on Arthur's mind.

However, just when they were ready to give Arthur another dose, the unthinkable occurred. The queen was assassinated by her own son.

After the initial surge of violence this brought about, things quickly calmed down. The government regained control and ruled that the Prince would not be tried for treason but would ascend the throne as King though with limited powers.

Unrest and bitter feelings continued to bubble – who would serve a king usurped the throne? It would be better to completely scrap the monarchy so this could never happen again – yet those feelings simmered down when it became apparent that repairing the damage both sides had done was a priority. They had made too many holes in this ship and would both sink together unless something was done.

The feeling waned into something that could tentatively be called peace.

XX

Arthur was only partially aware of what he had done during the war. He had been awake and yet delirious, thinking back on it was like looking at shadow puppets on the wall; watching and yet strangely apart from everything that was happening.

He had vague notions of what he had done but it all seemed as if it were just a bad nightmare. The things he said, the things he did or tried to do were too horrible for him to think otherwise.

Light fell on his face when Arthur sluggishly opened his eyes. It felt like the first light he had seen in centuries. His first thought was; warm, until he was finally able to perform more complex thought.

It was peaceful. The room smelt of spring; cut grass and flowers and sunlight. Was light usually this bright? The sun felt so good against his skin that he did not want to move but, shifting his head slightly, he looked down and realised that he had been untied; there were bandages around his wrist and ankles but the rope was gone.

"A – Alfred?" he tested his voice. It came out smooth.

Two warm hands clasped his own. Through his swimming vision, he managed to make out Alfred's face leaning over him. He blinked several times to clear his vision, focusing on Alfred's smile.

"Arthur? Are you okay? How are you feeling? Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice was edged with slight panic despite his calm outward appearance.

Arthur groaned and managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. It was easier to look at Alfred this way. "Of course I know who you are," he muttered. "Get me something to drink."

Alfred laughed, relaxing. The sound was oddly solid; the only first real sound that did not feel like an illusion. "Only just awake and ordering me about already? You're definitely Arthur!"

"Git," he muttered. That word sounded so strange to him. When was the last time he had used it? It could have been centuries ago.

Alfred only smiled and looked at him with an expression he could not quite place. The force of that gaze however tender it was only made Arthur squirm.

"W – What?"

"Nothing," Alfred said and his smile widened.

"Idiot," Arthur frowned at him, except that his frown was the wrong way around.

XX

"She didn't deserve a royal funeral. She doesn't even deserve those flowers!" Alfred glared at the gravestone overshadowed by weeping willows. The stone statue of an angel above the polished slab seemed in bad taste to him.

Arthur gave him an understanding look as he knelt down to place lilies on the grave. When he rose again the sun flashed across his eyes, blinding him for just a second. It was too bright and warm of a day to be spending with the dead.

"It feels like a dream," Arthur murmured.

The wind carried the scent of yesterday on it, brushing past them as if to beckon them towards the future. Such a nostalgic smell made his head swim, the patterns of sunlight through the weeping willows were like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle scattered over the field; a kaleidoscope of light.

"It's not a dream, Arthur!" Alfred perked up. Rushing out of the shade of the willows he spread his arms wide like a child, as if he could embrace both the sun and sky. "Smell that fresh air! It's the start of great new things!"

Arthur frowned at him but followed him. "You're so optimistic. My economy is shot," he muttered.

"Don't worry, I'll help you out!" Alfred thumped his chest. "Besides, sometimes stuff like this has to happen so that new things can grow."

"I don't trust your loans anymore," Arthur shook his head, only half joking.

"How mean! I won't suddenly ask for a total repayment, I promise!"

"Who can believe the things that you say?" he retorted.

Without warning, Alfred flung himself on top of Arthur, almost toppling them both. "You're so cruel, Arthur! And I nursed you so lovingly these six years! Six years whilst you were bat-shit crazy!" he cried, trying to hide the fact that even mentioning it brought back unwelcome memories.

"...I know," Arthur shoved him off, growing pensive as he thought about the time that he had passed in a half-conscious state of insanity.

Even though it seemed a dream, he distinctly remembered the touch of a cool hand against his head and the presence of someone sitting by his side, always there to keep him company no matter how badly he cursed and screamed.

Arthur turned his back to Alfred so that he would not see the faint blush warming his cheeks as he muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Alfred stepped closer.

"I know," Arthur said. "Even though I can't really remember it very well, I remember feeling as though I was lost somewhere in a deep, dark place. I couldn't find the way out no matter how hard I tried but then...well, you found me and lead me out of that place so...so...thank you...I guess."

"You guess?"

Annoyed that Alfred was making him say it out loud, he took a deep breath and stiffly bellowed; "Thank - "

"Arthur," Alfred suddenly cut him off as he collided into his back, arresting his arms by wrapping himself around him.

"W – What?" Arthur tried to catch a glimpse of his face.

Alfred's breath tickled the back of his neck. He hugged him tighter, pressing his chest against Arthur's back.

"Welcome back."

For a moment Arthur was at loss for words. Then, slowly, he managed to worm himself around to look Alfred, nestling against his warm chest. Arthur closed eyes with what felt like contentment.

"...I'm back."


Thanks for reading. I was wondering whether to post these extra or not. It seems a waste to give them a chapter all on their own but also a waste to exclude them so...here they are.

Omake 1

Matthew stood outside Alfred's manor house. He was sure that this was the place Alfred had mentioned when he had called him but...he had been ringing the bell for three hours and no one had opened the door for him.

Had they all gone out? Were they asleep? Were they too busy looking after Arthur, who he had heard was in a bad shape, that they had failed to hear him ring?

He should go. If they were not going to open up then there was no point of being there. He was worried about Arthur but there was nothing he could do if no one was answering; he should just go back to Canada.

Heaving a sigh, Matthew rang the bell again.

"Alfred."

"Yes, Arthur?"

"What the bloody hell did you do to my house?"

"...Ah."

XX

You didn't think I forgot about him, did you? Poor Matthew, someone forgot to tell him that they were moving to London.