Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 10

Those of you who have read my profile know that I am a college student. I am studying architecture, which has a reputation for being time consuming. I have a nice long winter break, and this year I used it for working and writing fanfiction. My goal was to have this story completed before I went back, but I've known for a while now that it's not going to happen. Originally, this story was going to be only seven chapters and I would have been able to finish it, but I've added more and more content. Now, it will most likely be 12 chapters, and I go back to school tomorrow morning. So, what this means for you, my faithful readers, is that the time it takes for me to finish the last couple of chapters is a bit unpredictable at this point. The story will however be completed.

Arthur stood in his dilapidated tent, sewing a green patch onto the brown roof. The piece of fabric had been stolen from one of his shirt cuffs, since he had nothing else to use. He found sewing relaxing, so having to do so wasn't such a bad thing. However, it was a bit annoying that he had to sacrifice a shirt cuff. If only they had spare tents, he thought. Unfortunately, when Arthur asked colonel Hughes if there were any spares, he had said that all of the other tents were full, and that the only reason Arthur had a tent at all was because they were about to throw his out. Secretly, Arthur would have liked to sleep with Alfred in his bed. However, he knew that it would cause the soldiers to talk and to think strange things. Also, Arthur wasn't in the mood for talking to Alfred, so he never would have asked Alfred if he could at least sleep on the floor in his oversized, roomy tent. The last few days had been a bit awkward for Arthur. Ever since Alfred had tricked Arthur into thinking that he had a stomach ache a few nights before, Arthur had felt uncomfortable and embarrassed around Alfred. Not to mention that the incident had left Arthur not knowing what to do about his ever-growing feelings for Alfred. Arthur was not very good at expressing his feelings. Generally, Arthur had been avoiding Alfred as much as possible, and had been staying in his tent. However, he of course couldn't avoid Alfred completely since Alfred occasionally needed some medical attention. Every so often the short, stout, doctor, (who Arthur had learned was appropriately named Dr. Fuller), would ask Arthur to take care of Alfred for him while he went off and took care of the other soldiers. Dr. Fuller was convinced that Arthur had a "magic touch", as he called it, which unfortunately made the man call on Arthur for his help quite often, usually about two or three times per day. However, whenever Arthur was called to help, he was quiet around Alfred, and only made polite conversation. Physical contact was completely out of the question. Alfred had been behaving similarly to him, although Arthur wasn't sure why. Sitting next to Alfred on the bed and cuddling with him had made Arthur feel so warm inside that it was if he had been drunk, and Arthur wished more than anything that he could do that again, or that he could at least hold Alfred's hand for support. However, just the thought of talking to Alfred after what had happened recently made Arthur blush and feel shy. He was certain that Alfred had done it because he knew how Arthur felt about him. Why else would Alfred have smirked? If it was only a practical joke between two friends, surely Alfred would have just laughed, but Alfred had laughed and then smirked. Arthur finished sewing on the patch, then sat down with a sigh. He looked up from his cot, and eyed his handiwork. That looks like it should keep out all of the rain, he thought to himself. His eyes then wandered to a short stack of envelopes lying on his brown leather saddlebag. Arthur reached over and picked them up. These letters had just been delivered to him earlier that morning by Quincy, who had rode in on a pony. Arthur remembered smiling as he saw the tiny boy on his tiny steed bounding across the field to him. Arthur missed having smaller nations to take care of sometimes, and even though the boy was human and not a nation, Arthur felt paternal feelings for him lately. He noticed when he was taking the letters and thanking Quincy that Quincy's shoes were so old that his toes stuck out in the front, where the soles had pulled apart from the rest of the shoe. Arthur had made a mental note to himself to do something about that upon his return. After all, Quincy had no parents. Richard had found the young tramp wandering the streets of London around the same time that Alfred had declared his independence, and had trained the lad to be Arthur's official messenger boy. Later, the boy was brought with them to America. However, Arthur unfortunately had not bonded with the boy much back then due to his drinking issue and due to stress. Arthur went through the stack, and found a few letters from various staff members regarding serious matters. He read these first. There was a letter from the head mason about the repairs on the stone wall. There was a letter from the head doctor reporting more causalities. Another was from the chef reporting a food shortage. There also was a letter from Richard, who Arthur considered to be more of a friend than a staff member.

Dear General Arthur Kirkland,

I have notified the others of your reasons for leaving, just as you instructed me to do. Your boss is not aware of the situation yet since word travels slowly across an ocean. Most likely he will not be aware for a couple more months, when some American merchants will no doubt arrive in England and spill the beans while unloading their fish or selling their wares. Most people I speak to are relieved that there will be no more fighting. I guess that after the last battle, everyone must have lost hope in winning. Now, everyone just wants peace, including me. I admire you for making such a difficult decision by the way.

