Down the porch, down the floral path, they veered into an enclosed area from the rest of the gardens. Alfred gasped at the sight of dummies, punching bags and obstacles that could mean only one thing; sparring! He would definitely spar his brother, just like old times on the farm, only this time on sand rather than mud.

A small building with a front porch overlooked the massive sand pit, and Yao greeted from the railings as they came closer, "I figured you would be quick. You're getting fidgety, Alfred."

Alfred flashed a grin. "Is this where I get to throw javelins and learn how to lob off two of my enemies' heads at the same time?"

Yao furrowed his eyebrows. "I am not sure what you think we Royals do around here, but if you are asking if this is our training ground for our Knights, then yes, it is. I had it cleared out this afternoon for our convenience."

The twins gave one another barely suppressed looks of glee.

"There are many things a King must do, or should I say a King-to-be must learn to do to prove he is worthy of the Spadian throne. Defending himself and his homestead is one of them. You are the symbol and peak of strength."

"But I already got super strength." As soon as Arthur let out a scoff, Alfred knew that was a silly thing to say.

The vague concern on Yao's face confirmed it. "Are you going to rely on your fists for everything?"

"No, guess not."

"It is wise to admit that, as it is wise to accept help from the people and environment around you."

Arthur straightened, puffing out his chest, "I already know how to do everything here. From the hurdles to the jousting."

"But do you know how to do it with somebody else? You always had a weak spot there, your highness. All three of us are the head of the castle, but you cannot blunder forward blindly and hope everyone else can keep up." The Jack pointed to Alfred and Arthur's chain. "You two have to cooperate in order to properly lead this Kingdom. Instead of letting your teammates fall, let them help you! They are there for a reason!"

"Hmph." Arthur gave the chain a tug. "He'll only get in my way."

Yao raised a hand. "Then teach him!"

The sand exploded around the chained pair, swaths of sediment coming forward into beastly shapes to lunge for the kill. Alfred and Matthew yelled, and the latter leaped and sprinted away, leaving a sand beast to reach for his brother's face. A snap, a glint of steel, and Arthur skewered his sword through its head. It froze, mouth gaped, and crumbled back to the ground. "Don't just stand there!"

"But...watch out!" Alfred panicked, and swept his leg forward and up in a traditional maneuver to get a rabid chicken far away as possible, catching a beast in its chest before its claws could gouge the Queen's back. "I-I don't have a weapon!"

"It doesn't matter! Punch! Kick! Don't go down without a fight!" Another beast dove to replace that one, and Alfred stiffened. He groaned in worry as it came closer, and jerked away as it jumped. Arthur hollered, and the chain grew tight. The sand-creature collided into the links, and burst into dust. "Idiot!" Arthur tossed over his shoulder with an irritated waggle of his sword. "Stop pulling in the opposite direction!"

"Augh! There's another one!"

"Of course there's another one!" Arthur threw up his weapon, catching onto the jaws of a beast. Alfred lunged, and awkwardly booted it with his foot. Arthur twisted, slicing his blade along its flank, and jammed his elbow into Alfred's side.

"Ow! Watch it!"

"Get out of my way!"

"But Yao said we have to work together-"

"You watch it, you fool!" Another beast down, just before it could tackle Alfred. It crumbled to dust, getting in his eyes. His arms flailed as he stumbled backwards at the sound of sand shifting, getting closer, closing in. He collided into a body, and by the angry yell, it was Arthur. Something hit the dirt. The chain grew tight. Alfred yelled as a sharp gust of air and sand flew in front of his nose as he just missed a sand-beast. He tripped over a leg, and tumbled.

Snarling. Shifting. It hurt to open his eyes. He dove on top of his Queen, clamping his arms around Arthur's head as the creatures poured on their position.

"Enough!"

Sand crumbled to the ground. Alfred scrubbed grit from his face and glanced around. The sand-beasts were gone, by the sound of it. Arthur sputtered, and smacked the sand, "Get off of me already!"

"Oh, geez! Sorry!"

