A/N: Answer to Dreamshipper229 regarding whether Alfred and Arthur will always be in the friend zone: Can I be cheeky say wait and see? ;D If you're still curious after this chapter I will let you know!
Chapter Song: Rivers and Roads - The Head and the Heart ( watch?v=e2J-0EtsCpo)
Chapter 13: Nothing Has Changed, Everything is Different
The grass was crisp underfoot and Alfred enjoyed the satisfying crunch it made beneath the sole of his boot each time his footing found an undisturbed patch. His breath puffed out in white clouds to join the trails of mist lining the horizon and encircling tree trunks, shading the pure, orange light of the rising sun just glimmering on the edge of being. The air grazed his face like frost, leaving his cheeks pink before rising to form the white sky above his head. The trees around him seemed black as silhouettes and naked without their leaves - any last foliage now on the ground around them, stiff with ice in the rarely touched area of the grounds. He could not help but feel a tingle of exhilaration as he bent under the bough of a tree and came to the old red brick wall which once seemed so unbreachable to him. Still bent low, his leather riding jacket stretched taut over his now broad shoulders, he waded through frozen leaves to the boarded up section of wall,
hidden by frosted ivy. As he began to get some leverage on it, a crow fled its perch, disturbing branches and squawking loudly. Alfred stopped his task to watch it disappear through the branches before lifting the board completely, slipping through with a little difficulty, grazing his shoulders along the rough bricks. Sucking in his stomach and angling his body sideways, he made it out the other side, wincing as the board fell back into place with a solid slap against the bricks - but there was no one nearby to hear the echo, he was sure.
He straightened up and inhaled deeply, the crisp air cool in his lungs. He had to give a smile, one which came with excitement and mischief. He'd done it! Not for the first time now, but each time it still felt like winning somehow, and he got an odd sense of achievement from it. But escaping alone wasn't what really excited him - it was where he was going that made his heart feel a little lighter in his chest.
But he didn't stop long and with light tread proceeded through the trees further away from the Spades Palace and its aging walls.
When he arrived at the designated spot minutes later, the other boy was already waiting; arms folded over his chest, leaning back on a tree with his eyes closed and a look of discontent on his face. A tousled mess of hair and a fan of closed eyelashes. And Alfred was pleased to see him all the same, experiencing the shiny, embarrassing feeling of being unable to contain a grin when laying eyes on someone he was happy to meet, each attempt to hold it in thwarted by the muscles in his face.
"You took your time," Arthur announced critically without opening his eyes.
"Sorry," Alfred said sheepishly, but the smile was undeterred and he pressed on, padding across the leaves to stroke Arthur's horse, tied to the tree beside him, "I got trapped talking to Georgie before I came out."
Alfred continued to run his palm across the horse's nose and then tickled it under its chin. The horse gave a snort and then a loud sneeze, shaking its dark mane as it did so. Alfred laughed and the sounds bounced off the trees and returned to them before they were obliterated into the clouds.
"I miss Clover," he added after a moment's contemplation as his laugh had subsided, his tone light but not without wistfulness.
"Me too," Arthur agreed with a sigh, sharing a glance with Alfred for the first time.
But a horse was the least that could change over the course of three long years - as Arthur so often told him. Of course they had been longest for Arthur - he always had work to do and more and more by the day, but Alfred too was working hard in his own way and felt the weight of the years on his shoulders in the foreshadowing of his near future. For it was not long now before he would be crowned.
"Who's a good horse?" Alfred returned his attentions to the fussing creature for a moment, retrieving an apple from his pocket and offering it up enthusiastically, "guess what's for breakfast boy? Guess?"
Both boys watched as the horse hastily devoured the apple, the crunching of the fruit the only sound reverberating out between them for a few seconds.
"...I got you breakfast too," Alfred addressed Arthur now, more seriously but with a smile. He put a hand to his pocket and eyed his friend unwarily, though he was ready for the approaching fuss.
"I told you not to do that anymore, Alfred!" Just as expected, Arthur was angry with him.
Arthur was too proud to take food from him, though Alfred knew he wanted it - it seemed too much like charity. there was a sense of guilt in it too - how he could eat while his village went hungry?- he felt like he was getting special treatment, he'd said. But Alfred would try and feed the whole farming region if he could! It was just easier to start with Arthur. That was where he wanted to start, anyway. It confused and frustrated him that Arthur couldn't just take the gift he so badly wanted to give.
