this thing is 4k words jesus

yeah so storytime before the story, kids. slept at nine yesterday, woke up at 5am then wrote 1.5k. came back and spleurghed (it's a word now OK) out 3k...

as always, i do not own the selection nor hetalia. these belong to kiera cass and himaruya hidekaz respectively.

"Just wait for me, Arthur. Just a little longer. I get it if you think it's too long, but…just until after everything's cooled down. I want you to have everything after that."

Nothing could disturb Arthur's happiness for the next few days after Christmas night. He had remembered Alfred's tender, passionate words as if he had just said them to him, but unfortunately the prince and Matthew had been very busy in the days afterwards due to something with Hearts. The story that Jack Yao had been telling them in the past few days was that in lieu of the Hearts coronation – who, had frustratingly enough, still not released the winner of their Deciding – Gilbert had wanted to come over to the kingdom as his younger brother, the King of Hearts, had welcomed him previously. However, with the amplifier issue from Diamonds that had happened during the Trials, they had struck a deal for both Jokers, Katya and Gilbert, to come investigate what had happened and how the rebels had stolen from the pile. Hence, apparently, he would be staying in Spades until the day of the coronation on January the second.

Arthur couldn't help but be relieved that Matthew was away as he knew his stupid conscience couldn't help but shoot him an excited gaze. After all, he was spending so much time with his brother, and he felt that it was way overdue the last time Gilbert and Matthew had spent any sort of time together. He had wanted to send an excited message to the Ace, but quickly realized that he had already knew.

Alfred's making my mind all frazzled, he cursed himself internally, hating the way he noticed his behaviour had changed ever since that night. I can't even think straight anymore…

It had started with the same night – he had found himself pressing his fingertips to his lips more than once like some stupid lovesick idiot. At first he was concerned that it was itching and he had caught some horrible sickness, but the morning after, straight after he had bolted to the mirror, he felt absolutely nothing.

That is, until he thought back to the kiss he and Alfred had shared the night before, and a tingling came back, almost as if he could taste the scent of pine and apples that had been lingering on his skin that evening when he crashed into his room…

Blushing furiously, he had quickly slipped on the clothes Anna had left hanging on the towel rack – bless her, she knew Arthur would misplace even the neatest of folded clothes – and prepped himself for Alfred's arrival, which never happened that morning.

Even though it was only the 30th, the Christmas decorations had been hastily taken down, as well as the hulking tree, and it had been like it had never happened, save for the little presents that Arthur had yet to open as he had been antsy waiting for a reply from his family.

The presents weren't numerous, and he had discussed something about a present opening until he realized that Alfonso had opened them on the 25th and Emma correctly on Boxing Day. He'd promised himself he'd do it as soon as his family replied…

However, Anna, as attentive to him as she always was, pulled him down for a quick distraction. It had first started off as a harmless conversation about clothes and Arthur fretting over his very blue wardrobe, but it was clear that she was thinking a little further than everyday wear.

"No, you can't wear that to any sort of thing you're planning for anytime soon," Anna said, laughing. "A simply thing you wear to every day events isn't enough to make his jaw drop.

"But what do I do, It's technically supposed to be within the rules and expectations of this stupid contest," Arthur grumbled, but couldn't really place much venom into the words. He let his gaze drift over the garments festooned onto his hangers in his large closet.

Anna's mouth thinned, and she gently grasped a trench coat – one of the shorter ones, mind you – from Arthur's grip. She seemed to try to place it back into his wardrobe, but a second thought made her poised hand pause, coming to stand beside where he had now paced to the window, watching the snow with him.

"Hey. I'm sure that His Highness doesn't like the process as much as the media likes to say he does," she said firmly. "The Deciding's all anyone can talk about ever since that Broadcast and the Hearts's one completely. Practically every paper and TV station has a section or slot devoted to it daily. If he were to cancel the process or drag it out, it would be bad for his reputation."

"After all of this…tension and drama, I'm not sure if he even will have a good future with me. I'm worried about how he'll fare…" Arthur trailed off.