Matthew came from a little ways, red-faced, curls frayed in different directions, and covered in sand. "What's up? Why'd we stop?"

They looked to Yao, who hunched against the railing and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. All right. That was your first time, so I should not have expected much."

Alfred asked, "Did we do good?"

Based on Arthur's huffing and his angry butt-flop onto the sand, the answer was derogatory.

Yao smacked the porch rails. "No! I've seen children last longer than that!"

"I knew it!" Arthur gave his leg a kick, and jabbed a finger at Alfred. "Useless!"

"Of course he's useless!" Yao snapped. "He has no lick of training under his belt yet!"

"Ugh!"

Alfred did not know if he should be offended. "So..."

Yao flicked his hands back into his sleeves, and his shoulders went down. "I wanted to gauge you first. To see where we should start." More calmly and to Matthew, "Once you got a foothold, you used an advantage of dodging for the creature's sheer numbers, to turn them on one another. However, you were too quick to separate from your team."

"Oh! I-I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry; work on it. Everyone will last longer if you all work together, believe it or not." The Jack's expression iced over as he zoned on the chained pair. "Alfred, while you had no weapons, you did not go down without a fight. However sloppy. Yet you let your panic guide you to your failure. Diving on your teammate to shield them was noble...even though that would result in both of your demises." Ignoring the indignant grunts and grumbles, Yao continued, "My Queen...learn to work with people! The battlefield is an ever-changing environment, and you must put away all past misdeeds and quarrels to get through this! You need to communicate with and follow your teammates without arguing. You must trust them!"

"Even if he leads us to our deaths?!"

"We will be working to make sure he doesn't do that. As part of the Royal Court, you have responsibility to oversee training. First hand, especially the King's!"

Arthur snorted and turned his face away.

"Now, the first step to battle is to learn how to even do it. You can't charge in there and hope for the best. You need to read the environment, seek what you can use to your advantage. This will put you ahead of your enemies, even if you have nothing to your name. And," Yao smiled to Alfred, "I'm sure this is what you're waiting for—we need to find a weapon and style to suit you and study, study, study!"

Alfred shot his hand in the air, "Does this mean I'm going to swing a sword around?"

"Yes. A wooden one."

"Oh. Huh?"

Arthur pushed himself to his feet with a deep grunt, "What, you think it'd be brilliant to pop steel in your novice hand and let you go at it?"

"Yeah, guess not."

"Over there, by the dummies," Yao pointed. "Wooden swords. I would like to gauge your swings."

Alfred unleashed a delighted holler, "Swords!"

Matthew agreed, "Hitting things!"

"Hopefully the dummies," Arthur grumbled. "Not actual people."

"These are pretty heavy for some sticks!"

Yao had come down from his surveying spot to note, "When we get to steel, you will be more familiar with the weight. Oh, and curb your strength. I imagine you can snap these things like toothpicks."

Arthur picked up his bound hand and jangled the shackles, "Well, I imagine it would be difficult to swing something proper like this."

Yao curtly shrugged as he turned away, "I cannot do anything about that." Arthur stuck an eyeful in his back. "It may be difficult, yes, but there's enough chain for it to be possible."

An obligatory roll of the eyes. Arthur stunted his legs in a certain way and readied his weapon almost perpendicular from the ground. Alfred did his best to copy, feeling a tad silly. Matthew prodded a different dummy with the point of his sword. "Um...I'm not really good at swinging things at other things. I like shooting."

"You'll learn," Yao said. Matthew's face soured, but he quickly smoothed that out as he copied the battle pose. "Hit the dummy. Go on, it won't retaliate."

The chained pair watched Matthew. His eyes flickered around before he swung.

"For real this time."

Matthew lunged and jabbed his weapon forward. He pulled back with a hiss, shaking his hand.

"You're not holding it right."

"I'm sorry-"

"No. Arthur, so he does not injure himself."

