Alfred tugged on the fancy dress shirt that a handmaiden tucked into his pants. One of them murmured from the side, "Oh, oh, his legs are so long!"

"Ankles are showing. Tsk."

Another agreed, "These are the tallest trousers we have. I'm afraid that generation-after-generation of Kirkland's left our wardrobes a bit...on the slighter side."

Wow, way to make a guy self-conscious.

They led him to a secluded hall alongside the main room. The Queen sat on his throne, and when Alfred peeked around the corner, catching a head of sunny hair beside an empty chair (his soon-to-be chair, apparently), he ducked back into the hall, ears pounding. That was probably Arthur's fist against his skull already.

Alfred uneasily smiled at the women picking at lint, smoothing creases and nonchalantly squeezing his biceps. The handmaidens took him in much easier than the Queen would under any circumstance. They were full of giggles as they dunked him in the first warm bath he had in weeks. He didn't even have to scrub his own back! They tittered, waved their goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Those who passed the Queen's perch found a stony look on their faces as they bowed their heads and scurried away. Arthur did not even react.

Footsteps. Alfred jumped and turned around. Yao, with Matthew by his side, put a finger to his lips. "It's much more becoming of you to be in sunlight than in that dank dungeon. I will handle things from here, and," a sigh, "if everything goes wrong..."

Alfred weakly nodded. "See you back in prison."

Yao mused, "Except on the same side this time." He nodded to Matthew, who stayed behind as he stepped into the main room. Alfred wondered if that was the last time he'd see the Jack walk straight.

"There you are," Arthur announced. Alfred stilled. "Yao. Where have you been?" His voice softened, "Your tea is going to get cold."

"Thank you, my Queen," Yao said quietly. Pause. He picked a cup from a nearby cart and brought it to his lips. Last meal. He glimpsed to Alfred's spot. "I just came from the dungeon."

Another pause.

Arthur grew sharp, "What of it?"

Yao cleared his throat.

Matthew nudged his brother's arm. "Let's go."

"Oh, Gods," Alfred whimpered. At least this time, he'll have buddies in his cell. Maybe they could play charades when they get tossed down there. They stepped into the main throne room.

Arthur peered around his seat, curious of the silence and Yao's pointed stare. As soon as his gaze latched onto Alfred's, he flew to his feet, cussing, "No, no! Yao! What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Yao! Explain yourself! No, wait! I don't even want to hear it. Guards!"

Yao raised a hand, swishing them away. "It is fine! Stay where you are! Let us speak."

The Knights glanced to one another, torn.

Arthur grew an impressive shade of red as he looked nowhere else besides pouring death onto Alfred. "There's two of them."

"Your highness," Yao started.

Matthew stepped forward, holding out a hand. He glanced to the guards putting their hands on their hilts, and jerked back. He bowed at the waist instead. "Oh, good evening, your highness? My name is Matthew. You've...obviously met my brother...and, um..."

"And?"

Matthew flinched. Yao performed a thumbs-up gesture behind the Queen. "Yao enlightened me of his actions, and on the behalf of our family, I'm so, so sorry for the mess and stress he's caused."

Arthur lifted a grand eyebrow. "And?"

Matthew glanced around the looming guards. Yao swished his hands, quickly tucking them in his sleeves when the Queen tossed a hard look over his shoulder.

"And why exactly did Yao do that, hm?"

Yao lifted his chin, meeting Arthur's eye.

A teeny giggle got the best of Alfred.

Arthur's expression dumped molten hatred upon their heads. "What do you have to say for yourself, whelp? Instead of letting your brother do all the talking!"

Yao opened his mouth, but clamped shut, pointedly looking away. Alfred gently nudged Matthew's shoulder when he put a hand in front of him. "It's all right, Mattie." He quickly snuck in before they would be vaporized, "Love you, man." Taking a step forward, Alfred raised his head and voice to the green fire smoldering in the Queen's eyes. "You are like, so amazing."