"I just get worried! You look like you're getting thinner..." Alfred was downtrodden and genuinely concerned, shifting the leaves with the toe of his boot and feeling a little useless.
"We're all thin!" He wasn't quite raising his voice, but he could not keep out exasperation, "those of us left," be added with a mutter before giving Alfred a firm look, "but I can take care of myself, you know that."
"I guess so, but..." he felt his reasoning trail away with his words.
Alfred, looked at Arthur with a pained expression, feeling utterly inadequate for a moment that he couldn't live up to the expectations of the one he...- of the one he cared most about.
"So, how about this then," Arthur spoke up, perhaps regretting the annoyance he'd expressed in his last statement - perhaps knowing how Alfred was not really the cause of his problems. He'd spoken to Yao of the people in the farm towns - of poverty in the land - but no changes had been seen and he could do little more in his current position, "how about you catch us both breakfast."
Arthur thrust a bow against Alfred's chest, taking him by surprise for a moment. He held it there for a few moments and Alfred felt his scrutiny - but also noticed a slight smirk on his mouth and felt a great wave of relief that the tension was releasing.
"You really think I can catch something this time?" Alfred asked, feeling more confident in his ability just at Arthur's words - excited by the challenge, hopeful of the results and willed on to improve if it meant he could help Arthur - if it meant Arthur would let him help.
Arthur gave a nonchalant kind of shrug, releasing his hold on the bow - Arthur's old bow. It was worn and aging now and Alfred had better bows at the training ground in the palace of course, but someone would notice if one went missing and besides...he liked the old thing.
"Maybe," Arthur quirked a brow at him, sauntering back to his tree to retrieve his own pack, "you've been practising long enough."
"Not fair!" Alfred found himself replying indignantly as he caught the arrows Arthur had tossed his way one-handed.
"Remember what I told you," Arthur began coolly, pulling his own bow from his back and loading up his arrow in the same swift moment.
Alfred watched his profile, softened by the early light of the sun glowing on the edges of his hair and features. Alfred unwillingly heard himself intake breath and the forest seemed to fall silent around him and even the prince himself felt he was not quite present as the boy pulled back his bow and stretched the string taut. Not a bird dared sing and Alfred saw a poise in Arthur which came out on occasions such as this that he wished he could bottle up and let out on all the days he was holed up in the palace and felt his mind clouding over with a loss of direction. It was like seeing Arthur like this inspired him to pursue that same dignity. He felt a lump in his throat: It was at these times he thought Arthur was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"...sense the state of your target, keep your eye in line with the arrow...hold your breath."
Obediently, Alfred held his breath as if preparing himself and though he knew Arthur had no intention of shooting, he waited for the release and felt for a minute like the power behind the softness of the moment would tear the land they stood on in two.
"Okay?" Arthur loosened his grip and turned to Alfred questioningly, shading the sun. The air blew from the prince's mouth and the world remained startlingly intact.
"...Okay," Alfred agreed after some hesitation, a vagueness in his tone, "Yes, okay - I'll definitely catch something this time, I promise!"
"Actions speak louder than words, Alfred," Arthur gave him a look with that same smirk he always had and Alfred was compelled to prove him wrong, or right, or just to prove something.
"Right!" Alfred nodded with vigour.
"Shh," Arthur put a hand out across Alfred's stomach suddenly to stop his movement and peered into the next clearing. He pointed silently.
"I don't-" Alfred couldn't see whatever Arthur could and replied in his normal (loud) tone, seeing no reason for caution around.
"Shh!" Arthur turned to him in exasperation, this time clamping his hand over his mouth, "rabbits," he whispered.
Though reasonably distracted by the sudden close contact between them, Alfred searched the grove for any sign of such creatures.
"...I thee them!" When he eventually spoke again, Alfred's voice was no more than a muffle beneath Arthur's palm.
Arthur nodded without a word and, removing his grip on Alfred's mouth, put a finger to his own lips. He gestured to the bow and stepped aside.