"It's a huge choice he has to make, I suppose – and a large one at that. Trying to pick a soulmate out of thirty people. But you did mention that you wanted to step it up a little, and if you want to go a little further for him, you're going to need some help from me."

Arthur paused, turning from the window, seeing his maid's familiar, knowing smirk fall onto her face.

"Come on, Your Soon To Be Highness, We're going down to mingle with my friends – so we can try to meet your fancy standards?"

"I don't have any of them! Anything you've made is absolutely stunning, but it's just a thought I had, that's all."

"Judging from last night, Sir Arthur, I doubt it," she said playfully. "It's only natural you want to impress the object of your affections."

"His Highness has been busy with work these past few days, I only to spend some quality time with him afterwards," Arthur said, trying not to sound too determined.

"Well, I was thinking of possibly a few months into the future," she sang, "But all right. I'll see if your family's sent back any post, but it's only two days left to the New Year! Come on, you."

The room was completely packed with maids and butlers alike, all clothed in similar attired but just enough difference in their hair and facial expressions.

"Anna!" someone called around the front, and the rest of the room echoed her. "Welcome back, you!"

"Not like you to be in so late at night," one of the younger maids sitting in front of a sewing machine exclaimed. "Are you here to help fill in for Jamie?"

"What about him? Didn't he find some new bit of work to do?" Anna called back jokingly, while Arthur awkwardly followed. "Anyway, I've brought Sir Arthur down here today. He was thinking about a new garment."

Feeling that he should at his maid's expectant gaze, he stepped forward awkwardly, waving once.

The room almost erupted.

The maid in front of the sewing machine stood up immediately – suddenly appearing a little shorter than Arthur had envisioned her to be, auburn braids swinging underneath her cap.

"Sir…Sir Arthur! S-So sorry to be so impolite! I'm…my name's Jordan! Uhm, it's really a huge pleasure to meet you in person! I hope you and the prince are getting it on – n, NO, getting on very well!" she blustered, before Anna smiled, slightly embarrassed, and clapped a firm hand against the younger girl's shoulder in warning.

"Umm, nice to meet you too, Miss Jordan," Arthur said, feeling slightly mortified. She sounded ever so blunt – and what did she say about them getting it on? Getting what on? Becoming friendlier?

At that moment, Anna decided it was the best course of action to remove both embarrassed parties from the situation.

"Right, right, Arthur, here are the fabric rolls we choose from to make the garments," Anna continued, literally pulling him out of his confused daze.

"Do I just choose what I'd like?" he asked, perplexed at the large spread of material.

They ranged from the deepest, wine red velvet, to the lightest coloured chiffon white, some carefully stacked in piles of folded, crease free fabric draped over tubes in order to keep them straight whereas some fabrics were carefully rolled and spare spools for the sewing machines were stacked neatly in little, see through boxes. Mannequins and measuring tapes were strewn over the small corner of resources, and Arthur caught a glimpse of a butler carefully holding out a torn jacket for a seamstress to repair as he edged past them.

"Well, yes," she said, watching him sift through the material with a neurotic like gleam in her eye. "But since we're not finding a new shirt for your or the sort, we're going to have to take a better fit this time, I think. Better material as well – but if you don't want to, then…"

"No, I guess what you'd have in mind would certainly be a change. "If you know how to really impress the prince this time around…" he did his best to keep his voice down in case of unwanted attention.

But still, he swore that he heard a squeal from the left – Jordan, perhaps? – but Anna had leaned back on a cork top and was observing him with a bemused expression, her arms folded over her chest.

"Go on," she chided. "If – er, especially when you're going to be queen, female or male fashion sense is still going to be pretty darn important either way! The press is going to be all over you like that, and if I'm going to be still be with you even after this whole thing, I can't lose!"

"Of course," Arthur said, feeling reassured, "But what do you have in mind?"

"Well, then…I'm thinking of a dress," Anna said cheerfully. "What?" she said, taking in his surprised expression. "You have worn one before…but not to impress the prince. What do you think?"

"I guess a dress is a new change," Arthur said haltingly. "But I don't suppose another coat would be acceptable?"