Matthew grunted, "Uh, what."

Yao slapped a palm to his forehead.

"You-!"

Alfred shot over Arthur's murderous intent, "Everything I did was never to annoy you. Never! It was never to spy. Never to...to rub my hands together like some kind of bad guy and chuckle deviously to myself."

Matthew groaned behind him, "Alfred, this isn't...what?"

"I just felt this pull to come here! To see you. To be near you. I know it sounds strange, but it's the truth! I wanted to make you happy. I still do! To make you smile, a-and laugh, and maybe forget all that royal stuff that's been stressing you out." Alfred glimpsed away from the Queen's steady glower as his cheeks started to get hot. Everything he rehearsed had come out in a blabbing jumble. "I didn't know how much your roses mean to you. If I had better means, I would have gotten you something better. I hate it when you look downright miserable. I just wanted to change that, even if it's for a little bit. I just wanted you to know."

Glaring. More glaring. Alfred wanted to fidget. Giggle some more. He swallowed. The Queen's glorious eyebrows shifted, lifting to something of shock, rather than homicidal intent. Progress.

Matthew added, while Arthur was getting down, "I came by to fetch my brother. He's been gone for nearly three weeks and our chickens miss him." He bumped a hip against Alfred's, exchanging grins, "I guess I missed him, too."

"Ah. Hm. Hmph," Arthur's eyes flickered around the gathering, sending a sharp look as he resigned from his 'looming' posture toward the twins. "I see."

For the last attack, the brothers sickened their best pouts and puppy eyes onto their Queen.

Arthur kept his gaze away from Alfred as his face turned pink. "You're just a little fool, then."

Alfred flashed a toothy smile. "And?"

One of the guards scoffed. Arthur automatically held up a hand. "I suppose you're asking for forgiveness?"

"That would be just peachy, your highness."

A roll of the eyes, not like a Queen should, but his shoulders eased with a sly smile. "Since you abided decent punishment in the dungeons...fine. I think I'm feeling a bit merciful today. I'll let you leave the palace, Farmer Alfred. You'll be properly escorted," Arthur narrowed his eyes, "and you will stay out. To the end of your days. If you are caught anywhere on this mountain again, you will be slain on sight."

"Oh. Wow. Thanks."

Another eye-roll. Arthur turned away.

"Um, something else?" Alfred cringed as he whipped around. More softly, "Queen Arthur?"

"Yes...?"

Alfred stuck his hand out. He didn't miss how a few Knights found their weapons. "Would you mind shaking on it?"

Arthur scoffed. Grabbed his hand. His fingers were thin and cool to the touch. Alfred wished he could warm them. He gave a pleasant squeeze and winked. Manly handshake.

Yao lunged forward, producing something clunky from his sleeve. Alfred wedged his eyes shut as Arthur jumped, but it was too late. Everything clicked into place. A long, metal shackle bound the Queen and farm boy.

Matthew and Yao backed away, like a lion was posed in the middle of the throne room. Arthur lifted his bound hand, and gave the Jack a bewildered stare. "Yao. What is this?"

"A shackle, sire."

"Uh-huh." Arthur shook his arm. "Funny. Ha-ha. There, a laugh. Unlock it now. Go on. Chop-chop."

"I am afraid I cannot."

"Enough, Yao. Unlock the damn thing now."

Nothing.

Murderous intent flared up again. "Yao. That is an order from your Queen!"

"It is impossible for me to unlock that shackle, your highness."

"What do you mean?! Why would you even shackle up your Queen in the first place? Hello!" Alfred smiled, unsettled as Arthur whipped the chain around. "Don't just stand there!"

The guards looked incredulously amongst another before turning to Yao. The Jack kept cool, hands held in front of himself as usual when Arthur got in his face. "It's magically locked. An ancient spell. Not even someone renown in the arts like you could break it. Unless..."

"Unless what?!"

Yao turned to Alfred. "You forgot to mention something."