A lot has been happening here in the last few days. For one thing, the holes in the walls are starting to be repaired. Most of the men will be taking a boat home after the construction is complete. However, I, along with Quincy, and some of the important staff members will be staying. We will stay until you leave, which will be after you have signed the treaty.

The holes in the walls unfortunately let in some nasty rodents, and now there is a food shortage but the men are learning to fish from me. We have been catching many large fish from the ocean, and many of them are fish that we don't have back in England. They are quite delicious and plump. Also, the rats aren't bad if you sprinkle a little salt on them.

Quincy and I are doing well. Quincy is learning how to fish with the men and he is enjoying himself thoroughly, even though he needs someone to help him reel in the fish. I hope that you are doing as well as we are.

Best Regards, Richard Mason

Arthur smiled warmly knowing that his friend was thinking of him. Now then, I guess I better start responding to these, he thought to himself. I'll start with the urgent ones from the staff. Then I'll write to Richard. Arthur pulled a pen and some parchment out of his bag and began to write.

Before Arthur knew it, two hours had passed. He sat there on his cot, with the finished letters in front of him and stretched his arms up. Now I just need to write to Richard, he thought. Oh wait I nearly forgot, I wanted to write to Antonio, Lovino, and Feliciano some time too. It will take a couple of months to get to them by boat, but it would be worth it. I haven't written to them much this year, I should do that soon. Maybe I will later tonight if I get the chance. His thought process was interrupted suddenly by the sound of Dr. Fuller's cheery voice from just outside of the tent.

"Arthur supper is ready. You should join colonel Hughes and I. We are eating around a campfire with the men."

Arthur did not think that colonel Hughes would be happy to see him, but Dr. Fuller was a kind, friendly man and he didn't want to say no to him.

"Sure, I'll follow you out."

With that, the two men exited the tent and went outside. Arthur followed Dr. Fuller to the large firepit, where there was a large stag roasting on a spit. Surrounding the deer there were rows and rows of log benches, all of which were arranged in circles. The men looked up from their plates of venison and potatoes and looked up at Arthur. There was still tension in the air, but a few of the soldiers greeted him politely. Surprisingly, colonel Hughes greeted him as well.

"Hello general Arthur, I see you've come to join us. Go over to the chef and he will serve you some food. The plates and such are in that crate."

"Thank you colonel Hughes."

Arthur grabbed a plate and the red-haired chef served him his food with a smile. Arthur thought that the camp members were being a bit more friendly than usual and he wondered why. Arthur did not want to question it however, and sat down on a log next to the doctor, who was happily shoving an entire potato in his mouth. It was a small potato, but it still made Arthur wonder how such a feat was even possible. As Arthur bit into the venison, he looked all around to try to find Alfred. Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, there was a loud clanging as the colonel hit his fork against his tin mug.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make!"

The well-disciplined soldiers immediately stopped talking.

"Tonight we have a lot to celebrate! Of course for one thing, it is the Fourth of July today. But also, we should celebrate general Kirkland. I know what you're all thinking, but this man here has helped us out a lot over the past few days. General Kirkland has been taking very good care of Alfred, and for that we must thank him. Not only is Alfred improving and having less fits, but everyone else has been able to get some shut eye."

"Shall we get out a barrel of beer?", asked one of the soldiers.

"Yes! We should!", said another. "What better way to celebrate!? I will open one now!"

The man came back later with a whole barrel of beer, and promptly opened it up. Everyone lined up to fill their cups with the golden liquid.

"A toast to our country, to Arthur, to Arthur's country and to peace!", exclaimed the doctor.

Arthur smiled, finally feeling like he belonged at camp. He filled up his cup, and toasted with the men. Foam and beer sprayed out as the men smiled and toasted each other enthusiastically. Arthur ate his venison and potatoes as the men talked about their families at home, and about how excited they were to see them again. Most of Alfred's men would be going home very soon. Arthur drank until he felt warm and tingly inside. He was about to fill up his mug again when suddenly the doctor approached him.

"Arthur I'm sorry but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to check up on Alfred soon. I'm worried about him. Usually he joins us for dinner. Something must be wrong because he loves eating. Just make sure that you do it before you go to bed."

"Of course sir." Arthur paused then added "I will go right now as a matter of fact."

"Ok, we'll still be here later when you return. The men are going to set off some homemade fireworks. They spent all day making them today."

Arthur left, wondering to himself why Alfred was not at dinner earlier since he had successfully walked by himself yesterday. It concerned Arthur, which is why he had decided to check on him sooner rather than later. Arthur's stomach churned nervously as he approached the entrance to Alfred's tent. He exhaled slowly, then opened the flap. There, sitting on his bed on the bearskins was Alfred. He was dressed in his white shirt and tan breeches. His feet were bare. Alfred turned his head to look at Arthur. The two men stared at each other for a minute until Arthur broke the silence.

"I-I came to check up on you. Are you ok?"