i'm in europe this week! which means no review replies, that's all. i've prewrit these next few so schedule will still be the regular one. no need to worry :)
prague is so pretty (and cold)
as always, i do not own the selection nor hetalia. these belong to kiera cass and himaruya hidekaz respectively.
Taking a deep breath to try to keep himself warm, Arthur wrapped his hands around his shoulders and began to rub briskly on the surface of his jacket. It wasn't so cold that he had to watch his breath billow out underneath him, and he could faintly hear the crackle of a small fire in the large hearth underneath the portrait of the late King and Queen of Spades. The servants had not tended it to seeing as it was late, and most of them were probably watching Alfred and his Elite dance around. Even though the snow hadn't started to fall yet, which meant this was not the coldest part of December; he had already begun to see the effects of the cold on the castle. He had seen Butterscotch and another few horses, including the one he rode, being escorted inside.
But he was just distracting himself. There was no denying that, even to himself that his mind was on anything but the horses or the cold. It still rested with the people in that warm ballroom downstairs, specifically with one person.
He placed down his book onto his lap, leaning out of his small corner, making sure no one was there before he pressed his mouth against his palm and let out the choked sound that had been in his throat ever since he had left.
"Not again," Arthur whispered, twisting his pearl over again in his index finger and thumb. His chest tightened, and as the feeling intensified he pulled up his jacket up to his chin. "Not again!"
He braced, waiting for the hot flash of magic, but it just didn't come. Faintly, he remembered his conversation with Yao, about how it would manifest in intense romantic conditions. This was hardly romantic.
This was just sadness.
He hoisted his knees up to his chest and tried to blink away his tears, but they wouldn't stop sliding down his cheeks. "Stop!" he hissed furiously to himself, but it came out more like a sob than a snarl. "Stop, damn it, you can't act like this over a mere boy, you can't-"
He isn't a mere boy, is he? He means a lot more to you than just that. It's not you going soft.
"What?" Arthur blurted, pulling his hands away from his face in shock. A voice, resonating in his head? What was this? "Who are you?"
Oh, you don't know me yet, the voice continued. It sounded far away, but it sounded like a pebble splashing across a pond. If things continue to go the way they are now, you will never know me.
"I must be hearing things," he said tightly to himself, but let his legs rest on the carpet again. "Things the way they are now…?"
Your relationship with Prince Alfred, the voice said. Arthur's heart clenched at the mention of his name. You know what I am talking about.
"I'm…I'm sorry," Arthur said hesitantly. He couldn't believe he was actually talking with a voice inside his head. "But I understand. Are you saying that it is a bad relationship for both of us?"
No, that is not what I am saying, boy. We Fates all come to visit you somehow.
"Fates? You're a Fate?" he blurted in reply, jumping up on shaky legs, his mouth open with disbelief. His book fell to the floor, but he barely paid it any attention as he felt some sort of mist at the corner of his vision. He was starting to feel a little hazy, from what he wasn't sure, but probably with talking to this strange entity.
Obviously, boy, the voice said, sounding a little fed up and annoyed. You're a little more than foolish. How else are you supposed to convince him you truly care for him?
Naturally, Arthur had no answer to that. With another apprehensive look around him to make sure no one thought him mad while he was visibly talking to himself, he sat back in his chair. After a few minutes of waiting, there was nothing but silence.
His shoulders started shaking, not from the cold, but from the tears dripping down his nose. Rubbing the velvet of his coat against his eyes, he tried to push down the throbbing feeling. It burned, seared like a magical fire, and Arthur could do nothing to stop the flames. Alfred no doubt hated him, because of that fight; he hadn't given everything that he could.
How am I going to survive when I go back? Arthur wondered desperately. All right, he would be all right, with all his payments to his family for their service. But leaving with his heart in the other boy's hands-
-wait. His payments? Arthur suddenly remembered that at the beginning of their outburst that Alfred had asked him about why he wanted to go home, and had mentioned his family. Maybe he thought he was here just for his payout?
But that's not true, he thought as he slowly pushed out into the cold hallway. He could still hear the chattering and noise downstairs in the ballroom, and he felt a little pang of guilt as he walked past the steps leading down. Alfonso would be upset. I'm here for one thing, and one thing only. All right, maybe two, counting Matthew and Gilbert. But still, if I didn't care for him I wouldn't be here.
"Anna?" he asked as he came into the room. He hoped that she wouldn't notice the runny nose or slightly red eyes, but she simply came and greeted him.
"Sir Arthur, are you cold?" she asked as he went over to his desk. "You seem a little chilly. I thought you were down with the Elite?"
"Oh, um…something came up," he said awkwardly. He was relieved when she simply shot him a knowing look and went on with the task. "Do you have any paper on hand?"
"Desk, front drawer," she recited drily. "I'll fix you a bath, if you would like?"
"Oh, that would be lovely," he replied, leaning to the left and fishing out the paper. He picked up a pen and started to write, but it seemed heavier than normal, probably because of the weight of the message he was preparing to send to his family.
"Um, Anna, can I have those petals you put in my bath the other day?" he called as he heard her move into the bathroom.
"Will do. "
Where is he?
"Alfonso, can you check up on him? He hasn't come back."
"Hey, no problem, Al," Alfonso smiled, but he sounded a little defeated. "I guess I could tell from his expression that he wasn't thinking of coming back."
Was that my fault? "Well, if ya put it that way I guess it's okay. Sorry you didn't get to talk to Sakura tonight, I wanted to see her off." Alfred drew a smile from his face. "It's getting late."
"You don't say," Alfonso laughed, unlacing his hand with Alfred's as they approached his bedroom door. "Well past twelve, Al. See you in the morning!"
