Um, did I ever tell you, readers, how much I love you all? Because you gave me 10, 311 hits. And I'm still on the ninth chapter! :DDDDD How amazing is that? I give you all cyber hugs for reading.

Anyways, I added random SuFin~~~! :D Who loves me? :cricket: Meh...so, anyways, you finally get to see why Alfred is so madly in love with Arthur now~! :even though he already is COUCH COUGH WHAT!: Ahem... This story got its first fanart! :D Yaaaay~! I found it on tumblr and had a heart attack over it because it wasn't anything I had posted XD Go to my tumblr page, which is going to be on my author's page soon :3, and just look at one of the newest posts. So yeah. I was really proud of that pic.

Okay, so~! Hey, what gives! A short A/N. Huh...I own nothing but the plot. If I did...I would not be here writing this, would I? :3 Yeah...so, as always:

Enjoy~!


Chapter 9:

Discoveries

After Tino left and Arthur was invited inside, Matthew had only offered a cup of tea to the Brit before the shaggy blond embraced the Canadian tightly and let the emotions from this morning take over him for a few minutes. Luckily, he knew Matthew well enough so that he didn't mind nearly being tackled by his friend. They were also comfortable enough with one another to let him see he was crying.

However, this time, it was different. The Englishman refused to let his face be seen from the other. He felt relaxed to let the other see him like this, yes, but it was the reason that he refused to let him see. Matthew was in love, so deep inside the pit that unlike Arthur, he didn't mind if they were different species. Arthur was confused, and didn't know what to follow: his head, or his heart. Both were convincing, and both proved good points, but one was rational, and the other was bold. He was too confused and maybe Tino was right that he was naïve, but he could care less right now. No one understood what was going on in his mind except for him.

"Do you want a cup of tea to help calm you down?" Matthew asked after Arthur quieted down, but was still hiding his face with the former rubbing his back slowly and soothingly.

"That would help loads," he sniffed, stepping away so that the shorter could start preparing the drink in the tiny kitchen. He hadn't had a cup of tea in a long time, ever since he had spent a day with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the First, just a few months ago. He could recall his mother stated that a Kirkland had Earl's Grey tea instead of blood fueling inside them. His mother was beautiful, he remembered, and he sat down in one of the wooden chairs in the kitchenette as he drifted through his memories back when he was a human. He remembered the smell of her cooking, the freshly baked scones and biscuits, whenever he would come home from school as a little boy, even as a teen; her knitting for her older, immature sons that found it boring, and eventually teaching Arthur, her youngest, how to embroider and such; she telling him after his first kiss from a girl that it was okay to not have liked it (even though he didn't like the fact that he enjoyed his first kiss from a boy); her comforting voice gently in his ear whenever he was sad and she sang him a comforting lullaby that she said would always be his, no matter what happened to him. He missed her a lot, especially; at least he had the opportunity to visit her after her death. She still looked the same, too: emerald eyes, long blond hair that she had grown out over the years, a kind smile that was ever so warm and filled with love. Arthur could definitely say she was the only woman he loved.

As for male….

A cup atop a saucer was placed in front of him gently, shaking him from his daydream, and causing a smile to rise on his lips. "Thank you." Matthew returned the gesture kindly, and sat down across from him, looking out the window at the departing demons. Arthur glanced over as well, and shivered at the far from normal, more like beastly sounds before hugging his tea cup in his hands and looking away. He wished he could get away somehow, at least to the Surface. He wanted a rescue team to at least try to come down and help the trapped angels. He's sure others in their region escaped, like Feliks Łukasiewicz from Poland and Grecian Heracles Karpusi. He can vaguely recall seeing them escaping (he wondered how Toris took Feliks betraying him; the two had been as close as he and Yao were). "Matthew."

The Canadian glanced over at him.

"I…I'll tell you what happened when I finish this, alright?"

He gave a kind grin, "Of course. Tell me when you're ready."