Alfred felt a little nervous taking the shot - maybe it was because Arthur was better and could take them down easily on his own, or maybe because if he failed he'd be failing his best friend a meal he needed. He had half a mind to let Arthur take the shot to increase the chance of taking the prey home but he felt they were both just a little too proud to do that. He had to show him! He could do it, anyway - he definitely could.
He felt for an arrow clumsily, his breath coming out in clumps of condensation, never looking away from the prey in front of him. One was snuffling at the earth, digging for something. It looked around and its nose glistened in the soft light. Alfred saw it twitch. It's cute, he could not help but think; It's pretty, it's just a harmless creature. And Arthur told him early on that he couldn't go on thinking these things if he wanted to be a hunter - if he really wanted to hunt. And his father had hunted, and his brother too, and it was a kings sport they had both once said in different times and places. He hadn't liked the sound of that word 'sport' - but this wasn't sport anyway; Rabbit is food too, he had it countless times at the palace - he liked it - he had it in pie sometimes. But seeing it like this made it way harder and the thought of striking it with an arrow seemed cruel. To kill it with its family watching even more so.
Still he tried desperately to swallow this feeling and positioned the arrow with shaky hands, pulling back the string and kneeling against the cool, harsh surface of a rock nearby. He felt like hours passed as he aligned the shot, his vision blurring as he tried to focus on the nearest creature. He squinted to see it. Arthur always aimed for the head but Alfred thought he'd be lucky to get its body at all. The same guilty feeling rose up as it was in his sights, lolloping slowly into the shot, perfectly in line. But his hands couldn't stop shaking and there was the scary feeling he'd lose it and the even scarier thought that no matter what he did someone would suffer.
And then he felt Arthur's palm on his hand, lightly pressing, holding it still and he almost looked at him in surprise but held it in just as his head began to turn away from the line of sight he'd set for the rabbit. He took in a deep breath as Arthur knelt on the rock beside him, placing his other hand over Alfred's right hand to still the arrow. His fingers were cold and his grip as subtle as a sheet on the bed in summer. Alfred felt something wash over him and eyed the rabbit again, it was true it would have to die, but Arthur needed it more, right? For a moment he simply enjoyed being completely engulfed by Arthur's presence, feeling like he would happily remain like this for the rest of the day.
He released his grip, his breath tumbling from him as he did so, the arrow sailing and the sound of the string springing back into place ringing in his ears. Alfred heard a scrabbling in the leaves and watched the shape of his rabbit disappearing into the undergrowth in disbelief. He watched its brown tail flit through the brush. He turned to Arthur with his mouth agape, positively distraught. To his intense surprise the boy was grinning back at him, a hand over his mouth.
"You got it, Alfred!" Arthur exclaimed, standing up suddenly and provoking a further look of intense confusion from the prince, shattering his moment of horror.
"What do you mean? I just saw it run away- I missed, I -" Alfred stood up beside Arthur, a somewhat defeated tone to his words interlacing with his surprise at his friend's reaction.
"No, idiot!," Arthur struggled not to insult the younger boy now that he and Alfred saw each other more often and now that somewhere along the way he learnt how to forget he was the heir to the throne," that was the other one! You did it - look!"
So Alfred looked and finally saw the carcass in the clearing, bloodstained on the stiff leaves, arrow sticking out of its side at an angle, body upturned to the clouds.
"...I did it," Alfred mumbled, not taking his eyes of the dead rabbit, "Wait...was that the one I was aiming for?"
Arthur turned to him and gave a laugh of disbelief, actually looking...happy, excited, pleased.
"You need to get your eyes tested, Alfred," he gave him a light push on the shoulder, "that was a great shot."
Alfred let the compliment sink in with the uncensored smile on Arthur's face and how the light brought out shards of green in his eyes. He felt himself unable to hold down a grin of pride and took a moment just to appreciate the achievement. It felt sunnier than earlier, though the chill still bit through his clothes, and he could feel the warmth of a ray on the back of his neck. Staring in amazement at his friend he had a moment to realise how close they were, to think about embracing him, as he so badly wanted to do right then it almost hurt a little.
"Isn't it funny?" Alfred heard himself say through his smile and as Arthur gave a slight furrow of the brow, not quite able to downturn the corners of his mouth, he felt the cause of his question escape into the open air.