Matthew seemed too eager to step away and let the Queen step up to the plate, or dummy, in this instance. Arthur gave himself a curt nod and swung. A quick, neat swing. It had power behind it, yet he took it. The dummy swayed. He smirked, and held his sword arm up to Matthew, "Don't leave your arm so stiff. Don't be a limp noodle, either."

"Oh! Thanks!" Only Matthew could be called a limp noodle and seek improvement. He glared at his punching bag, reeled back, and swung. A solid hit. His shoulder bumped into the dummy.

"Much better!" Yao praised, "but watch your follow-up. You don't want to land a blow and stumble, leaving yourself open for retaliation."

Matthew glanced to Arthur's feet, and his face brightened as he stunted his own legs into place.

"Good, but don't glue yourself to the ground, either. You'll need to dodge and lunge as quick as your swings."

"Um..."

"Alfred," Yao suggested. "You try now."

Matthew tossed his brother an uneasy smile as he made room. Arthur made much more room with an overzealous step back. Alfred aimed at his dummy. Feet, legs, wrist in check. The sword felt funny in hand. He swung. A solid thump. A zing ran up his forearm. He looked to Yao.

"What are you looking at me like that? Keep going."

"But what if I break it? You said-"

"Don't. Channel your strength."

Alfred grunted, turning back to his training dummy. Stupid dummy. No breaking it. He swung like he wanted to toss a bale of hay. It didn't break. Wait. Again. He fixed his footing, imagining power coursing through his limbs. No breaking. Again.

"I-I think I got it!"

"Yes, if you were having a pillow fight."

"But you said not to break it!"

"You need to know how to hit something and do damage, but not that...that super damage."

Alfred threw his head back and groaned. He thought he was doing so good, too.

Yao suggested, "Try a series of swings. Quickly."

Alfred gave him a blank stare. "Like..." He vaguely wiggled his sword.

Yao did a simple two-motion maneuver.

Thunk! Thump! Matthew's bag trembled against his might. He picked up his head, beaming, "I-I think I did it!"

"Again!"

Matthew did, three times, his arms a blur. Alfred blinked at the sight of his brother digging his heel into the sand to spring and spin-hit his dummy. Matthew may have stumbled to the side afterwards, it sure looked awesome while he was doing it. Alfred snorted in amusement, "Show off." He didn't even know his brother could move that fast. Based on the wide-eyed, distant gaze Matthew had, he didn't know it either.

Yao praised, "Wonderful finishing move. That would be excellent in an one-on-one battle when you have room to do that. Again, we will work on how to keep our balance through the entire thing."

Matthew pointed his sword to the ground, getting sheepish. Yao motioned for Alfred to get ready.

Arthur had to sneak in, "Keep your swing to the dummy, dummy."

Alfred kept his gaze on his target. He could do this.

Yao prodded, "Go on, now, Alfred."

Whack! Thwap! Thunk! Alfred landed three solid hits, solid in his opinion. Slower than Matthew, but the power behind them dared anybody (Arthur) to say they weren't good enough. He glanced to Yao for reassurance. Not that he needed it.

Before Yao could say anything, Arthur stuck a knuckle to Alfred's shoulder, nudging him away. Without rude remark, he slashed at the dummy consecutively, then performed this up-and-over spin with an accompanying kick, just for further insult. Alfred felt his mouth pop open at the little smirk tossed his way.

Times like these reminded him why he came here in the first place.

"Well done, my Queen," Yao chuckled with a slow shake of the head. "As always." His voice dipped, "However, the battlefield is neither the time nor place to show off. Don't you know that? Doing so will get you killed!" Impervious to vile Queenly side-eyes, he continued with a tight-lipped smile and flourish of the hands, "Why don't you personally show Alfred how to balance his swings? Make him move more smoothly."

Alfred gripped his weapon tighter. He swore up and down (and side-to-side) he was already doing it right. A little huff, a little warning, before Arthur came closer. Too close. In a slow, dragged out motion, the Queen pressed against his back and adjusted his hands. Okay, okay, okay, no big deal. He was simply chest-to-back with him. That's all.