The two sat in the silence for no more than five minutes, before the Englishman cleared his throat, tracing a hand around the rim of the cup. "Well…I had decided to bid Alfred farewell, since he would be leaving what would be today. And…everything was going so well, but…last night, I had a dream. And, I had one like this a while back, where…I was there, with Alfred, but…I was in love with him, somehow." His cheeks turned a cherry color, and he bowed his head, bangs drooping over his eyes, to hide his blush. "But last night, I had one, where, there was someone that looked like Alfred, but I knew it couldn' be him, even though my dream self had called him 'Alfred' and I…I had a vision of sorts in my dream, where…I looked into his mind and…saw bits of what I believed were his death. And when I questioned Alfred before he departed, he…w-well…he freaked out, and…a-and said that I should be gone by the time he comes back."

Matthew sat with his chin in his hands, other fingers tapping on the table as he contemplated this. His purple eyes stared at a particular spot on the table, and the Englishman nervously fumbled around in his seat. The Canadian raised his head to gaze at the shaggy blond, and there was a wondrous intelligence inside his eyes. "I don't think you can actually kick your servant out; we're practically bound to our masters. And by what I've heard from Francis, he has a really bad temper and gets angry quickly, but when he does, he returns to normal just as quickly. I'm sure he didn't mean any of what he said, and if he did, he's going to apologize when he sees you again."

"But whot if he was serious? I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if he hates me for a mistake as stupid as that that's all because of me."

He chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. "It seems like you care about him more than you let on."

Once again, his cheeks betrayed him brightly, and he sheepishly hugged his shoulders. "I-I don't, I see him as a caring, um…demon, a-and he's nice to me, a-and…I-I can't love him like you love Francis! It won't work with us."

The violet-eyed angel sighed out of his mouth. "Arthur…I think you need to see something."


The two made their way through the small house to the back, where it connected with the mountain, and Matthew led them through a door, then a corridor shaped from an open-mouthed cave in the Mountain of the Three Fates. The way was dark besides the dim light from the torches that were mounted on the roughly carved walls. Laughter and a language not English filed in from the end of the path. Arthur heard the familiarity of the two voices, one cheerful and boisterous, and the other less than the former but still containing some sort of strange happiness. He focused on the voices a b it more, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Who else is down here with us?" He wondered.

"Only Feliciano and Lovino," he replied, giving a quick glance backwards. The eyebrows changed his reaction to one of shock.

"They reunited?"

"Yeah, only yesterday; it was pretty sweet. Feli refused to let go of Lovino, and they both looked so happy." He glanced behind him to gaze into the green eyes. "Yao asked for you."

The corridor didn't seem so wide and open anymore, the floor not as steady as it was before. The Briton blinked rapidly to secure his vision, but only made it worse. "Wh-whot?"

"Yao asked for you, just yesterday after we left you and Alfred and Francis and I went to him and his master, Kiku. He wanted to know if you were okay, and I said you were. Which reminds me;" he halted and reached down to pull a piece of paper from being held against the rope belt around his waist. "He said to give this to you."

Arthur tugged the folded piece of paper from his hand (before muttering an apology) and opened it up quickly, to see the neat, slanted and connected handwriting.

Arthur,

Nihao aru. I do not have enough time to tell you what has happened, but I have enough where I can inform you of what you need to know. I will write quickly, though, because it is a lot.

First, I am afraid to inform you that I am no longer allowed outside of Hell aru. My wings have been in the same state since I came here, so I assume they cannot repair themselves, my body is always hurting, and my halo is cracked severely, completely out of work. I feel weak all the time, and my energy is always drained. There is no way I can make it out of here like this aru. Second, there is something you need to know about the demons. Their reasons for capturing angels like us are dark ones. They wish to spawn more demons by keeping angels here long enough so that they can convert them to their side aru. They get close to you, by what Kiku has told me, and they start to make you fall for them before they…well, before they decided to…remove your angel characteristics and replace them with those of a demon. It's horrid, and the process is painful, as told by Kiku. He is my new "master", and apparently, he has told me that I will fall just like the others. And three, this is a warning aru. Be careful with who you trust; I am sure you will be, but during my life on the Surface I saw many fall before me, all because they made the wrong mistake. Please, be careful, dear friend.