Lots of things were funny. Wasn't it funny that Alfred was seeing Arthur regularly again? That they were together at all? He hadn't known anything about delivery contracts at that time but as it so happened, Arthur's had been only due to last a year. It had shocked him completely when Arthur had come up one day and told him it would be the last. He was just a kid, he liked constancy as much as he was excited by change and he'd cried in his bedroom and not let Georgia in all evening, not said a word to her save for the cries of 'leave me alone!'. The next day she'd told the Jack that he had taken ill and had retired to his bed and perhaps that day playing with his old toy soldiers let him shed some light on the situation. Things at the palace just kept going on around him and, though Mattie had been sympathetic enough, no one else there could understand his sadness and perhaps a day to play with his old toy soldiers and eat eggs in bed was all he would receive as consolation for losing a friend. That feeling was almost as crushing as when he'd realised his mother and father were never ever coming back to him.
He had spent some really dull, restless months without anything but what was inside the palace since then. Well, there had been some changes, he supposed, but nothing to really anticipate as he had Arthur's visits. But now, of course, it had all changed. And Arthur had only to find a horse and visit him just that one time to 'say goodbye' - as he'd put it. But Alfred, far from swayed by Arthur's display, told him about the boarded up wall and the forest behind, about the escape route he'd found, about the possibility...and after intense persuasion, Arthur had agreed they could still talk there if he so badly wanted to and if Alfred could tell him when he was free from duty.
How funny it had been when they slipped back into friendship after all that time. And all the old excitement of meeting him was back when, true to his word, he brought the bow. An actual bow for Alfred to hunt with out in the wild itself! He expected wolves to pounce at him just from holding the thing. And to be honest it was funny just how happy Alfred was at this moment in time that was so far removed from the rest of his life. It was as if his time with Arthur acted as some kind of second life. Sometimes he got the overwhelming feeling that Arthur wasn't real - couldn't be - was merely some figment of Alfred's active imagination. An alter-ego? Was that what Mattie had called it? He'd spent time growing up with him - really he'd helped him grow up in some ways (not that he had needed it particularly or anything of course) and there was something disconcerting about visualising Arthur away from the palace outskirts. Because he wasn't a figment at all and he went home and ate dinner (most of the time) and had other friends apart from Alfred. He had a little brother, maybe even someone special - though he always denied this stubbornly if Alfred ever probed. A part of Alfred felt that Arthur was only for him, that this should be so. That he had been strategically placed to be a part of his life and that to have an entire life of his own was a completely surreal breach of this arrangement. What did he think about when he went home? Who did he talk to? What was his house like? Did he still think about Alfred or did he fade to the back of his mind? But soon he could actually go to see where Arthur lived and feel what he felt walking through his village and past everything Arthur saw. It wasn't long before he could take visits in the kingdom and wasn't it funny that he was that grown up already?
"...I'm taller than you," Alfred explained finally, cocking his head slightly, "haven't you noticed?"
Arthur stepped back with a look of strong distaste, crossing his arms defensively.
"You are not!" he declared adamantly, his cheeks colouring from more than the cold.
"Hey!" Alfred, with a good chunk of Arthur's defensive tone, cried in response, "what's so bad about that?"
" Because you're so much younger than me, Alfred!" Arthur spluttered with a red face, uncrossing his arms to emphasize the statement with upturned palms, " and it's just...it's embarrassing to be considered shorter than you when I'm a grown man now."
A fleeting feeling of pain struck at Alfred's heart.
"Arthur, I'm fifteen...my coronation is in 3 months," Alfred felt a surprising calm tone in his voice as he uttered this, despite the irritation and disappointment he felt at Arthur insinuating he was still some kind of child. He hated that - more so now than ever. "I'll be sixteen years old in 3 months."
But he hadn't needed to make a fuss, because Arthur stopped to look at him properly with the dusting of his flush still on his cheeks and his mouth slightly agape as if he was going to speak but the only real message he conveyed was through the eyes that scanned the prince's face.
"...So you will be," Arthur looked downwards at his shoes momentarily as he let his shoulders relax and his voice drop to its usual levels.
"And anyway," Alfred continued, struggling to retain some of his old confidence, " you're 18, not 80, Arthur, stop acting like a proud old man."