Arthur whirled on Alfred. The Knights glanced around, unsure who to skewer. "Uh, yeah, um, maybe I should demonstrate this? Do you have something that you don't mind being broken?"

Yao produced another stone. Alfred wondered how many he had up there. A toss, he neatly caught it, and held it up for everyone to see. Then, he clenched his fist and crumbled the rock to dust. Arthur gawked at the debris sprinkling from Alfred's hand to the floor. "What in the world...?"

The Knights started to murmur amongst another.

Yao answered for everyone, "The strength of one worthy to the Spadian throne. To think he discovered this in your dungeon, my Queen. You two were so close, yet so far."

"No," Arthur slowly shook his head, backing away from his Jack. "No, that's...that's ridiculous. He's a farmer. Not...whatever!"

"A successor to the throne?"

"No!"

"Beside you?"

"Absolutely not!" The Queen's voice cracked. He picked up his shackled hand and sent an arc of green sparks against the metal. Alfred flinched. Nothing happened. Arthur yelled incoherently.

Yao smiled through it all. "In order for it to open, you must accept Alfred as your King."

Arthur pointed at an unsuspecting vase across the room, and it spontaneously shattered into hundreds of pieces. A couple of nearby maids watching it all exclaimed in shock and hurried to clean up the mess. He turned to Yao. "Unlock this. This instant!"

"Even if I wanted to, I cannot. The key is in your hands."

Arthur's glower dropped to his palms. No keys there. He glared at Alfred. "You. You're no King. You'll never be a King! Why didn't you just go home?! This is a joke!" He jerked forward, going to step down from the thrones' platform, but the chain grew tight. He tumbled to his knees.

Alfred yelled, "Queen Arthur!"

The Knights swarmed him. "Your highness!"

"Are you all right?!"

Arthur roared and swiped at their faces. "Back! Get back, all of you. Augh!" Some shudder ran up the chain, making Alfred's hand tremble. Something crackled. The chain held. "No, no, no, no!" One of the maids clutched onto another vase, in case that one exploded, too. Arthur flew to his feet, yanking on the shackle. Alfred yelped and stumbled forward. "You...argh! Let's go!"

Matthew cried out, "Alfred!"

Yao, "Your highness!"

"It's okay!" Alfred called behind himself, "I'll deal with it!"

Arthur let out a bark, not exactly laughing as they fled the throne room. Alfred stared at the back of his head with haunted eyes.

"Somehow."

~.~

Zap! Zap!

"For Gods' sake!"

"Sir, I don't think that's going to work."

"Not one word from you."

They sat upstairs, in some kind of secluded lounge. Arthur kept shooting magic bolts at their bind. "That's Queen Arthur to you, peasant."

"I'm not a peasant."

"Well, you're not a King."

Alfred tried not to smile. "No, I'm not." Not yet. "I'm not sure what I am now."

"You have that super strength, don't you?" Arthur shook some chain at his face. "Make yourself useful."

Alfred unleashed a big sigh and grabbed the shackles and squeezed. "It's not coming off."

"You're not trying hard enough!" Zap! "Or at all!"

Alfred shoved the bind in front of Arthur and squeezed until his knuckles were bone-white. "See?! Not working!"

"Ugh!" Arthur slapped him away, only to throw his face in his hands. "Gods, it keeps getting worse and worse, doesn't it?"

"Wow. Thanks."

Arthur let that one slide.

They sat in silence for a while. Alfred waited for the Queen to start screaming, sobbing, or blowing something up. Nothing. Yet.

"Did you ever think," Alfred started, "of how Spades started?"

Arthur picked up his head with a disgusted scoff, eager to sneer, "I know how the Kingdom started from colonies of the old empire, you uneducated fuck-wit."

Alfred really tried not to smile. There was strength, there was grace. There were more sides to the Queen of Spades, ones Alfred would have never been able to witness, to adore, to fear, if he had not climbed that mountain. "No, I mean the first Kings and Queens."