I'm afraid I must leave here aru. I hear Kiku coming back with that French demon that tried to seduce you at the Royal Gate. I promise, I will keep in touch with you aru. I don't think our "masters" will like us seeing each other, but I will make sure this letter reaches you. Matthew can be our messenger, if he must; I do not want to lose contact of my closest friend.

From, your dearest friend,

Yao

P.S. Look at the eyes of the demon. You will see something strange in their behaviors from others of different and similar iris color.

By the time Arthur had finished it, the letter was marked with new tear stains over the old ones and the ink was starting to smear. He blinked the water off his eyelids, and wiped the rest off with careful fingers. He took a deep breath, looking up at the Canadian with relief. "I can't believe…oh dear."

"I don't mind carrying your letters back and forth," he shrugged gently. "Francis and I are always out walking, so I can deliver it to him fairly quickly. He likes to, um…make paints from the water at the bottom of the falls, and I always saw Kiku and Yao talking."

"Y-you would do that?" He felt even more liquid sting his vision, and he had to bow his head. What did he do to deserve to meet such a kind soul as Matthew's?

"Of course I would. I saw what your relationship was with him. You two were so close to each other. Plus, you're not that far away from each other. He's literally at the bottom of the Mountain of the Three Fates."

Arthur hastily made sure his thanks and gratitude was shoved into a hug as gentle as he could with his injuries that stung at fast movements. "Thank you so much, Matthew."

The skinny arms returned the gesture with a quiet "You're welcome, Arthur".

About a minute later, after standing there in the other's embrace, they finally managed to complete the rest of their journey to the end of the passageway, and to the Englishman's delight, he found himself standing wide-eyed and awestruck at the sight that was before him.

Books of all sizes were stacked together around the octagonal-shaped room, a bookcase on each of the seven sides that faced the entrance. There was not a single vertical space open for another book on the shelves, every possible space filled up with something. There were even some books stacked horizontal-on-vertical. The smell was wonderful of fresh pages and musty air and the aroma only a library could have, one filled to the brim with words and intelligence. Arthur felt a bit of nostalgia wash over him, and he felt as if he was a human again, back before the blitz killed him, surrounded by books of all kind that made him stay inside for hours with Merlin curled in his lap, and Juliet and Othello acting as protectors at his sock-covered feet while he read. He drowned himself in books, and loved their feel, their smell, their sound, their offering of knowledge. And he loved them like a parent loved its child. There were few books in the Heavens, and for some reason he hadn't touch or felt a book in nearly seventy years.

Matthew noticed his faint smile (through still lightly damp cheeks, mind you) and couldn't help but grin at the sight of the amazed Brit. "I found it when I came here," he explained, looking at the books as well. "There seem to be tons of them. You can probably find at least a hundred authors in here."

"Why would someone keep a library in a mountain, though? Why not build a separate wing for it?" He inquired, looking down to see the platform they were on led down to the floor and comfy chairs. He would definitely be coming back here.

"Francis said that they're books about humans, written by humans, books about angels- even books about demons. But he said the information they hold is so valuable, they had to hide it. He says he's not a big fan of anything in books unless it's an art book, and he told me he'd rather hide a library full of books with important info than have them fall into the wrong hands."

"This is his?"

He nodded. "Mhm, Francis said there's too much information that could destroy the Surface, so he hides it in here."

The bright-green-eyed male chuckled quietly under his breath. "Strange thing to say, considering his species."

Matthew frowned. "Not all demons are faithful to their Boss. They want to break away from him and do what pleases them. Francis only beca—" He bit his tongue. "Francis only follows him because he's still bound to him."

"Arthur!"

Arthur had opened his mouth to comment, but was cut off when he was suddenly tackled around the waist. The blond flapped his wings once to keep himself balanced, wincing at their soreness, before he tried to gaze at the (clearly recognized as) angel that had tackled him.

"Arthur! I can't believe it, you're actually here~! Lovino said you weren't going to but I knew you'd come to see us because you were always so nice and friendly to me, so I knew for sure you wouldn't betray me, right~! Plus you always let me make pasta for you and you always enjoyed it~!"

Of course. Feliciano. Even in his currently mushy mood, he couldn't stay mad at the lad, and even managed to keep a steady smile on his face. "Hello, Feli. It feels like I haven't seen you in ages."

