The war, Francis predicted, would be over by winters end. Arthur was inclined to agree with his prediction as his parliament was not going to keep supporting the war without results. Without Ivan to lean to help lead the front line troops of the Russian army it did not seem like anyone was quiet as well off to command as he had been and with the exception of a few battles—namely when Rossiya, led by one Captain Viktor Poplonsky defended Russian dockyards at Sveaborg outside Helsinki where they suffered a huge loss to the Russians—but then there were plenty of times were they forced the Reds into giving up their hold and retreating.
Arthur rubbed at his temples as he glared down at Francis across the room. His head pounded.
"I cannot take much more of this war," He growled out softly causing Francis to smile over at him. "Or you. What are you still doing here?" He asked. Francis only shrugged and set down the book he was reading.
"I am here to watch over my son. Have you had any correspondence from Sadiq?" He asked. Arthur nodded.
"Yes, a month or so back. Never showed it to Matthew though. He did surprisingly express an interest in Matthew still. As long as he was still a virgin. I wrote back stating that he of course was. I know I was less then kind to him in the past but I do trust that he would not lie on a matter such as this. Not to me. Not when it is such an important matter,"
"I would think the same. Not with how he acts. I have spoken with the Red in your basement as well who insists to me that he will be marrying Matthew. He gives me no reason to believe that he has done anything less then innocent with Matthew. Aside from kissing of course. And before you even say anything I've seen Sadiq do the same thing with Matthew so there is no difference there," Arthur's mouth opened for a moment before he shut it. "Why are you so against that fact that Matthew wishes to marry the Red? Other than the fact of his nationality?" Arthur gave him a pointed glare.
"Beyond the nationality, he is a brutal man. You've heard the stories. Plus he's natural born killer on the field. Why would I want to send him into the arms of a maniac?" Francis stayed quiet. "Besides. We want to marry him off to a prince. Not some army man,"
"Do they not remind you of us?" Francis asked quietly. "We married. I seem to recall some stories about you that were not so pleasant. Of your plundering and of the sea battles. Off for months at a time while I stayed home with the boys,"
"Those were different times," Arthur growled. "And you are just the same as you were then. Nothing but a womanizer,"
"Yes. Yes that may be true but I was never unfaithful to you. As much as you fail to believe me on the matter. And while that may have been the reasoning for our.. split as it were, I don't think it was the entire cause. But back to the point I was trying to make. Remember when we first met? Before we were formally introduced? You were so cute, such a mop of hair on your head. So wild and free. I thought..." He trailed off as he shook his head before looking over at Arthur. Francis couldn't remember a time when he had ever been so open with Arthur. Not in a long time anyways. "I thought, who is this boy? This cute little boy with the wide green eyes that didn't seem to have a care in the world? Someday he would be a great power and I would have the pleasure of knowing such a great person. But I never dreamt that we would ever get as close as we did. I know I am careless with my affection Arthur. But you must know that I've loved you since that very first day we met in that grassy field," Arthur remained quiet and Francis noted that he still hadn't made his point. "What I am saying is that although you may not see it does not mean it is not there Arthur. Perhaps you don't know how your youngest son is feeling. Have you ever truly been in love with someone so much that you would do anything for them? Everything that has happened since Ivan came to this country—his escape. Matthew fleeing. How sickly he became. That is all because Matthew would do anything at this point to help his Red soldier,"
"Matthew is the one that let him escape?" Arthur asked after a moment. Francis shrugged.
"After I gave him your keys,"
"You what?!"
"I'm surprised. Honestly Arthur. Matthew had no way to get into your rooms. Who else would have had a chance to get in there but me?" He asked. Arthur waved him off as he let out a hot burst of air.
"Nothing you have said changes my feelings on the matter Francis," He responded after a few minutes of silence. Francis let out an aggravated sigh.
"I don't know why I bothered," Francis said as he stood up. "Obviously nothing touches your heart you cold hearted bastard," He muttered as he left the parlour. Arthur fell back against the plush backing of the chair he was sitting on and rubbed at his temples again; trying to process the information that Francis had provided him.