"I know that, too-"

"No! I mean who they were. Before they were royalty. If they were just plain soldiers, or accountants, or-"

"Your point is?"

"I don't know why you're bashing on me for being a farmer. You like eating our crops, don't you?"

Arthur snorted.

Alfred kept going, "You act like I have to be a farmer for my entire life. Like that's all I know. That's all I can know. Eventually, a seed can become its very own tree someday."

"Or it can shrivel up in the ground and die." Arthur stood up, about to take a step from the loveseat, but the chain clinked. He flopped down with a sigh. "That's...that's not the issue, Alfred. That's not the issue at all. I don't care if you're a farmer, or an accountant, or a soldier."

Alfred blinked. "You don't? Then why-"

"You should stay a farmer. For your sake. For my sake. For the sake of everyone who lives under this roof and beyond. Before you go mad."

"I'm not angry."

"Not angry. Crazy. That power running through you right now? You can crush rocks with your bare hands. Great. Eventually, your arse hits that throne, and you'll see what's before you. A Kingdom. All those people. Right under your super-strong fingertips."

"You think I'm going to go around squishing people's brains out?"

"Ugh, no, you..." The Queen resituated himself with a sharp exhale through the nose. Alfred smiled and wanted to squish his face against his. "You have all the power in the land. What do you do with it?" He answered before Alfred could, "You let it get to your head. Like so many others. Spades has lost too many of her Kings this way."

"Spades loses its Kings? Do their heads explode?"

"No, Alfred they go insane. Clinically. They can't control their strength. They crave more power, forcing their Queens to..." Arthur clamped up. He swallowed, covering it with a scoff, "Most of them must meet their end through their own family's hands. Or the Knights. Whoever gets the blunt end of their rampage first."

Alfred swiped a hand over his mouth. Yao didn't mention that when he rejoiced him as future-King. "Do...do all of the Spadian Kings deal with this? Are they all doomed to..." He met Arthur's steady side-eye. "Do they all go nuts in the end?"

"Hmph." Arthur looked away, teasing a teeny uplift of the lips, "No, not everyone. I suppose if you can squash your...Kingly urges, and you have good people keeping you in check, then everyone will get out just fine."

"But you think I'll be one of those nutty ones."

"You're coming from the dirt, Alfred. It's a dramatic leap to the throne. I'm just saying, if it happens, if it starts to happen, I'll see it from a while away."

Despite it all, Alfred perked up, "Oh, so you're already all right with me being your King?"

Arthur's cheeks immediately flushed a lovely pink. "No! I was just speaking hypothetically!"

"Ah." Alfred didn't believe it. They had to end on those thrones together, or else that darn shackle would never come off! With Alfred's strength, and the Queen's magic skills, the thing did not even break a sweat.

"I'm not having some King, whoever they are, assume everything I slave to maintain and make me watch as they ruin it all in one foul swoop!"

"Who says I'm going to do that?" Alfred tittered, "I don't even know how to run a Kingdom!"

"One day, you will. Then what? Hypothetically, of course."

"Sure. Uh...I think we could rule together? I mean, there are two throne chairs, right?"

Arthur swished a hand.

Alfred kind of wanted to pull it off. "The Queen's the most powerful piece on the chessboard."

"Yeah? But you can keep playing without one. Once your King is gone," Arthur snapped in Alfred's face, "game over."

Alfred scrunched his nose. "Not this round, apparently."

"Ah, yes, a Queen disguised as a King. Look how well that's working out for him."

"Mattie and I used to play chess all the time when we were younger. Every time he took my Queen, I lost." Alfred made sure to catch this Queen's eye. "Every. Time."

Arthur turned his face away. "It's going to be dinner soon."

Alfred quietly sighed at the subject-drop, but his stomach marveled at the prospect of something else besides whatever gunk and chunks of meat they pawned in the dungeons. "A-are we going to eat together?"

"We certainly don't have a choice, do we?" Arthur sourly noted as he rose to his feet. "You'll be eating with everyone, idiot. It's not a date."

