Michael - Molossia

For Matthew and Alfred, the day started at six in the morning, though that's where the similarities stopped for the brothers.

The moment Matthew woke up, the first thing he did was push aside the cloth that covered his bedside drawer, tugged it open, and ran his thumb over Gilbert's Iron Cross just to check it was there. After letting himself indulge in the thought of the Joker for one more moment, he called for his breakfast whilst he showered and washed his hair. Today's breakfast was heavier than usual - buttermilk pancakes topped with fresh whipped cream, a tiny pitcher of maple syrup, sausages and coffee. Yao had allowed him to go to town today with Alfred; it would spare poor Carlos yet another trip to enquire about the town hall meeting the merchants of the Inner Circle had apparently organised in preparation for the Meeting.

Being a full fledged Ace, after all, it was the norm to take full responsibilities in managing not only the Inner Circle of Spades but also the fledgling economic sector, still limping back from the effects of the epidemic. Constantly dispatching his most trusted advisor for all his work was not a good look for citizens dearly wanting to see a more hands on Primary Suit. When breakfast was done and Matthew had calmed his stomach somewhat, he double checked his engagements for the day whilst his clothes were laid out and someone popped in with a yellow envelope. There were three things to do before he left the palace at noon with his brother and the members of the Chosen. As expected, the clothes were intricate for the purpose of a public engagement, gold accents woven to offset the blue, proclaiming to all he saw that he was royal, which was a much appreciated confidence boost.

The letters, however, were the same as usual. Usually, he got a letter from Diamonds, either from Francis, Matthew being his old protégé, or their Ace, Antonio, and the newest member to complete the Diamonds suit. He usually was the one to write diplomatically, and his business like penmanship was greatly appreciated over a certain someone's chicken scratch. Coincidentally, Gilbert was currently in residence in Diamonds to assist in his transition, though Matthew suspected that was not to change even with the debate over Joker shuffling that happened every Meeting. A few months ago, there had been talk of Clubs trying to make a case for Gilbert to supervise the training of their future Ace, but from what little he had time for viewing their Deciding it didn't seem as if they were receiving any form of tutoring for the position. The King of Clubs, Ivan, despite being surrounded by reliable old blood in the form of Elizabeta and her husband Roderich, was still a wild card in terms of politics, as his uncle's despicable policies had been ushered out when they had been sworn in. Everyone in Cards knew Alfred had wanted to have a Deciding for his queen ever since they'd been little, but Ivan had given no indication of his desire yet jumped into the process so soon after being crowned, so Matthew couldn't make heads or tails of it.

No matter, some secrets stayed secrets for a reason, and he knew that more than anyone. With that, Kuma stumbled in, paws ambling through the custom made hole in his door to greet his owner before curling up next to the cool mini fridge he kept in his study and falling back asleep. The snores made a little difficult for Matthew to respond to Antonio's cheerful letter about their proposed joint speech at the Meeting regarding precious metal trade, but he managed regardless. Once that was over and he made sure Kuma was comfortable, it left him with only one thing to do before he left for the day.

In Alfred's case, he slept a little past six thirty, lost in a dream about attempting to catch and eat flying hamburgers. Once he did wake up though (sans hamburgers) he politely asked for a heaping breakfast whilst trying to fix his hair with his hands, dog tags swinging back and forth on his bare chest as he did so. The spring was still way too hot to wear his comfy bear sleepwear, so just boxers did the trick, though he occasionally put on a shirt on if someone came in for the sake of appearances.

Once his attempts of correcting his appearance had failed, he ate, showered then insisted on changing into his own clothes – his maids (and Yao) had gotten used to the stubbornness since he was a child, and it seemed as if it had finally kicked in that Alfred would not let anyone dress him other than himself. With the same military precision, he brushed his teeth, gave himself a wink in the mirror before looking over the scribbled list of things to do in preparation for the date. He'd asked Michael to help him make sure the cameramen were in the foyer of the castle by twelve thirty, then went down with him to make sure the carriages to take the three of them and his brother, as well as the guards and cameramen were ready, then ran down to speak to Matthias and those that were coming down with him.