Did the Frenchman honestly think that Arthur had not loved him at all? He did understand the concept of 'love at first sight' but it had never happened to him. He had gradually fallen for the sweet talking Frenchie. Even now he still had feelings for him even though he'd never admit it. He worried at his lip. He was not cold hearted. How could Francis say that after all these years? He tilted his head upwards, blinking rapidly at the burning behind his eyes. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, letting out a choked noise as he pushed himself to his feet. He wiped at his eyes as he walked over to the door. He paused, his hand on the door knob before opening it and exiting the parlour. He quickly made his way up to his personal rooms. It was just his luck that he ran into Matthew on the stairs. They both paused to look at each other momentarily.
"Father, are you...are you alright?" Matthew asked softly.
"Fine," Arthur grunted out before continuing up the stairs. He was annoyed when he heard Matthew following behind him.
"Father...what's wrong? I have not seen you cry since Alfred left," Arthur's head whipped around to glare at Matthew. "I'm..I'm sorry, I didn't...I mean.." he trailed off.
"No, no I'm...I'm not sure Matthew," He said after a minute. "Are you busy?" Matthew shook his head.
"I was going to take Ivan his lunch but if you want to talk, he will understand," Arthur nodded.
"Come then," He motioned for Matthew to follow him to his rooms. He called to one of the maids to bring tea and biscuits before having Matthew sit in one of the chairs he had in his sitting room. The pair sat in silence until after the maid returned with the tea.
"So what is going on Father? I have not seen you so upset in quiet some time," Matthew asked. Arthur remained quiet for another few minutes.
"Your father called me cold hearted bastard and said that nothing touches my heart. He..." Arthur trailed off, unsure if he should be talking to his youngest about these things. Matthew leaned over and touched his hand before smiling a reassuring smile. "He told me, or rather he reminded me of when we first met. Before we had..gotten together I suppose you could call it. Sprouting things about love at first sight and that I should know how you...feel. But I don't. Your father...well you know how he is. He believes in all that nonsense. Not me. It took awhile for me to even trust him, let alone fall in love with him," Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose willing himself not to let the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes fall. "Honestly! He makes it seem like I never loved him at all! I know my parents arranged our marriage for political reasons but after being friends for so long and then being pushed into something like that I couldn't help but feel as I did, but that doesn't mean I didn't love him. I may not hhave expressed it very often if at all but...How..why would he say that!?" He pressed his thumb and index finger against his closed eyelids as tears seeped down his cheeks.
"Father...I don't think Papa meant it like that...regardless of how you act outwardly, he knows you love him. Even now. I just think that...he was referring to not being able to relate your own relationship to mine. I really think you should be talking to him about this. But...perhaps...perhaps you should just tell him once in a while eh? You may not be 'together' but I know Papa still loves you and all he wants is for you two to rekindle what you once had. You've been so withdrawn since Alfred left. It's almost the same as when Papa left, only Alfred's not around for you to dote on," Matthew picked up his tea cup and took a sip before cradling the warm cup in his palms.
"Yes, I suppose," Arthur breathed out taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Perhaps...perhaps you should go back to France with him when he leaves this time. He would certainly be a better father than I have been,"
"I'm not going to leave you here by yourself," Matthew declared in a soft tone. "I know I haven't been the best son, but I still love you and until you've seen me wed I will remain here," Arthur nodded with a bob of his head. "I am sorry about what happened with Sadiq. I think if I had not met Ivan, we could have been good for each other. He is a very sweet man,"
"Yes, well..." He trailed off. "He is still very interested in you as long as you have in fact remained untouched," Matthew felt his cheeks pink. "Which I'm sure you are and I reassured him as such. If you had actually did anything with that brute of a man while you were with him it would have been obvious to spot," Matthew cheeks darkened more.
"Father can we not talk about that?" He muttered, embarrassed. Arthur ignored his request as he continued.