"Am I even allowed to eat?"

"No, Alfred. Starve before the Royal Court."

"Well, I kind of did in that dungeon..."

"Oh, would you just be quiet already?!"

~.~

"Here, sir! Eat another one!"

Alfred dramatically rolled his eyes from the mess of plates piled in front of him, all the way to the ceiling, grinning as handmaidens offered another slice of fruit tart. "Oh, I don't know. I already had six. I think after that fish, I'm at my limit here."

"One more, sir! You can do it!"

"Yes! Please do! We have so much spare in the kitchen!"

"You have more?!" Alfred eagerly took the plate from their hands. "Jeez, then how can I say no?"

The Suits, One to Ten sat at the table, along with the Queen and Jack, gawking as Alfred proceeded to gulp down his seventh piece of fruit tart, after two platters of fish and three baked potatoes. Matthew sat beside him, hand over his forehead, trying to pretend he was an only child.

"Aw, man. Oh! Umph. So good. Oh, wow. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have ate that last one. Oh, but it was soooo good! Who made this?"

"Our sous chef, sir."

"Tell him I love him!"

"Her, but we'll make sure she gets the memo!" The maids took some mountains of plates away, fleeing into the kitchen with delighted giggles. Arthur's hand clamped over his eyes as one of the Suits snickered.

"Interesting pet, your highness."

Another one, with equally thick brows agreed in the same snarky tone, "You ought to keep him on a leash!"

"Where'd you find that little guy? Under your bed?"

Yao stared at the men, unimpressed. Arthur turned his head away. Alfred snatched a stray crumb off his plate before it was taken away, and said, "No, my brother and I came from a farm."

"You came from a farm?!"

"Who's your brother?"

Alfred gestured. Matthew groaned.

"Ha! He said they came from a farm!"

Alfred gave the Queen a bewildered glance, but Arthur didn't say or do anything. "Yeah? Where'd you come from? Did the stork drop off at the wrong dump bin?"

One of the Suits clenched his fists against the table. "You little shite! Do you know who you're talking to?"

"Um, no? You were just making fun of me for being a farmer. I don't get-"

"Enough!" Arthur hollered. "Stop bickering like children! Gods! You're all supposed to be grown adults!"

One of the taller men flinched and hissed in a snide manner, "Ooh, mummy didn't change your nappy before giving you her teat!"

"Wah, wah!"

Alfred glanced between Suits, familiar thick brows. "Wait, you guys are the Queen's brothers? You have brothers?"

Arthur, without looking up from his plate, dully noted, "My parents happened to have other children besides me, yes."

One of them tipped back a glass of wine and bellowed, "When a King and Queeny love each other veeeery much...!"

The others roared with laughter. Matthew flinched from all the noise.

"Hey!" Alfred grinned, holding up an unused plate. "Guess what?" He snapped it in two.

The other men immediately went quiet. One grumbled, "Ah, yeah, I could do that, too," but didn't demonstrate. Some went as far as to avoid his eyes. Oh, what a nice tablecloth, that was! Or the ceiling! Ah, yes, the ceiling, the most royal ceiling of them all.

Arthur shot out of his seat. "We're leaving."

Alfred had no choice but to follow. They cut through the kitchen, and the staff hustled back and forth with vats of dirty dishes and grease traps, trying to avoid barreling into their Queen. He clamped a hand on Arthur's shoulder and held up a finger.

"Don't touch me. What are you do-"

"Hey, everybody!"

The workers looked up with wide eyes. Alfred's voice carried further than he thought. Affixing a bright grin, he waved like all the attention was not on him. "That was my first meal I had here...actually, my first real meal here, and let me tell you guys, that was freaking amazing! I love, loved the fruit tart. I had seven pieces. Seven!"

Arthur grumbled beside him, "Oh, you're bloody kidding."

The chefs glanced to one another. One of the women stepped forward with a hand to her chest. "I heard that there was a special guest that enjoyed my fruit tarts very much. Thank you, sir, for your gusto!"