After joking around with them for around twenty minutes whilst making sure they were ready to go, he forced himself to go back early, then he spoke with Avie and Sakura and made sure they got the appropriate safety briefings in time for the trip. Jogging down to the kitchens, where Hero greeted him with a bark and a lot of enthusiastic licks to his cheek, he made sure the space was clear for the two dates he'd have during the weekend before rerouting with his Jack Russell to visit Yao, who'd requested a meeting before he left.

You're not tired! All in a day's work for a hero! he cheered himself on, before realising it hadn't even hit noon. Thinking like that's not gonna help. You have to keep cheering yourself on, or pretty much no one will!

"Both you and Matthew are busy today," he remarked warmly as soon as Alfred knocked on his door. "Come in – ah," he paused to pet Alfred's dog, "Good morning – and a good morning to you as well, Hero."

"How's things, Yao? Stuff okay with Meeting prep? Has anything happened near the Drift with the Joker rebels? Anything on the port from Lud?" Alfred babbled in excitement. Usually he wouldn't be anywhere near this productive in the morning, but today was special.

"Sit down, first of all," he chuckled, folding over a corner of whatever he was working on and putting it to the side. "Right. Ludwig did send a message yesterday when you went to sleep early, he says that in lieu of your date today, he'd like to speak with you tomorrow instead."

"Yeah, that works for me!"

"Other than that, nothing too exciting, which is good. Clubs and Diamonds have already discussed their plans for travel, seeing as the Meeting is only two weeks away. The Joker rebels on that island haven't seen much activity yet, but on that topic, I have something I'd like to propose to you." Alfred leaned forward, using his foot to pull on the leg of his ornate chair, careful to not overdo it. "I know it may seem excessive, but I would like to start preparing some safe rooms, as well as some drills and basic self defense techniques for the Chosen."

"I didn't think of that," he trailed off, waiting for the Jack's signature exhale of disapproval, but it didn't come to his surprise. "It's a great idea. Just in case the unthinkable happens. D'ya want me to organise that?"

"You have a lot on your plate as of right now, so no." Yao said. "Originally, I wanted to ask Katya for a favour and have her arrange the lessons, but I'm concerned that the Chosen won't be as comfortable with an actual Joker providing aid against those who falsely call themselves Jokers. With that in mind, I asked her to write her own speech about why she should remain with us, at least for the next year, for the new queen, so that frees up some space for me to organise it in time."

His tone shifted to an apologetic one as he leaned closer to his liege, patting his shoulder once. "That's also why I called you here this morning – do you think you can complete the Deciding before the year ends? I would never want to rush you, Alfred, but I would prefer we not make claims that both pressure you and make it so that we can't meet them."

"A...year? That's not a lot of time," he mumbled childishly, fiddling with his thumbs.

"I know you made a promise to your parents," Yao said, taking in his dismayed reaction. "And there is a lot riding on this Deciding alone. I have confidence, though, that you can do it."

"You seem to have more confidence in me than I do myself, and that kinda never happens..."

"In a way, you can say this 'kind of never happens', either." Getting up, he opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "Alfred, just..."

"Yao?"

Looking outside the window in a way that he couldn't see his expression, he spoke. "It may sound strange of me to say, but I must caution you. I would advise you against making your decision too hastily on an infatuation. The danger with our marks is that they appear based solely on your decision, and not privy to any other party."

"Infatuation...?" That hit a little closer to home than it should have. Flickers of the soft sensation of Arthur's hand in his swam in his head. Had something about it gotten back to Yao?

"I was notified, briefly, by a cameraman about an incident with you disappearing with a member of the Chosen behind closed doors without much notice." Yao said, confirming his suspicions and sending his heart plummeting in his stomach. "I know that you appreciate that he wants some privacy, but you must surely understand how these actions may be...interpreted. You must be careful."

Alfred hunted for any sort of anger or frustration in his tone, but only came up with a mild disappointment. "Yeah, I see it, Yao. Though, with Arti – Arthur, it wasn't even super romantic. Or at all. I'm not sure that he...uh, anyway, we haven't done anything like...that. If that's what you're saying."