"I was thinking a longer one with a darker shade of blue – royal blue this time, hmm?" she offered, pointing to a roll of the soft leather stuff. "A trench coat, like the one you wore in the summer – but for winter. That all right with you?"

Arthur gently touched it, it was almost soft as butter yet held the scent of leather as prominent as he had ever experienced it. Of course, his old jacket was a little lighter as he was a little doubtful at his ability to wear such a colour…

The sensation of leather, however, made it – rather confusingly, agh – think of Alfred yet again. His bomber jacket, wrapped around his shoulders and the furry cuff smelling so much like him…

Arthur ducked his head, turning red as he faced Anna again. He had a little idea of what he wanted to do…

"Got some mail for you! Pick it up on your way back, but go do whatever you need to first – I'll be finishing up your clothes tonight. Sleep safe," Anna said fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're going to go out there and knock the socks off him tomorrow."

"I hope that's not literal," Arthur said, but squeezed her hands. "I…really, this means a lot to me, Anna. Thank you very much."

"Hey, it's good that I get to help you more than just cheering for you," she smiled from ear to ear. "Just leave it to me!"

With a hint of excitement, Arthur collected the thick envelope from the butler who was standing next to her sewing station, then started to make his way up towards his room before he paused slightly, to the passageway of the gardens.

Purloining a silver lantern and a set of matches from a guard, who seemed a little reluctant but nevertheless did give it to him, he made his way out into the snow feeling relatively warm. He forgot everything, from his unopened presents, how Leon and Kiku were spending the evening, to Alfred's mouth moving against his, Alfred's strong arms pressing him flush against walls and melding their bodies as close as possible together, the softness of his wheat coloured hair, the smouldering gazes that burnt with a passion that Arthur couldn't understand completely as to why he would direct to him…

Idiot! Arthur cried out internally, shaking his head. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Stop thinking about him!

Creaking open the door to the outhouse, he placed the lantern onto the seat of the swing and held the letter a little closer to the seat. It was a little weird to be sitting on the smooth stone floor in a fancy set of pants and a green double breasted jacket. Even though Anna spoiled him in such a way that could only be shown through his carefully made clothes and their daily jokes, he still felt a little self conscious wearing such elaborate clothes for someone of a higher status.

But that's not going to be true for much longer, he thought internally as he worked to open the letter from his family, addressed to him through what was clearly Cormac's embellished writing – it wasn't as slapdash as Allistor's nor as slanted as Erin or Christian's, and Arthur seriously doubted they would let Dylan write it, bless him. Whatever happens during now, nothing's going to be different, right?

Erin had always kept a close eye on the lives of the women that had been invited to Alfred's father's Deciding. Apparently many of them had been married quickly and to very wealthy and prominent husbands, some even to wives in Spades and Hearts that were in close high society and lived in the Inner Circles. He had only remembered her saying something about a single person marrying for someone that she had known before the process.

To him, it felt like that if he was going to leave, he would become one of them. He didn't know anyone that he'd been interested romantically in before the Deciding, and now with his relationship with Alfred, he wasn't sure if he could enter in a relationship so quickly that feelings would be reciprocated on both of their sides. Arthur just didn't want his family to worry about what happened…

Taking a breath and exhaling, watching it billow out in the cold, he opened up the letter.

Hello Arthur!

Allistor here – Erin's taken a little bit ill with the sniffles this week. She got kind of shouty when I offered to write it for her the first time and started throwing pillows at me, then at Christian as he joined in.

But she's subdued a bit when I promised that I'd let her write a bit at the end.

Enough faff about the prince, how are you? I hope it's not as bad at the palace, even though you're a little up north compared to us. It's not that awful here – no one's caught, thank the Fates – just Erin. She was all worried about Dylan, but he's terribly active, the wee bairn. Comes in after grocery shopping with Christian with his cheeks as red like a cherub on our Christmas tree.

That's right, we've managed to afford a tree this year, thanks to you. The compensation from the holding facilities wasn't even half of what we get every month. This might just be stupid, talking about money, but I just want to thank you. Right, we might tease and everything, but I'm just happy that you got to find happiness with the prince through that bleeding process we had to put you through. And I'm still sorry about that.