Alfred threw his hands up in the air and whooped. The chefs and dishwashers stared, stunned as he grinned at all of them. "When I'm King, like, for real, I want a fruit tart every night!"

They shifted their shock to the Queen, who blanched and crossed his arms. "So, it is true? A King? We're getting a King?"

"Yes, look, they're even shackled together!"

"I was wondering what that was."

"You know the Queen, sometimes-"

"Oh, oh my!" One of the older women waved a hand in front of her face. She had onions on her tray, so that may have been it. "It's been so long since! Come here, let us get a good look at you!"

"Hey!" Alfred beamed as the cooks swarmed him, cooing and one even squeezed his cheeks.

"Look, you're so skinny! We'll need to fatten you right up!"

Alfred ran his hands down his stomach. "That's what I call the dungeon diet!"

A man eagerly stuck a plate to Alfred's face. "Some triple fudge cake, sir?"

"Ooh," Alfred bemoaned the sight. Triple fudge cake. "If I knew that was back here, I would have saved some room for it! I'm going to explode!"

"Well, the kitchen's always opened for you, sire, so it will be waiting!"

Arthur snapped over the ruckus, "Do not call him 'sire!'" The cooks went dead quiet. "He is not your King. He is not your leader!"

Alfred added with a cheeky grin, "Not yet."

Arthur jerked on the chain. "Not ever! I'm going to find a way to get this damn thing off and you're going right back to the farm as soon as it's off, and you're staying there!"

The kitchen crew glanced to Alfred with fright as they backed away, slinking back to their work stations. No more whooping and smiles. Alfred's heart plummeted with the mood. "Well," he tried, "because Arthur won't say it, thanks. Thanks for dinner. It was delicious." Louder, right in Arthur's ear, "And I hope to have many more here!"

Arthur cringed, shooting a hand up to shove Alfred away. Some of the cooks flashed him cute smiles as he was forced out of the kitchen. "Stupid. What was that?!"

"What? I was just thanking them for dinner!"

"You don't thank them for dinner. It's their job to make us dinner."

"It's still a nice thing to do. It's called manners."

Arthur sucked in a loud breath as he powerhoused around the palace, down some halls, pass some fancy curtains and statues, "Oh, do not start with me about manners!"

"If you thank them more often, maybe then they won't shit themselves in fear every time you step into the kitchen."

"I am the Queen. They should soil their pants at the sight of me, anyway."

"And maybe they'd be less inclined to spit in your food."

Arthur gasped, seething red, "They better not!"

Alfred snickered. "Where are we going anyway?"

"To the library. I'm search top-to-bottom for this spell Yao put on this thing. I'll take all night if I have to, and if none of our hundreds upon hundreds of volumes on ancient spells are there, I'm going to tear Yao's room apart for it!"

"Ooh, you sound so proud of yourself."

"My Queen? Um, your highness!"

Alfred stopped, jerking on the chain when Arthur kept going. Arthur yelped, whipping around at the hold up, "Let's go, whelp!"

A lone maid scurried to the pair, stopping a little ways away and quickly bowing. "Your highness! We were wondering if you would like a warm bath after dinner." She stammered, "We got the shipment of lavender oil in that we know you like!"

Arthur's cheeks turned pink. "Ah, you did?" The chain jangled, and his eyes went vacant. "Oh. No. No, no!" The maid raised her eyebrows, looking to Alfred like he had all the answers. "What, I can't even bathe without you there?!"

"Uh...guess not."

Apparently that was the wrong answer. Arthur yanked on the chain once. "I can't believe this situation you put me into! You'll stand outside of the tub while I'm doing what I have to do."

"Okay, then you can stand outside when I'm doing what I have to do."

"No. You went weeks without a bath down in the dungeons. I'm sure you can handle it."

"What?" Alfred flabbergasted. "No! You either stand outside when I'm taking a bath, or we go in there together so we don't have to stand around and wait until other is done!"