Arthur began to vehemently protest at the sight of Alfred's mischievous smile when a sound behind them, like a crack of a twig but more drawn out, saw the older boy's shoulders rise once more and he wasn't examining Alfred anymore but the spaces between the trees around them. Before Alfred could so much as open his mouth to ask Arthur what was wrong, the other boy was stepping away from him and glancing at his horse, reaching for the reigns.
"You're not leaving are you?" Alfred asked, following him to the horse's side, fresh urgency breaking through the cracks in his voice.
Arthur had always been wary when visiting Alfred and took the greatest care to remain invisible, to be aware of who was around, how close, how crucial it was to keep unnoticed, but these past few times he'd been more paranoid than usual. At the calling of a bird, the snap of a twig, what could be an echo of a voice carried on the breeze, Arthur's shackles were raised the way the kitchen mouser cat's were when it smelled a rat in the pantry. Alfred knew why; He'd been seen by the Ace that time. Only briefly, and on the road too - he hadn't even been with Alfred. But he'd asked his name and he'd told him not to come around those parts anymore, he'd said they could be dangerous. But Alfred hadn't heard of much danger near the palace and Arthur had said he hadn't liked the way he'd said it, like it was a threat or something. And Arthur said he wasn't sure of the Ace, said that he made him feel weird as if the Ace knew something about him he didn't. It was pretty
heavy stuff to think after only meeting someone once but Alfred didn't argue with Arthur about it much because he seemed so scared; he'd laughed when Arthur called the Ace creepy the first time and Arthur shot him a look as sharp as daggers.
"I have to get back anyway," Arthur replied hastily over his shoulder, unwinding the horse's rope from around the tree trunk.
"But I thought you didn't have to work today?" Alfred tried his best not to sound whiny but that desperate high note was edging into his voice, reverting momentarily to the prepubescent tone he'd finally grown out of.
"I said I didn't have to work this morning," Arthur turned to him and gave him an emphatic look, "besides, that just means more people will notice I'm gone."
Alfred opened his mouth to protest further but seeing no real argument to be made - none that would change Arthur's mind anyway - he crossed his arms and gave a sigh, feeling, as he did so, just like the eleven year old boy that pouted his lip every time Arthur said he had to leave him.
"When will you come back?" Alfred settled for asking.
Arthur paused, a hand on his horse's side, pack slung over his shoulder.
"Five days," he concluded at last, "same time."
"...Okay," Alfred agreed, but five days seemed like forever in his head, he just didn't want Arthur to find him childish.
There was a silence as the two seemed to consider each other. Goodbyes were also hesitant between them; there had been times in Alfred's slightly younger years when he might have hugged him, much to Arthur's protesting, but now the prospect made him want to flush in embarrassment.
Another crack somewhere a little ways off made Arthur move again, beginning to hitch himself onto his horse. As he got himself steady, Alfred noticed him screw up his face a little in pain.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, simultaneously spying the tear in the back of Arthur's trousers that the older boy was glancing down at and reaching for it instinctively, "what happened? Did something get you?"
"It's just a scratch," Arthur replied almost irritably, waving Alfred's hands away, " it's nothing."
Alfred frowned, still attempting to peer at the wound with little luck.
"You should..." Alfred, still searching for what he was imagining was a great chunk of leg missing from Arthur's calf - possibly removed by a wolf - spoke vaguely, " you should be careful."
Arthur looked down at Alfred for a few moments with a slight gaze of concern, like a dusting of perplexity over his features. At last he laughed, not loudly or anything like that, but his eyebrows knitted together for a second and it sort of tumbled out as if a complete accident.
"I'll be just fine you twit."
And before Alfred could be offended or amused or confused, he was being reminded of the way Arthur had laughed when he'd shot the rabbit down and how it made him feel like he was worth something truly great and with this memory he was leaving Arthur by the horse and turning on his heel to race through the hard leaves.
"Wait- Alfred?" Arthur leant up from where he was gripping his horse's reigns and called after the other boy, his alarm overtaking his caution as Alfred disappeared momentarily from sight.
He was back in seconds with his hands clasped to his chest, breathing a little more heavily than before .
"I didn't want you to go without this," he panted, meeting Arthur's eye and opening his hands to reveal the curled up rabbit, " breakfast."
And Arthur gave him the smile he longed for at last.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are loved very much if you can spare one! :)
See you soon~!
