Arthur watched Alfred sleep, listened to the soothing sounds of the younger man's snoring. The low rumbling helped to quiet the soldier's frayed nerves. Arthur's scapegoat was dead. Then again, his biggest oppose was dead. But the seeds of doubt Tony had sewn were very much alive, and Arthur had no one to pin the suspicion on.

Alfred was here, though. Alfred would be easily manipulated into defending him. It'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

Arthur turned at the sound of the tent flap moving. Matthew strode in and sat down beside the soldier.

"How's he doing?" the medic asked.

"You tell me. You're the one who knows about medicine."

"I meant emotionally. He knows about Tony, right?"

"He knows. He's...upset. But he'll be alright." Arthur paused, inspecting the other man. He looked haggard, worn, exhausted as if he had lived a hundred years without sleeping. "What about you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Or, at least, I will be soon."

"How do you heal things so quickly? If you don't mind my asking."

Matthew smiled slightly. Light, he looks like he aged fifty years, Arthur thought. "Trade secret," the medic said with a wink. "Even Alfred doesn't know."

"Understood. I have to say, though, it's almost miraculous, what you can do. It's a gift."

"It's an art," Matthew corrected, "but thank you."

"Alfred really will be okay, right?" Arthur asked. HIs voice shook slightly, and for once, it wasn't acting.

"He'll be fine. Just don't let him move too much. Sleep and food is good." Matthew smiled slightly. "You don't have to worry. I'll keep him safe for you."

"For both of us. And don't forget to take care of yourself."

"I'll be fine, and so will Alfred. I promise." Matthew slipped silently out of the tent.

There is only one way to describe that man. Quiet, comforting, and wise beyond his years.

Arthur sighed and watched shadows cast by lantern light play on Alfred's face, a face of chiseled marble stone. Thin, arching brows, a gentle jawline, and soft lips made Alfred look like a young boy, and that was all he really was. An idealistic boy trapped in a cynic's war. Arthur desperately wanted to know how he had been pushed into the role he was in. You're too innocent for this. You're not the monster everybody seems to think you are.

Tentatively, careful not to wake him, Arthur's hand brushed Alfred's bangs away from his eyelids. That same hand then ran along Alfred's cheek, caressing him, gentling him. In the back of his mind, Arthur wondered if Alfred still had his nightmares. He certainly wasn't having any now. His face was serene.

Arthur suddenly became aware that Alfred's eyes were open and trained on him. Arthur's hand was still on the other's face. Arthur stumbled backwards, feeling his own face grow hot. "S-sorry," he mumbled.

"Hey, it's okay," Alfred said sleepily. "It was nice."

Arthur curled up in his chair, pointedly looking at his knees. Alfred jabbed his hand into the other man's line of view. "Don't ignore me," he complained, taking Arthur's hand.

"What are you doing?" Arthur looked up.

"Getting your attention." He didn't let go. Instead, Alfred looked carefully at Arthur's face. "You're real pretty, Art."

Arthur's face felt like fire. "Very descriptive."

"I'm serious! I'm not really good with words, but..." It was Alfred's turn to flush. His face turned a dark red. "You're...you're beautiful. I really mean that."

Alfred carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position and beckoned for Arthur to come closer. The soldier sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Alfred. "What is it? Do you need more pills?"

Alfred leaned in closer, and Arthur leaned in himself, until their foreheads rested against each other. Their eyes stared deep into abysses of sapphire and emerald, each man losing himself in the other's iridescent color. "I, uh, I kind of wanted to kiss you? If that's okay?"

Arthur smiled in agreement. He closed his eyes as their foreheads separated and their lips moved closer until -

Someone cleared their throat, and they jumped apart before their lips could meet. Standing in the doorway of the tent was Pat. "I've got something rather important to say, if you don't mind," the tall man said. "To Alfred. Privately."

"Understood, sir!" Arthur shot out of the tent, sprinting, and he didn't stop running until he reached his own canvas shelter. After the initial panic left, he wondered what Pat had to say that was so important as to deny Alfred some joy. I hope Alfred will finally get that message from Matthew, Arthur thought. If whatever Pat's saying is anything less important, I might strangle him in his sleep.

"Can't you have a little tact, Pat?" Alfred complained. "I was obviously in the middle of something."

"Sorry. But this is really important."

Alfred raised a condescending eyebrow. "It better be."

Pat cleared his throat, looking a bit intimidated. "I wanted to give you the message Matthew brought."

Alfred nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's important."

Pat passed the note to him. The blond unrolled it, squinting in the dim light.

Nighteagle,

I give you your brother as a measure of good faith. In return, I ask that you come down to the main road leading into Richmond for a peace talk. You may bring a single companion. I will bring one, as well. I expect you within three days. If, after three days, you have not come, I will lead the army into your camp and crush every man, woman, and child's bones into dust before your eyes.

Also, I felt I ought to warn you, seeing as your brother told me how naive you are. I have a spy in your midst. It is not who you expect.

- Captain Gilbert Beilschmidt, Captain of Teal Company

"Spies and peace talks... Obviously, I have to go."

"The question is, with who?"

Alfred rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think... Steve. He's reliable, and a good swordsman. Levelheaded, too. If anything goes wrong, I can count on him to back me up."

"Steve is still upset over Tony's death," Pat pointed out. "He might act irrationally."

"They were close... You're right."

"What about Lyra?" Pat suggested. Alfred considered it for a moment. Lyra was a crack shot with a bow and had a very calm nature. She was also skilled at fighting on horseback. "I guess Lyra will be fine," Alfred conceded. "You should tell her that we're leaving tomorrow."

Pat nodded. "Should I tell her why?"

"Yeah. Be sure to emphasise that she can't tell anyone else about it, though."

"Got it. Sorry about interrupting you earlier."

"It's fine. What you had to say was important."

"Good luck tomorrow." Pat left the tent, leaving Alfred to himself.

He had been so, so close to kissing Arthur. So close. But more important events were afoot. An invasion was imminent and there was a spy amongst them. There wasn't time to worry about foolish emotions. But he had been able to express his feelings for the first time without being called volatile, and he bitterly regretted returning to his previous state. For the revolution's sake, though, he had to be made of stone.

AN: Sorry about this being updated so late in the day! I was busy with an overload of homework. Finals are coming up, y'know?

So, someone finally caught something that I snuck into this fic. Congrats! Can't really name you, because you were a guest... There are two more easter eggs in here, though, so maybe you can catch them!

As far as updating goes, I know for sure that I can't update on Saturday. I also most likely won't be able to update on Friday or Sunday. I'm going to be away for those days, rowing my little heart out.

Alright! All done here! See you guys later!