"I wrote back stating that I wasn't sure what was going to happen at this point and would get back in touch with him...Matthew, I...I cannot allow you to marry that Red. Our family has been in decline for decades. We need you to marry a royal," Matthew worried at his lip. "I can see if there is a Prince from the east, but Russia's tzars only have daughters to my knowledge. Unless you'd prefer that,"
"No," Matthew responded as he continued to bit at his bottom lip. "I just wish...Father, I love Ivan. I've never felt this way before. When I see him my heart starts to beat faster and when he has his hands upon me—when he brushes my hair back or kisses my hand or cheek—it just feels like...it's indescribable really. Ivan makes me really happy," Arthur let out a loud sigh.
"Matthew, I understand that you love him, but this marriage isn't one of love. It's political and I'm sorry for that," He stated after a few moments of silence had passed. Matthew cast his gaze to his hands which were currently clasped together in his lap.
"I..I understand,"
"Perhaps if the siruation were different I might have allowed it, but while Braginski is a general he doesn't have any sway in matters. In matters that count. I'm sorry Matthew. I know this is not what you wanted to hear but your engagement to Sadiq still stands,"
"Y-yes Father,"
"It will not be for another year or so, depending in this stupid war. This should give you plenty of time to adjust. I will not be sending word to Safiq until after the war is over so if another suitor comes in the meantime, it will be your choice however as unlikely as that is...not that you are not beautiful enough of course, to have more suitors but most have already been..well, spoken for,"
"I understand," Matthew looked over at his father with a sad smile. "You should reconcile with Papa," He told him. "I don't want you to be lonely after I leave," Arthur snorted.
"I could perhaps, but then we'd just end up fighting like always," He chuckled and wiped at his eyes again, clearing them of any lingering tears from his eyes.
"But isn't that the point of it? I remember when I was younger and Papa was still here, and Al was still here, you would fight and fight but at the end when everything was over...I remember this one fight that you had, you had slapped him so hard. I don't remember what the fight was about but it ended with you slapping him so hard and then the next day everything was back to normal but that next day I remember you looked so happy and I had though, we'll if this is what marriage is—with all its ups and down—if the end result was being as happy as it sometimes made you; it wouldn't be so bad," Arthur was at a loss for words and they sat there in silence. Matthew finished his now cool tea before putting the cup back on his saucer. "You shouldn't dwell so much on the bad Father," He said as he stood. He placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder before he turned and left the room, leaving Arthur to think further on their conversation.
Matthew brought Ivan his dinner with little issue. Francis was no were to be found so he made up some sandwiches and tea and brought it to the Russian's cell. He set the tray of food down on the table that now resided next to the door before pulling a key ring out of his pocket and walking over to Ivan who appeared to be sleeping. Like he always did when he came across the Russian sleeping he brushed back ash locks from his eyes as he watched him for a moment. He moved slightly, enough to reach over and manoeuvre Ivan's wrists around from their current position resting against his stomach and place the key into the lock, enjoying the clinking sound as the two strips of iron unclasped. He gently pulled the shackles from Ivan's wrists, setting it down quietly as possible on the floor. He then sat down on the floor beside the 'bed' and leaned against it for a few moments before he reached up and took one of Ivan's now freed hands in his own, carefully running his fingers against the others, over the back of his hand and over his palm. Ivan let out a low groan from the back of his throat as he woke, his hand jerking away from Matthew's as he sat up groggily.
"Matvey, wrong?" He mumbled. "Vhat's wrong?"
"Hmm? Oh. Nothing I suppose. I just had a very odd conversation with my father. He... he still has plans for me to marry Sadiq but...I don't really know how to explain it. He was upset at Papa but it was still so odd. He said if another suitor came I could choose to marry them however I don't think that will happen," Matthew twisted around to look at Ivan. "Why couldn't you be a real prince Ivan?" He asked before turning away. "I'm sorry. Perhaps you should just give up on me. I'm not the right person for you at all it seems,"
"Matvey, you are all I ever want. I vill not give up so easily. You vait until war is over. I come to you and you vill be wife," Matthew said nothing in reply and allowed Ivan to move off the bed and down to the floor before the blonde let out a squeak of surprise when the older man pulled him into his lap and wrapped his arms around Matthew's midsection. The pair settled in comfortably after Matthew had retrieved the tray of food. Ivan picked away at it while they continued to murmur in quiet tones together until Arthur interrupted them a few hours later when Matthew was half asleep in Ivan's arms, his face pressed against his throat.