"Don't clutch onto it so tightly. You'll get a cramp at the wrong time. If you do it correctly..." Each syllable enunciated, and Arthur lifted Alfred's arms up, then motioned toward the dummy, "It won't go flying out of your hands."

"O-oh, okay," Alfred's voice came out small in comparison.

Arthur muttered into his ear, "This means nothing." He stepped back several unnecessary paces.

Alfred waited for him to swipe his palms over his shirt, like there were cooties all over him now. He didn't. "Thanks."

"No. Do it right."

Alfred rolled his eyes. He swung.

A scoff, "Are you fighting a pillow? Do it again. Harder this time!"

Again.

"I said! Harder, you idiot!"

Matthew clapped a hand over his mouth.

Alfred swung again.

"What's the sense in putting all your strength in one hit if you can't manage the follow up?!"

"I did!"

"Don't whine!" Arthur snapped. "You did not."

A growl actually came out of Alfred's throat. He threw his sword out. The dummy wobbled. He was doing everything right.

"Gods, I thought that maybe"—Alfred's jaw hurt from clenching it so much—"your swordsmanship would be a bit neater than your writing!"

"Argh!" Alfred spun on his heel, butted his hip into Arthur, and whipped the sword over his head.

Arthur ducked, of course.

Yao hollered, "Alfred!"

Arthur clamped his hands over his head, but once he realized nothing hit him, he sprung up to get right in Alfred's face, "You fucking idiot! What's wrong with you? What if you hit me?!"

'Good!' Almost tumbled from Alfred's mouth. He turned his head to stick his sword in the sand to distract his eyes for a moment, long enough to hold his own from the breath against his face. "What's wrong with you? Everything you say is rude or degrading. Can't you ever say something halfway decent in your life, or what, you'll explode or something?!"

Arthur snorted in his face, keeping steady, "Oh, great. Just what we need. A King with anger issues. If you can't handle criticism now, it will be a nightmare to face the Kingdom-"

Alfred shoved his shoulders, to get him away. Yet, as soon as it was done, and the Queen stumbled, an unpleasant flush ran up his neck. "I rather suck at everything I do than be a jerk like you if that's what it means to be so Mister Perfect all the time!"

"You're no good for the Kingdom!"

"You're not any better!"

"Excuse me?!"

Matthew took a step closer, holding his hands up, "Arthur, your highness-"

Arthur held a finger to him while pouring doom onto Alfred, "You don't even know what the fuck you are even talking about, so I would shut up right now, farmboy!"

Yao lolled his head to the side for a moment, soaking in the negative vibes rising from the sand pit, before straightening to warn, "All right, enough-"

Alfred took a step forward, looming over Arthur, "I know exactly what's going on here." Before Arthur could say anything, "You're making everything about yourself!"

"Oh, I'm-"

"You worry that I came to gobble everything up, but instead of telling me, you whine and complain about everything that's going to change. And it's going to change, Arthur, whether you like it or not. I'm not done talking yet! You always interrupt everyone else! You never even considered how this affects me! How your attitude affects everyone else around here and in the palace! Do you even understand what I'm going through?!"

"What you're going through?!"

"Your highness..."

Matthew took a step back. "Oh, boy."

"Yeah! What I'm going through. You blew up and threw in me in prison for three weeks"—Alfred made sure to hold up three fingers to be exact—"because you thought I was out to get you!"

"My roses!"

"Without letting me explain myself, and when Spades has an opportunity to have a King, you make it out to be all about you instead of helping and teaching me how to do things right! All you do is stand there and complain!"

"Stand there and complain?!" Arthur snarled, "You know nothing! Nothing I had to do to get here. Nothing that I had to and still have to do to keep this ungrateful Kingdom on its feet! By myself! You don't know the torment and stupid customs my family forced me through to be the perfect little Queen. I'm sick of people belittling my efforts!" Everything with Arthur was completely red. "Trying to rope me with a King because I'm apparently not doing enough for them when all I do is for the Kingdom!" He angrily swiped at his cheeks, and grunted, "I know it's not all about me, you ungrateful shite-head, so don't come here and act like a know-it-all!"