"Absolutely not! I am not getting into a tub with you!"

"I'm not going without a bath because you have to be a little princess about everything!"

"A little princess?!" Arthur lurched forward and snagged the front of Alfred's shirt into fists. "Do you see this shackle? I'll make you eat it if you want to so bad."

Alfred licked his lips. The Queen was an extraordinarily handsy man for somebody that was supposed to be proper.

"Y-your highness," the maid started.

Arthur released Alfred with a little shove. Alfred didn't budge too much. "You will stand out of the tub, facing the other way, with a blindfold!"

"With a blindfold?!"

"That's right!"

"That's just plain stupid."

"What I say goes." To the traumatized maid, "Find me a blindfold!"

"No, no," Alfred shook his hand at her. "I'm not going to blindfold myself like I'm a nun at a brothel."

"The Queen's word is absolute!"

"Or what? You'll throw me in the dungeon?" Alfred jangled their bind. "You'll be tagging along, you know."

The maiden shrunk. "Um...so..."

Alfred couldn't help a grin at the flush spreading down Arthur's neck, the absolute horror in his wide green eyes. The worst of the worst nightmares! "Yep. We're going to be eating, bathing, sleeping, and skipping down the halls together, your highness!"

"No!"

"Draw a bath for two!"

~.~

"Keep to your own side of the tub. Better yet, don't even look at me!"

"Ooh! I'm looking!"

"Alfred!"

"Ha-ha! I actually didn't." Even though Alfred was tempted. A maid offered Alfred a choice between a rosy scrub, or that lavender oil stuff that was mentioned earlier. "Ooh, I'll take the rose one." He leaned against Arthur's back and grinned how he tensed from the contact. "I love roses."

"Sure you do," Arthur's voice dripped with malice as he shoved an elbow against his side to get him to retreat to his own side of the huge basin. "Enough to rip them apart and scatter them at my feet."

"Just like your hopes and dreams, huh?" Alfred remarked. He jumped as a couple of lady hands ran up his arms. "Whoa, hey! I can do that!"

"Oh, no, sir, we insist."

Alfred grinned as the maidens tittered. He liked to imagine the stream rising from the bath water came from Arthur's ears. "Actually," as nice as the attention felt, "I appreciate it, but I'd like to talk to the Queen for a bit. Alone."

Arthur unleashed a loud, drawn-out groan. "I've talked to you enough today for a lifetime!"

The ladies glanced between the pair. "It's all right," Alfred said. "You can go. It's not the first time I had to wash myself."

They nodded and scurried away.

"Look at that," Arthur sneered. "Everyone likes you. It must be nice."

"It is nice, Arthur."

"Hmph. Queen Arthur."

"They already seem to accept me. Must be the way I put myself out there. A shame that you haven't, though."

Arthur vowed, "I will never accept you as my King."

"It's okay. When I'm King, that can be something we can look back on and laugh about."

"Ugh!" Arthur whipped around and hollered, "What's wrong with you?"

Alfred glanced over his shoulder, taken back from the sudden volume before turning. "Nothing's wrong with me. Okay, maybe there's a little bit, probably with the fact I'm underweight now. I hope to fix that soon." Especially with that triple fudge cake.

"You've been laughing and turning around everything I say! The sheer arrogance! From a farm child! I already have enough people not taking me seriously! Why did you have to shove yourself into my life when I never even asked for it?!"

"Um..." Alfred fidgeted in the bathwater. "Because I wanted to know you?"

"Because you wanted to know me," Arthur mocked. "That's just fucking sad."

A heavy wave of heat hit Alfred's face. It felt stuffy and unpleasant. He let out a short chuckle, "Oh."

"What, you going to cry now, farm boy?"

Tempting. "Did you want me to cry, your highness?"

Arthur snorted but didn't respond.