"Matthew," Arthur stated, watching as the younger blonde slowly came to. "I was wondering where you had gotten to. I thought you were only bringing him down lunch?" He asked. His eyes darted to the shackles sitting on the floor beside him. He shook his head in disbelief. "I should have known better,"
"Oh, I...Sorry Father. I.." Matthew trailed off. "Ivan would not try to hurt me," He stated as he moved to rise from the floor. Ivan instantly released his hold and allowed the movement. "Besides if he did I think having the chains on would do more damage,"
"Yes, well that may be but you are already giving him special treatment. He does not need even more. You will ruin my reputation," Matthew looked down at his feet before bending down to pick up the keys and shackles. He turned back to Ivan who was pushing himself up to set on the edge of the bed. He held his hands out without being prompted and allowed Matthew to lock the heavy iron cuffs around his wrists once more.
"All better?" Arthur nodded and Matthew went to get get the now empty tray from the floor. He stepped closer to Ivan, allowing the Russian to take his hand and kiss the back of it—he didn't want to push his luck with a kiss on the lips with Arthur here—which caused Matthew to giggle and hide his smile behind his hand. "Goodnight Ivan. I will see you tomorrow," He smiled demurely at him before leaving the cell, trailing after his father.
"You shouldn't do that," Arthur muttered when they had reached the hallway. "What is something happened and you were hurt? Remember what he did last time he escaped?"
"I do Father. I'm sorry. If it upsets you I will no longer do it," Arthur nodded.
"I would like that," He answered. Matthew followed him though the hallways and to the sunroom. Arthur motioned for a maid to bring tea as he had earlier in the morning and they sat at around enjoying the sun while it lasted. Anne brought out tea and they sipped away at it. Eventually Francis joined them with fresh tea and scones.
"Papa these are great!" Matthew told him as he took another bite of the blueberry scone in his hand. "The dusting of sugar on top really gives it that extra little 'umh!' you know?" Francis flashed him a smile and moved slightly closer to Arthur on the bench seat they were sitting on. Arthur picked up his cup a tea and sipped at it.
"What did you put in this? It tastes odd," Arthur asked as he took another sip of tea before placing the teacup back on it's saucer that was on the arm of the bench.
"I irished it up a bit," Francis admitted, laughing. Arthur turned and punched him in the arm as Matthew decided to taste of the tea.
"Spit that out!" Arthur growled at him but Matthew looked back at him with widened eyes and swallowed. Arthur let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. "Francis, take that from him," He demanded. Francis shook his head as he started to laugh.
"It's only about an ounce. No one is getting drunk off it love," Arthur still glared at him.
"Regardless. You shouldn't have did it anyways,"
"Did it not improve the taste?"
"No," Arthur responded pointedly. "It did not at all," He turned away from Francis, looking out into the bland backdrop of the grounds around the home.
"If it will make you happy I won't drink any more," Matthew stated as he set the cup down on his saucer.
"No. I suppose Francis is right," He said after a terse moment of silence. "I am overreacting," He admitted. Francis leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Stop that," he mumbled.
"What has gotten into you L'Angleterre? You are so forgiving this afternoon," Arthur didn't respond to his comment; choosing to ignore Francis in favour running a hand though his hair. Francis smiled at the action and quickly pressing a hand to the side of his face and leaning in to kiss Arthur who sputter at the action. Matthew giggled at the pair and stood up. "Are you leaving?" Francis asked.
"Oui. I'm going to work on my studies for a while," He took a few steps forward before leaning down to kiss both his fathers on the cheek. "Send someone to fetch me for supper, da?" Matthew froze half way though pulling away from his father. "Umm yes, please," He quickly turned and exited the sun room. "Enjoy your afternoon!" He called as he shut the door and wanted upstairs to work on his studies.