Alfred opened his mouth, but nothing came. Arthur poured hatred into his soul, and he could only stammer, "Th-that doesn't mean you should torture me the whole time!"

"Torture you?! Oh, please!" Arthur twisted around to toss his arms from his sides, declaring to the skies, "I can't even use the toilet without you being there! That's torture!"

"Enough!" Wind whipped through their hair, and the sand shifted, before bursting from the ground. The pair leaped away as spikes of iced-over sand reached for their faces. The chain grew taunt, and they gawked at one another with shock and fury. Yao shoved his hands back into his sleeves, marching over to the dummies, and spat, "Instead of competing who has it worse, you can turn that energy into something much more productive!"

Arthur threw his hands in the air before crossing his arms and turning away. Alfred couldn't bear the sight. Yao told Arthur's back, "Enough of the snide comments. Enough with the wallowing! Spades needs a King whether anybody likes it or not!"

Yao's furious golden eyes pivoted to Alfred. "And you!" Alfred jumped, holding up his hands in case the sand came for his throat again. "You're going to be a King. The King! People will pick you apart, flaw by flaw, and with the way you act now, you will be pulled apart by winter's end. Stop antagonizing and letting every little comment get to you. You're not perfect."

His voice eased, if a bit hoarse now, "Neither of you are perfect. Deal with it. Deal with each other. Deal with the Kingdom. There are people that need you two and your personal problem with each other means nothing in their eyes. It's your duty to put it away and work for what is best for the Kingdom. Your duty to have no problem with giving everything you have for the Kingdom."

Arthur tossed over his shoulder, "Are you done yet?"

Matthew pulled a face that begged, 'Yes, please be.'

Yao shook his head. Real slow. "Put your weapons away." His tone was dead. "That's enough for tonight."

~.~

Bzzt! Pzrbt!

Light flickered from the other side of the bed. Alfred pulled the covers closer to himself. Arthur kept sending sparks to their shackle, and he did not know if it was more annoying than offensive.

This was unnatural. Alfred wanted to press against Arthur's back and smell the roses. However, a pillow to the face for about five seconds could ease the clench in his jaw. He just yelled and got reamed by the man. His stomach clenched under very conflicting feelings.

Alfred did not know what to say. He did not know if he should say something. Arthur would probably just sneer and dig and twist his poor feelings some more when they were already a mangled ball.

"Do you want me to regret ever coming here, Arthur?"

The zapping stopped.

Alfred, without turning over, prodded, "Do you think that would make things better? For us?" He had to keep at a whisper, so the tightness in his throat did not do anything funny to his voice, "For the Kingdom?"

No reply.

"Or do you do it to take your frustrations out on someone? To let off steam?"

Shuffling. Alfred risked a peek over his shoulder. Arthur still had his back to him, keeping his face toward the double doors leading to the balcony.

"Okay, I'm not going to play guessing games all right. Whatever the reason you hate my guts, can we like, not show it to the Kingdom? Yao's kind of right in that sense. Hate me behind closed doors, but we got a Kingdom to run. A Queen needs a King just as much as a King needs a Queen. Who would want to do that on their own?"

Arthur did, apparently. Perhaps not because he wanted to, but that he felt the need that he had to, that he was letting himself and his stupid stubborn pride down otherwise.

With that, Alfred tossed himself over, putting his back to Arthur once more.

~.~

The next morning, they walked shackle-in-shackle to the main room as maids frantically laid out breakfast plates. No words passed in the bed, in the bath tub, or on their way downstairs. It was tempting to break the silence, but Alfred wondered how long they both could go on.

The silence made him feel worse than cow dung, and cow dung was extremely stinky. Apologies to be give, apologies to be given, but they both kept their mouths shut. Maybe the Queen found a luke-warm spot in that heart of his to be a little guilty. It would be fair, as it chewed Alfred's insides like a hungry, hungry caterpillar going to town on a leaf.