Alfred kissed his hand lightly, watching as he made his way into his bedroom. 'Night, Alfonso."
"'Night, Alfred."
After he closed the door, the prince took a deep breath, and then began to walk towards Arthur's room. It was near the end of the corridor, so it was relatively secluded. No one had to witness his feelings. The emotions he felt around the other boy were meant to only be between them the whole time. Arthur had kept most of their relationship secret to the others, unlike the other Elite that liked to gossip. Alfred felt a little uncomfortable that he was treated as an object to be compared to.
But as he got closer, the blood started rushing in his ears. What if Arthur publicly rejected him? What if they had another fight? Surely his maid was there. What if they hurt her by mistake if something happened?
The thudding of his smartly pressed shoes grew louder in his perception. Before long, he had stopped completely, his heart pounding and his chest squeezing as he stood in front of Arthur's door.
I can't do this, he realized, panicking as he took thudding steps backwards. If I screw this up, if I let my emotions get the better of me, I'll drive him away for good. He'll run, for real this time.
Nights of suppressing tears and keeping up facades got to him, and he slipped beneath the wall in between Arthur's room and a winding staircase. He sat with his head in his hands, slightly soothed by the cool sensation of the wall.
Just then, the door flicked open, and there he was, clad in only his bathrobe, his green eyes almost luminous in the darkness of the hallway. Alfred couldn't help but stare, his heart only thudding faster. Even after everything, he couldn't take his gaze or his thoughts off Arthur.
"Hello?" he said softly, in a voice Alfred's heart ached for. "Um, is there anyone there?" After a few moments, he shifted his bare feet. "Anna? A – Alfred? Is…is that you?"
Alfred clenched his fists and fought every cell in his body to not jump up and apologize over and over again. I want to say it. Please, let me. I mean it, I swear.
"I could have sworn…" he said, his tone upset. He shuffled on the spot, and Alfred couldn't help but feel the want to pull him close. Be his hero for once. All that anger, that confusion in the heat of their argument, had faded away into dust. It left a pining, a hollow feeling in his chest that rendered him helpless.
The door closed again, and he couldn't help but release a breath of relief.
Why am I such a coward? he cursed himself inwardly. Lately he'd been so much more fragile, knowing that a misplaced word and an argument like this from basically anyone still left in the competition could send him into tears. He knew that crying was still considered not suitable for someone of his status, but all these strong feelings had burst out of his control. Bottling them up for so long had taken a toll on him. At least, he'd made sure that Matthew wasn't next door before petting Hero's velvety ears and burying his face into his pillow.
He knew he couldn't let Arthur go. He definitely regretted their fight. But what could he do? He wasn't sure about things – did Arthur just want to keep on staying just for the support for his family? Had he fallen out of love with Alfred because of that last argument? How did he hurt his hand?
He roughly brushed off the few droplets that had made their way to the creases of his eyes, and then Alfred made sure that the light underneath Arthur's doorway was securely flicked shut before slowly getting up and making his way to his room.
As he got there, his maid – looking visibly tired as she rubbed her eyes and sleepily greeted him – fixed him a long bath. He gently made sure that she went to her quarters after getting out, and petted his dog's sleeping shape before getting into the covers and closing his eyes, trying to ignore the lump in his throat.
He would try to fix this as soon as they were both ready.
"Um, Anna, before you go, can you come back a little later and help me give this to the post?" Arthur asked, turning around in his chair as his maid got ready to take out the basket of laundry.
Ever since that early morning encounter, Arthur had woken up late and missed breakfast. Anna, as reliable as ever, had come up with breakfast and a good tea set to make up for the food. He had gotten back to work on his letter as a distraction and excuse from the Drawing Room. He had heard some commotion outside in the hallway, probably Sakura getting Emma to help her pack for her departure tomorrow morning, but for now he was content just watching the first flakes of snow fall down outside his window.
Dear Allistor and Erin,
I am writing to deliver you some news. I'm sure Cormac and Christian can and should be told, but I hope that it's not so bothersome that we have to worry Dylan. How's his school doing? Please make sure that he gets his English grade up, even though he insists he wants to be a stable hand when he grows up.
Anyway, it's about the funding I get about being part of the Elite. Alfred and I have had…well, nothing major, but we had a disagreement. And now as I write this, another person is being eliminated, and I'm sure with this brilliant post service that you'll be watching her go home tonight as you read this. With this comes a lot of pressure for the rest of us to stay into the competition. I'm guessing you know how much I want – need – this. I won't let myself get caught up in fear and hesitation any longer. I'm very ashamed of my actions from before…
…so as you always like to say, Cormac, drastic times calls for drastic measures. Although you always say that as an excuse to pull out beer pong when work gets you a little narked, I suppose I did learn from you somehow. I've decided to ask him to stop my compensation. In our – I guess I could call it a discussion - he said something about the fear of me wanting to do the best in this competition just for my family. As much as I care for you all, this isn't true. And if I have to go to this level to prove it to him, I'll do it.
The palace here's a lot less loud now it's just the six of us, but the atmosphere hasn't gotten any friendlier. In fact, it's gotten even more cutthroat now everyone realizes exactly why they're here. Lots of people are here just because they care for him, but some others have more intentions than just that. I'll be lying if I say I'm not intimidated, but I will fight.
But I'm sorry. For this disappointment, and the short notice. I wish I could try to regain his trust somehow without doing something as extreme as this, but I want to show him that he's safe when it comes to me. I want him to know that I'm only here for him.
Write back soon.
Best regards, Arthur
PS. Allistor, please help staunch Erin's nosebleed. She complained how she thoroughly spoilt my last piece of post.
sorry no replies! i'll be sure to do them when i'm back from europe :)
reviews, favourites and follows are what will keep me writing, so please go ahead and leave them!