Never mind. You can yell at me the next time we see each other. But I guess this is where I have to talk about the prince and stuff. Is he treating you well? Just remember, Artiekins, that even if he's the prince that doesn't mean he's entitled to anything. From Halloween, I trust that he's a good fella. But again…the caning happened straight after. He didn't have any control over it, I suppose? He's young. I'm guessing he's afraid. Having the whole country under his rule when he's only – what? Nineteen? Twenty? That's stress, Artie.

I just want to say – if you do become queen, and I know you will. We watched your Trials, and it just seemed so…natural. The other two were nice, but the two of you just seemed to work so well, and that's just what we need in a partnership. I admire his will; he seems to still be following his heart and not letting some idiots at the top to start bothering him. But you've seen Erin, and the things that have happened to her. Those boys grew tired of her – and what I'm trying to say is that under that stress of running a country at such a young age can break things. Love is strong in the bonds they forge, Arthur, but it can weaken you.

Don't forget that princes bleed and hurt like normal men.

He isn't ethereal, or a perfect human being, just because he's a prince. Right, Prince Alfred might seem just wonderful at the start, but you did tell us that you've had arguments before. I don't think that'll stop – in fact, that'll only get worse as time goes on. But don't doubt yourself. That's all, really.

Final-

The text was scrawled out, followed by a series of jagged, skewered lines that ended with a rip in the paper. Erin's handwriting, funnily enough, followed.

Hello Artiekins! Did you know that our older brother is a real piece of work? Thinks his mildly sister can't get up from her bed, thwack him with her pillow and snatch a fountain pen. I hope he won't fight too much…

But yeah. Allistor might be a bit cynical on a few bits, but I'm going to have to say that he's finally starting to write a handful of good points. I'm all for you two getting married (hurry up and do the proposing for him if he doesn't pick up that gorgeous face of his and GET TO WORK) but there's a lot of things that you have to be careful of. I know that my failed love life has kind of made you really cautious, and I can see why you've been so resilient, but you also have to learn to open up sometimes. Holding back isn't always so good.

And I think, that despite everything, Prince Alfred's a pretty good guy. I'm not just saying that because he's cute or the two of you are so adorable (marry please or just kiss more thanks), but he's not giving up on you. Yes, you can be a tough cookie. And even though he knows that, he's still all for you. And I kind of admire that resilience.

Fates, almost got some snot on the paper. I guess that's my cue to go, Artie. Please, look after yourself and have a Happy Christmas. You don't have to come home, just have a good time and stay true to yourself. Don't do anything reckless to impress the prince, just by the way he looks at you during those weekly Broadcast updates I can tell.

Lots of love, Erin

psst allistor wrote 80% of this from what i can see. allistor pls shut up erin and drink that soup when you come back from work. thank

- buy birthday gift for chris jan 18th

wait this is the letter for artie shit i might want to erase that

On that lovely note – with the same arching script that Cormac printed in - the letter ended, and Arthur was left breathless again.

He'd left the outhouse now, making his way amongst the roses in the gardens, and was still lost in thought. At least it wasn't snowing tonight...

But the darkness and tranquility of the night really gave him space to think compared to the lights of the palace. The blue roses were still vivid in their bloom, only dusted with a few hints of snow, and were as beautiful to look at as ever.

"What happened to enough faff about the prince?" he muttered to himself, rubbing his forearms. He'd been sitting out there for at least ten minutes, which was rather long even though he was a very fast reader... "That letter was all about our relationship again."

As Arthur walked though, he realized that Allistor had made him really think again, about their status of their relationship. With Anna so heavily hinting on an engagement, Alfred's solemn words about the New Years engagement, and the news from Hearts, it was clear that Alfred would propose to someone very soon.

Princes bleed and hurt like normal men. The whipping, again. Even though his brother didn't know about it, Arthur felt his words resonate painfully in his chest.