"I know," Yao reiterated, still not turning towards him, "That you are clever enough to get what I am hinting at. However. With Sir Arthur being from the holding facilities and not being perfectly oriented with what may be considered scandalous within the Inner Circle, I believe that you should not seek to indulge him too far, and rather remind him that as uncomfortable as this is for all of us, it is also for the sake of the people. You know that, more than any of us here in this palace."

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to him, but it was a nasty one nonetheless. Though, as always, what the Jack said made sense – Arthur calling him just Alfred, the fussy nicknames, being so open to talking with him about taboo topics, accepting the little forms of affection he'd inadvertedly gotten used to wanting...

"Alfred." He must have turned around whilst he was so deep in thought, because Yao had crouched down to look his liege in his eyes, the deep brown only searching and not piercing. "I suspect I know the answer, but I must ask – do you intend on keeping Sir Arthur around?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Yes." Raising his chin, perhaps a little defiantly than either of them expected, he mounted a question. "Is that gonna be a problem in the long term?"

"As long as the two of you share a healthy relationship, it will never be a problem, as my only desire is the happiness of you and your twin. However." Yao's lips pressed into a thin line before he continued. "The advisorship may seek strife if Sir Arthur – or any Chosen, at all – behaves less than what is expected for a future monarch."

Alfred couldn't help but flinch.

"If he is unpopular with the public, that would also be a concern. So even though you technically do not have to answer to anyone when you choose the victor, it would do well to remember that this Deciding, even more so than those previously, decides the fate of this kingdom."

Perhaps sensing that the mood had been brought down once he had been faced with reality once more, the Jack ruffled his hair, noting with amusement the cowlick that never seemed to calm down. "Chin up, my boy," he said, smiling a little when Alfred weakly complained as always, wondering if he'd noticed his reaction. "If you truly do care for him, I would never attempt to hold you back. Use both your head and heart in tandem."

"Aw, is that one of your super old expressions you used to always tell me and Matt before bed?"

"They're old for a reason, because they're wise," Yao chastised. Though his mother, the previous Jack of Spades, had taught him to send them down only to relatives, the two princes had grown to become his family throughout the years of raising them. "Now. Best run along, you have an incredibly important date today. I know it sounds hypocritical of me," he said, pausing to wipe a small crumb off Alfred's cheek that his secretary hadn't dare point out, "But try to have fun and not overthink things."

The prince's outstretched arms and exaggerated bottom lip meant one thing, and he was happy to oblige, hugging him with a tight squeeze. "Let's speak as soon as you're home and well rested."

Being a Joker meant that Katya's office was only ever temporary.

Still, after her tenure with Spades had lasted almost four years now, the sight of her modestly decorated office was familiar enough to Matthew to the point where he was unconcerned about entering alone. Knocking once elicited a pleasant, slightly accented 'come in!', accompanied by a smile that matched the gentleness of her voice.

Having been pushed to inherit the position of Joker from her uncle, it was a much needed surprise to the rest of Cards when Joker Katya eagerly took on the position of mediator much more than expected. When he passed away, she gained a reputation quickly for advising her newly crowned brother to open Clubs back up, and was still widely credited for rescuing what seemed like a hopeless foreign relations situation from itself.

That, of course, couldn't be gauged simply from her appearance. Wearing traditional Joker colours in the shape of a little black dress coupled with a warm looking jacket that did its best to squirrel away her voluptuous form, coupled with two neat pins that secured away her bangs, she smiled lightly and waved Matthew to her desk.

"Hello, Matthew," she said kindly, gesturing a plush armchair next to hers in a way that made the Ace's shoulders relax. "Thank you for coming to see me today, I know that you are busy."

"You are as well, Katya," he replied. "How are you today?" Once he sat down, he asked the attendant that had come in with Kuma to fetch them some quick refreshments. They made pleasantries about the Meeting and exchanged a few jokes whilst he was taking their order, which all changed the moment the door closed and his footsteps receded into silence.

That coincided with Matthew's anticipation reaching its limit. "Katya, I must ask if you've..." he whispered behind his gloved hand, leather shoes straining as he leaned forward on his tiptoes.