"I'm going to be the King," Alfred told him. "I'll be working for the people and helping them out in any way I can. Making Spades the best. Keeping it strong. Plus, I get to live in a fancy-ass palace." Despite the half-truths tumbling from his mouth, he pulled a half-smile against Arthur's scowl, "It's almost like a dream."

Arthur promptly turned his back on him again. "Gods, everything you're thinking about is all for yourself already." His voice sounded not-so sturdy, "It's not a dream, you fool. It's an absolute nightmare. Nothing good comes out of it besides stress and suffering. The castle is going to chew you up and spit you out with the way you're prattling about."

Alfred blinked at his bare back, trying to hold back the stinging sensation in his eyes. "I don't think so. I won't let it happen. I'll try and keep trying to be a good King."

"Of course you'd say that."

~.~

It didn't get any better as the night went on.

"You're going to stay on this side of the bed." Arthur jabbed a wretched finger at a lump of blankets and pillows like he just proclaimed new land. "If I wake up and you're all over my side, I'm kicking you to the floor, and you can stay there."

The Queen's King (ha-ha) bed seemed fairly divided. Even if it wasn't, it was still a big bed. Alfred could fit his brother, Yao, and maybe some of those maids all on there. Not that he would, the first time sleeping with the Queen.

Whoa, not 'sleeping with,' sleeping with. Literally sleeping...

Never mind.

As soon as Alfred breached the bed, the Queen's bed (the bed! For the Queen of Spades! With the Queen in it!), he blurted, "Wow! This is comfy! These blankets are so thick and soft!"

Arthur didn't reply.

Alfred grunted and turned to his side, smile and good mood dying as his stomach extracted its revenge. After withering in the dungeon, making it work seven-fold did not make a happy tummy. Oh, no, it didn't. The blankets felt a bit heavy. He peeled one away. Flipped to his other side. Arthur was a stiff rock, kind of in the way for the mattress to shift accordingly. After a while lying in the darkness, Alfred decided to keep still and hope he would eventually pass out, no matter how much he wanted to turn over.

Arthur sniffed. Let out a shaky breath. Shifted his legs around.

Alfred sighed, too sleepy to open his eyes when the mattress trembled. Another sniffle. A low grunt came from the Queen. Alfred tilted his head in his direction, furrowing his eyebrows. His eyes snapped open, and he jerked, sitting up. "Arthur!" No response. He couldn't really see anything, so he blindly felt around, until he groped an arm. "Hey! Hey!"

Loud and sudden, "Leave me alone!"

"But you're-"

A hand smacked Alfred's away. "Let a man cry himself to sleep, all right?!"

Alfred blindly blinked in the Queen's direction, listening to his stuffy breaths. This wasn't the way he wanted things to go. Some resistance was expected, as Alfred was indeed, a farmer at a certain time in his life, but Arthur trying to sob himself unconscious was not the plan. "Arthur!" He blurted, "I'm sorry, but I was lying earlier!"

A sharp sniff. "Ugh. What?"

"I was lying! Kind of!" Alfred squeezed his eyes shut against the heat slapping his face, "I came here for you and I want to stay here for you! Dad used to tell us fairytales of princesses and Kings in castles and fighting dragons and stuff. Even if there are no dragons, and living in a big, fancy palace is nice and all, I really, really like thinking about eating every meal with you, and hearing about your day, and getting to be in your day, and being in your night, and being the King is just a bonus that guarantees that I'm going to be helping you out with the Kingdom and helping the Kingdom and-"

A pillow smashed into Alfred's face.

"Enough with that prissy-baby shite! I'm trying to sleep!"

Alfred gave his head a worried shake. Nothing rattled from inside. "Nuh-uh! You're crying-"

"Yes, crying myself to sleep. Now! If you don't mind!" Arthur shoved his pillow under his head and flopped back onto his side. Then the muttering, to himself, "Gods, acting like a complete love-struck fool..."

Being a love-struck fool sounded better than a King sniveling and twirling an evil mustache to the beat of tearing a Queen's Kingdom apart.