Did Arthur want to be the one Alfred chose? Allistor had pointed out the pressure that would be on his shoulders if he was chosen to be queen. At only eighteen – nineteen, in April – he'd be one of four rulers of Spades. And that was rather frightening. A leader of a country – was he even worthy of the job, just because he had fallen in love with Alfred so?

"Arthur!" With a shout in the distance, he whipped around, lantern dangling precariously from his finger as he thrust it out warily.

And bless him, a rosy cheeked Alfred appeared, wearing his royal jacket and a pair of jodhpurs, which were definitely not fit for the weather they were in, but he was panting as he approached him. Running, maybe? The whipping came back to him. What if he had aggravated his wounds?

"Arthur…Artie, what are you doing here?" he said, brushing off his hair that had been sweeping too much into his right eye. "It's freezing out here!"

"Arthur," he reprimanded, but Arthur's eyes softened as Alfred bent down, obviously being dramatic for his enthusiasm. "And I thought you were on business?"

"Nah, just a lot of calls from King Francis from Diamonds," he said, offering a crooked smile. "He likes to talk a lot, but Joker Gilbert's en route and should come by the first week of the New Year. They were even planning a birthday celebration…but never mind. I just was thinkin' of going to the blacksm – uh, t-taking out Butterscotch, you know…then saw you just in the gardens by your lonesome and you know me, I got worried."

"You know by now that there's no need for that," Arthur sighed, but relaxed the arm holding the lantern, letting it fall a little lower. "I can walk around a garden by myself."

"True," he said, grinning cheesily. "But I do worry about 'cha. Hey – you cold?"

"It's just a little bit chilly-" Arthur said, hoping that the cold flush around his cheeks and nose wouldn't be too prominent against the lantern, but by then Alfred had removed his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders with a flourish.

"What are you-"

"I'm being a hero," Alfred smiled, bending down in such an exaggerated fashion that made Arthur laugh as he pressed warm kisses to his knuckles. "Milady-"

"You did not," Arthur gaped in fake astonishment. "You're paying for that comment!"

"Aww, how?"

"…a walk in the gardens with me. Right now. And you're not allowed to have your jacket with you, since it was your own stupid idea to give it to me," Arthur said, but slipped his free hand into the sleeves of his long sleeved shirt anyway, checking to see if his hand was cold. No, it was fine…

"Whatever makes you happy," Alfred sang. With the prickly teasing that he had mentioned in the note he got for Christmas, he realized that he wouldn't change Arthur for the world. The way his eyes sparkled with mirth and creases appeared when he was smiling…he wouldn't trade it for the world.

You do, idiot, Arthur thought endearingly as he squeezed Alfred's hand and they wandered around the gardens together, just like they had when they were a little more foolish but as much in love as they were now.

But, in the end, I do want you to choose me. Above everything...

i was thinking of writing a gift fic but we'll see

replies

vivadragnire - not quite back yet for prucan tho! i have a few loose ends to tie up then maybe. nah there is i promise!

russia says hello - me too, i say as i put off writing the coronation scene lmao

guest - ah no, thank you very much! i only used the power of assumption since one of switzerland's four official languages is french and i thought that would apply to liech as well. the land/map's not exactly labelled out using the one we have in real life, but that's a sore mistake on my part even so. thanks for fact checking me!

pastaaddict - with her timings i think she has a built in usuk alarm clock. i want one too

francestan - yes. have all the angst. also my updating schedule is getting worse so i'm not sure, but thank you ;o;

hearthorse11 - haha that's fine! i'm late with this update so it cancels itself out - and congrats to your grandparents! and i don't know about my life either so no sweat...haha

n kukuri chan - yup. i felt that they were lacking in screentime so then i decided to add a bit of a shoutout to them! even thoguh i don't feel like emphasis on rochu will be placed anytime soon, i think that it needed some sort of attention. / pfft really though, he does sound a bit like the bard. oops

and i'm honoured! i love putting in those little references. seriously, if we were to annotate the fic (all, er, 220k+ of it) there would just be so much foreshadowing. and cringe haha. (PS: care to share what the hunch is? ;)

reviews, favourites and follows are what will keep me writing, so please go ahead and leave them!