In response, Katya pushed back her dark sleeve, blue jewels catching the light of her office within the motion, and pulled out a letter attached with the black seal of a Joker's missive.

That night, Arthur had dreamed of him for the first time.

The first recollection of it started with him wandering through a series of tall hedges, until he came to a simultaneous stop and a realisation – one, that he was stuck in the Spades palace's garden, and two, that snow was falling in heavy sheets, blanketing everything with its lack of noise.

Snow in April? Arthur had never been anywhere that had snow this late in the spring; when he still lived in Hearts, snow came in the late months of January and stayed only until February, and Spades, where he was now, got snow from December to March. Perhaps the northernmost kingdom Clubs – where it was rumoured that the highest peaks had snow all year round – would still have snowfall at this time of year, but Arthur hadn't experienced it.

That was the first hint that what he was experiencing wasn't completely real or a memory. The cold, however, very much was, though it was offset by a strange pink tinge lamp shading over his vision. Whilst he still was trying to navigate the now menacing gardens that had entranced him so, the cold kept on seeping into his body, threatening in how it consumed him. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing his flimsy pajamas, or he would have frozen to death right there. Then again, he wasn't unfamiliar with it, being exposed to it more than he'd have liked in his childhood. He wasn't eager to experience it again anytime soon.

Sadly, whoever bothered to clothe him in wherever he was hadn't even thought to provide him with anything more than pants, a sweater and a pair of shoes. It wasn't helping that he couldn't seem to find his way any closer to the palace or something that he could make out.

Poof. Suddenly, as soon as the thought sat sarcastically in his head, the warmth of a jacket enveloped his shoulders; the second clue that what Arthur was experiencing wasn't rooted in reality. Instinctively, his hands flew up to his shoulders defensively, feeling the soft fur that gathered at the top. Somehow it felt familiar – he'd never owned something that had fur, as that would be far too expensive, so how could it be something he recognised?

"Hey, princess, I didn't know you'd be out here," an all too familiar voice wafted over his senses, a gentle, unyielding assault in itself. Arms snaked forward, pulling him flush against a muscular chest, sending warmth flooding down from the top of his head down to his shoes. "Honestly, making me worry about you so much..."

His first instinct, of course, was to push away, yet his body didn't seem to follow his mind. "Alfred, what-"

"I said, making me worry about you so much!" his face was so close, his warm breath billowing in his face, seemingly unabashed of their contact. "You're lucky you're so cute, or I wouldn't have come looking for almost two hours for ya! Uh, I mean, that's not really true, I guess, cause it's the hero's job to go looking for his princess, after all!"

"Pardon? I think you're looking for the wrong person, if you're looking for a – your princess," Arthur asked, his thick eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Was the process over already? Bloody hell, the dolt had somehow done it, despite himself.

Though, if the Deciding was complete...when had they gotten so close? Arthur knew that the last few members of the Chosen were usually invited to stay on to take places in the court or advisory positions to the newly elected royal, having been educated in the workings of court and administrative life, and there was nothing irrational in that. But for him to be holding him so close...he felt that Alfred would never do it to whomever he'd choose. So what did that mean? Was that the third thing that cemented his suspicion that none of this was real?

How in the name of the Fates could Alfred, someone who he'd pushed away and tried even harder to ignore his feelings for against his better hopes, someone he thought he couldn't deserve in a thousand years, someone Arthur knew he couldn't confess to, be so affectionate with him? Was the nickname a deeper meaning to what he'd initially believed?

"I believe I've made my feelings towards you very clear..."

Was that what he meant? Arthur thought, remembering their encounter yesterday. Or whatever day their date in the library was compared to whenever this was. He was certain that this interaction with him wasn't real – but then, that would mean he was willingly dreaming of a future where he was with him. That, in itself, was again, incredibly dangerous. If unchecked, it would lead to...