Alfred held up a hand to a particular guy lugging a vat of warm maple syrup, "Whoa! Precious cargo! Take your time! My stomach will still be here!"

Matthew flashed a grateful smile from the other end of the table and stood up, arms out.

They did a quick hug. "Hey, what's up? How'd you sleep?"

"Great!" Matthew scratched his cheek, "Actually, I passed out in the corner of the library, books as my blanket."

Alfred shook his head, chuckling to himself as he plopped into a chair. "You and those damned books."

"Hey!" Snatching a piece of venison bacon, Matthew settled in the adjacent chair. Life coursed into Alfred's mood as he appreciated his brother's excited little bounce. "You would never know what kind of stuff I found out in there. Did you know that there was a Joker that kept coming to Spades, and the King loved him so much, he took him in as his Jack?! His utmost advisor!"

"Wow, really?!" Alfred amped up the awesome. "That's crazy!"

Arthur had not sat down yet. "Excuse me," his voice was sharp, an edge that hinted of the venom curdling beneath, "that is not where I usually sit." He pointed, like Alfred couldn't see, "The Royals sit at the head of the table."

A shrug. Alfred considered ignoring him, but a much better quip popped up, "Looks like I'm not a Royal yet, so..."

Matthew straightened with a long draw of air through his nose.

"You can't pick and choose when you want to be a King or not."

He was interrupting Alfred's chewing on a particularly mouth-watering piece of bacon. "But you can?"

Arthur's voice spiked, spewing poison, "Oh, for fuck's sake!" A maid clutched her empty platter closer to herself and backed away. Arthur yanked out a chair, fumbling with it, before plopping his bony butt down. "Have you looked for books on how to get this thing off yet, Matthew?"

"Y-yes, I have." Matthew let out an uneasy laugh. It died in two seconds flat. "That's how I got a hold of some interesting stuff about the Jacks."

"I'm not looking for interesting stuff about the Jacks. I want to get this damn shackle off my wrist already."

"Yes, sir. I'll work on it after breakfast." Matthew glanced to Alfred, and rolled his eyes.

Alfred almost laughed, but gave his brother a much stealthier reassuring grin. "It'd be kind of weird to have a Jack as a funny guy, though. I thought Jacks need to see Royal connections. Jokers can't do that, can they?"

"Eh, I don't think so, but actually, there's not that much lore on them. They're really mysterious. And mischievous. I don't think that King cared all that much, anyway."

"Yeah. Looks like we're not the only ones that came from low beginnings."

Matthew softly protested, "I don't think Jokers are that low. Like I said, they're a mystery. Maybe there's a legit reason for their antics. Maybe that's how they get power."

Alfred mused his brother's geeky mutterings, "Ha, maybe." A newcomer joined the main room, and he jerked his chin, "Hey, speaking of which! What's up, Yao?"

Yao slowed, furrowing his eyebrows as he glanced between the empty chairs at the head of the table, to the Queen fuming with his head in hand. "Is there something in the bacon?"

"Ha! Delicious and more deliousness!"

Matthew murmured, "I'm not sure that's a word."

"Ha-ha! What's on the agenda today, old man?"

Yao sputtered, "Did you just..." He let out a sharp sigh as he flicked some food on his plate before falling into a chair. "Fine, I guess I'm old." Flipping back to Jack-Man, "What do you think would be the best course of plan for today? Is there anything in particular you wanted to work on?"

Alfred waved a syrup-drowned fork in the air, contemplating, "Not that I wanted to work on it, but taxes. Ugh. You got to show me how to do those. There's too many lines on those things."

Matthew put in, "I'd love to spar again, later on, if you don't mind."

Yao's eyes shone, "Both are wonderful ideas." To Arthur, "Your highness, is there anything you had in mind?"

"No."

Blink.

Alfred stuck his fist on the table, making another maid jump, but she smiled it away. "I want to shoot things today!"

"Yeah!" Matthew jabbed his elbow into his brother's arm. "Although I'll kick your ass in that."

"Ha, yeah, I know!"