"I haven't seen you in ages either! Well, maybe that one time when we were in that arena place, but I didn't get to talk to you for very long~!"

"Feliciano!" Lovino's harsh snap echoed around the room, causing the other Italian and the one he was hugging to look down at his brother, standing in front of his chair that had a table covered with open and closed books. "Get back down here! I'm not going to work by myself!"

"Sorry, Big Brother." He unraveled himself from the embrace and jumped into the air, floating down besides his brother and landing a bit clumsily. "I'm back~! Did you miss me, Lovi~?"

The older brother huffed. "Sure, Feli, just sit down."

"Ve~~~! Okay~!"

Matthew and Arthur took the way down to the Italian duo by stairs, while the older glared at them through his dark chestnut hair. "It's about time you two showed up."

"Better than not coming at all," the Canadian remarked, and Lovino snorted, before the former turned to the new arrival. "Did Yao mention something in his letter about the eyes of a demon?"

The Englishman nodded as he sat down by the sweeter of the brothers. "Something about their behaviors being determined by their eye color," he guessed.

Lovino nodded, sour mood lessening as he spoke. "Depending on the eye colors of demons, they have certain behaviors that are different from Sons of the Dark of different iris colors. For instance," his cheeks glowed a bright red, and he bowed his head with a smile, "A-Antonio and Francis are in the same category because of their eyes- deep blood red- and have close to the same behaviors."

"And Ludwig is in another category," Feliciano sighed dreamily with a flush of his face as well. "His eyes are so pretty and pale."

Arthur bowed his head in slight embarrassment. "Alfred has the same pair as Ludwig."

Almost instantly, the younger Italian jumped up and clapped his hands. "That's so wonderful~! Do you know what that means, Arthur~?" The blond shook his head cautiously, and the hazel-eyed angel grinned even wider. "It's wonderful~! You're going to love it~!"

"Uh, Feli, I don't think-" Matthew began, but the Briton cut him off.

"Whot's it mean?" He wondered, eyes showing curiosity and demand. The Canadian nibbled on his lower lip nervously. "Matthew, I need to know. Whot does it mean?"

"Ah, well…according to the books here that Feli and Lovino looked in, there are approximately four iris shades. Demons with dark, black eyes that only have a purpose to capture and either kill or transform. Then, there are dark red eyes like blood, like what Francis and Antonio have."

"Okay, whot's that represent?"

"It stands for a demon that fell in love with a human," Lovino clarified. "But it also has the meaning of a passionate demon that wants love or lust."

"And that's whot you two have?"

The two lovers of Francis and (now) Antonio nodded, the latter more bashful than the other.

"Alright, whot else is there?"

"Well, there's demons with a wine red iris color, almost burgundy or claret. They don't have much of a desire to love, but they could like it either way. They're more serious and focus on wanting to do what they're meant to, but they don't mind having a bit of love."

Arthur now seemed overly anxious, and leaned forward over the books on the desk. "Whot about Alfred's eyes? Whot does it mean if a demon has pale red eyes?" This was important; he needed to know this, and fast. He had been wondering what those eyes meant for so long; he needed to know now.

Matthew gulped, and bowed his head. "Those with pale red eyes…are lonely and looking for love. They want to be loved, a-and they go through so many humans and angels before they find their perfect match and bond with them. And…th-that's what Alfred has with you…why he is what he is."

The Englishman blinked and sat back down in his chair, amazement and surprise shown on his face. That explained the childishness, the immaturity, the little nicknames. Everything Alfred did now made sense. Crazy, American, endearing Alfred. Alfred who was so foolish and careless and seemed to care so much for him. Why did the American have to fall for an angel like Arthur? Why did he have to be so…oh, what was he to him? Why did that innocent, childlike demon make him so confused and make his mind swim with what was wrong and what was right? Just…why?

There was yelling beside him and his shoulders were shaking from Feliciano, and Arthur realized he was hyperventilating, panicking rapidly. The more he realized his breathing was harsh, the faster the breaths left his body. Lovino was trying to catch his attention, snapping his fingers and switching from Italian to English rapidly. Matthew got out of his chair to help him, but the Brit was already out of it.