"Huh? You said you liked that nickname last time you used it, though," Alfred sang, wearing his familiar grin that was too smug for his own good, and snapping Arthur out of his frantic thoughts. "And the last time, and the last time, aaaand the last time, a-"

"Why are you even doing all these things for me?" Arthur said, questioning half to himself and half to Alfred, before the prince could go any further with his teasing. His face was already deep red, something he fiercely told himself that was due to the cold and not whatever was lurking in his heart. "What can I even give you in return?"

If I can somehow find out answers, I might as well, he thought to himself. The cruelty of what he was now certain was a dream stung, yes, but it wouldn't feel the same when it happened in real life.

Then again, with the words he'd said in their earlier encounter in the library, he couldn't help but feel as he could slowly decode the answer to that himself. Yet it did nothing to alleviate his now growing fears.

He'd never wanted, never imagined himself to be anywhere close to the position of queen; let alone being with someone like Alfred. Someone who, above everything, fought past the grief and hardship of his life to be someone who managed to have the strength to honour tradition and fulfil his duties. Not to mention being adored by the people of Cards, being able to get along with his fellow royals to the point of obvious fondness, and not having to think of loneliness or rejection.

Even if this were a dream, his conflicting feelings would be the thing that clung to him after he woke up. Of everyone, why would the crown prince of Spades like him? Why someone that came from nothing, and was only propelled to a point where he wouldn't be a national laughingstock now he'd ended up in this competition? Why someone who, even if he had started to see the prince in a different light, could barely bring himself to confess his feelings? Clamming up behind his walls and not allowing himself to get close to anyone had always been his way. How had six weeks in the palace changed him so radically?

It would be useless to confess when he'd be sent home after his birthday, anyway, he thought bitterly. Politically, there was nothing to gain, and romantically, well. Alfred had all those other boys and girls to choose from. As determined as he was to stay out of the spotlight, it did not bode well for his far fetched future career in the inner workings of a royal court.

"Arthur..." His name was said so clearly; so much so that it broke through the pink tinge that had invaded the landscape of his dream, giving way to a sunset that washed itself gently over the sky, as gentle as his hand had been in front of his mother's portrait. It felt more like a memory than a dream; it made him ache to hear the tenderness in his voice that he knew should be directed to someone more deserving than himself, yet trying to push away his desire. Desperately willing the thick curtains of his bed to come back into peripheral view, he wanted the morning sun to flood back in and interrupt what foolishness his brain had decided to taunt him with, to cut his self dashed hopes away like an open wound.

He didn't want this. He couldn't want this.

Yet the gardens seemed to shrink, pulling away bushes and trees and blue flowers until Arthur could scarcely feel anything but the other boy's pounding heartbeat against his shoulder blades. Gently being propelled forward, Arthur turned around to look at his face for the first time. A significant amount of time had seemingly passed; his face was, in his own grudging words, as handsome as ever if not more, though something had clearly taken a toll on him and his features had matured. Whether Alfred himself had, still remained to be seen.

"Hey...don't you remember that time you thought I was gonna send you home? I couldn't scare you like that again, never," he said passionately, the sunset seeming to follow suit with a flare of red streaking across it, cutting an unnaturally harsh line. "Not to the person that knows a hundred percent how much I hold in my heart for him. Is that why you were trying to avoid me?"

"No, I-" Arthur stopped midway, trying to force his muddled mind to think, which was near impossible seeing that he was still processing that he was in a dream and Alfred still hadn't let go. "Alfred, I...why haven't you let go of someone as troublesome as me yet?"

Right, think about this again, you bugger. It's currently snowing, which according to Spadian climate would put us around wintertime. If so, at least seven to eight months have passed...what has happened to us in the space of that time? He did say that he wanted the process to be over swiftly, and I understand that he needs to become king soon enough to ensure the stability of the Primary Suit, which would mean that only a handful would be left.

Which, he realised at the same time as when Alfred buried his face in his shoulder and held him even closer, means that he wouldn't keep me here if I hadn't been honest about how I felt.

He prepared to push him off – despite anything, it was improper to be so close, and the intensity of his feelings still made him shudder. Those defensive hands stopped, though, once he started speaking. "Did you change your mind?" he murmured, his voice low and muffled. It was impossible to miss the vulnerability in his voice, reminding Arthur that he was that despite his confidence and bravado, he was still only a boy king. "It's okay if you did. I'll let you go if you ask me to."

The same fear that had clogged his throat only a few days ago threatened to overwhelm him once more. Was the process not over in the dream after all? "No! No, I just..." he didn't even know where to put his hands after they'd stopped, "You should stop making so many concessions for me, Alfred, when I can't make any concessions for you."

"I don't want to force you," he continued to say, barely listening to Arthur's words, mirroring his behaviour in a way that terrified him. Is this how he feels when I can't push myself to be honest, with all the time he's giving me? "If you wanna go, then you're free to. It's okay if you don't like me back-"

"I do," Arthur blurted. In an instant, there seemed as if there was a loud crash in the distance, causing him to whip around, hands instinctively reaching for Alfred's back that was warm and pliable to the touch.

But there was no signs of rubble or destruction, just the tauntingly calm sunset and the blue roses of the Spadian gardens, along with the softening of the walls he'd put up around himself. Just him and Alfred, but only one was being honest to one another. Even if it was in a dream, he...

Once the fear had died down, Arthur closed his eyes, scrunched his toes in his shoes and took a deep, haggard breath before he continued speaking. "I do, Alfred. I l-like you. Not only in a way that is beyond what a friend should, but also in a way that gives me a place in the Deciding. And therefore, in your own heart, but it frightens me. To like someone as untouchable as you, someone that will give anything for his country and those he loves. I-I know this isn't real," that was half to Alfred's dream self, but also half to himself, "But my thoughts are."

Alfred, for his part, fell silent, another hint that Arthur was only dreaming. For that reason, he allowed himself to cling onto his warmth, the hallmarks of his first attraction, the small press of his glasses on his neck and the heat emanating from his body, something he'd never expected to want to feel. The fur bunched on the top, the leathery feel, the expensive lining could only mean it was his bomber jacket, making everything worse. It made him want to be close, which was something he loathed yet yearned for at the same time.

He wanted to be alone. He enjoyed working alone, living alone, being alone. It was how things had always been.

Yet...

In that lonely space where only his true feelings existed, Arthur allowed himself to admit that he had feelings for him for the first time.

"...so yeah! I hope that's okay with everyone, and I get to see you guys at dinner tonight."

Prince Alfred may just have made the greatest speech of his life, and Arthur had completely missed it. Obviously, the lunch itself was delicious and had fully occupied his mind and mouth whilst he was eating it, but it had been a smokescreen of some sorts. When the plates were cleared and there was nothing except his, er, friends, and then only Alfred himself with the Ace and Jack, the details of his dream stormed to the forefront of his thoughts and demanded to be explored again in painful vividness.

Of course, it wasn't as if he could blurt it out loud, or any sort of social setting where they wouldn't be alone. They'd been together on an official date only yesterday, so that itself would be a long time coming.

At the same time, Arthur was unsure of how else to deal with the discomfort in his chest that came with coming to such a foreign realisation without sharing it with Alfred directly. There was no other form of contact that wouldn't be embarrassing or ridiculous, so he settled for simply looking at him during said speech. Unfortunately for him, literally everyone else in the room was doing the same, so in an ironic twist he got what he'd wanted for so long and managed to blend in perfectly.

Or so he thought.

Speaking quickly to Alfonso as everyone except Avie and Sakura filed out for their individual activities, Arthur turned around to leave the dining room until he realised, out of the corner of his eye, that Alfred was glancing at him.

Gingerly, he reciprocated the look, only intending to do so for a second. Yet the ache in his chest grew stronger, the blue eyes that had never really stood out on the television suddenly tugged him nearer, filling him with a longing to be close. The moment when green met blue, the room seemed to disappear in a single motion, leaving both of them breathless.

They managed to maintain their eye contact for one more moment before he was buffeted by the crowd of Chosen, away from him, the embellished doors closing, the bright view, once illuminated quietly by the chandeliers, was then shut abruptly. Alfred was left with Arthur's nickname in his throat whilst he started the next set of duties of his day, and Arthur's lips were still parted in the shape of his name as his day, and his feelings, continued.