"Wow, look! We got angry letters in here from, uh, five...six...twenty-seven years ago! I'm not even that old!"

"All right, young man, how about we focus on today's angry letters?" Yao plucked an envelope off of the Royal Desk and expertly peeled it open. "Ah, something about..." One side of his mouth sagged, deepening a wrinkle on his face. "Oh, this again?"

Alfred walked to the desk, easing the tautness of the shackles, as Arthur rooted himself in a chair and refused to follow him around the room. "What happened?"

Yao tossed the letter on the desk before picking up another one. "Some fishermen keep complaining about an old statue that fell and broke into pieces in their lake. Ah, this-"

"Wait, wait!" Alfred flopped into the Royal Chair and snatched the fishermen's letter. It was printed, not in cursive, for starters, and they had tried to be kind before, but apparently, their complaints have been ignored. "Hey, I know these guys! They taught Mattie and I how to fish!"

"You recognize them just like that?"

"It's a small world down there," Alfred grinned. "Besides, they're like, the best guys in the valley. Everybody knows 'em." He flipped the letter over and over, "Wow, I can't believe it. They're here! I'm here!"

"Tell me, then, young man. There are plenty of other fishing spots all over the Kingdom. What has warranted attention from the palace to investigate a lake in the lower district?"

Alfred danced in his seat and licked his lips, words tumbling, "Yao, this is the biggest freshwater source in the lower district. Everything else is saltwater! Some people can't get to or won't eat saltwater seafood! I remember they closed off the paths to the lake because too much debris and junk got into the man-made filtration system, and nobody could get in there and clean it out!"

"Yes, yes, that is true. The name of the lake does seem familiar..."

"They don't have the proper equipment to get the gunk out and open the lake again! Please, Yao!" Alfred flicked a forefinger and thumb to the fishermen's letter, "I can finally do something to help them! We can bring back freshwater fishing to Spades! It'll create jobs, especially to those who lost their livelihood."

Yao paged through the other envelopes on the desk. "I am not certain, Alfred. There are plenty of other things that we must put our minds and funds toward."

"Like what?"

Arthur blanched, "Don't cock an attitude with Yao just because he shot you down!"

Keeping big blue pleading eyes on the Jack, Alfred said, "Out of curiosity."

Yao brightened with a little smile. "Of course. I will tell you. Winter is coming. Oil needs to be delivered. Pipes need to be secured so they don't bust. Our Knights need heavier gear for the colder weather. Just a fraction of the necessary preparations around here, let alone the rest of our citizens. If the Kingdom is unprepared, we will not make it through our harshest season. People will get hurt, frostbitten, and even die. We must look after them when they cannot look after themselves." He concluded, "A lake will freeze, and be useless until springtime, anyway."

Alfred grinned, "Ever hear of ice-water fishing?" He gave his head a shake. "Kidding. I..." He sighed, nodding to the mental list of to-dos they had to do at the farm before the chill settled in. "We need to make sure winter preparations are underway, but Yao, when it gets warmer, I would like to add that to our summer preparations."

"A wonderful idea, sir," Yao beamed, and Alfred could not help a flush of joy. "We will set aside funds for it after winter's end."

"I'd also like to write these guys a letter. To tell them this, so we can acknowledge their problem."

"I am certain they would love to hear it from you, Alfred."

Alfred already had some of it in mind, 'Hey, guys, remember Matthew and me? You'd never believe it, but I'm the King of Spades now! Well, trying to become the King, but I have some amazing news, besides me being the King...!'

Yao broke his plotting, "Perhaps, just for this instance, we'll send a letter in print."

Alfred beamed, "You know how them peasants act around cursive! Woo! Makes their eyes go all wonky!"

Arthur grumbled, "Those peasants. 'Them peasants.' Gods..."

Yao playfully tsked before rummaging through the rest of their mail. Alfred resisted the urge to glance over and smile at Arthur. The Queen probably had a pissy scowl on his otherwise porcelain face. "Hm? A letter from King Ludwig of Hearts?"

"No way!" Alfred plucked the pink envelope from Yao's hand. Real fancy, loopy cursive dotted the addresses, and it had all kinds of pastel ink and stamps over it. An actual postage from another King!

Yao reached over and flicked Alfred on the forehead before snatching the goods. "Do not ever take something out of my hands like that again, young man," he warned with a smile. "It is very rude."

Alfred bounced in his seat, giving his forehead a tender rub. "Sorry, Yao." Unable to help himself, "What'd this King say? Does he have grievances with us, too?"

"I would certainly hope not!" Yao split the letter open in a single swoop. "The Queen of Hearts was born and raised here in Spades. Hm, we were always by each other's side. Our Kingdoms are...closer than...ever..." The distant gaze in his eyes sharpened as they poured over the paper.

Arthur grunted, leaning forward in his seat, "What, Yao?"

"Ah, there's nothing grievous, I assure you, my Queen. It's...King Ludwig is just noting that there will be a Meeting of the Kings at the end of next season."

Alfred gasped in excitement, going as far to clap his hands. Arthur, however, was a storm of doom and gloom as he shot to his feet, "No! I cannot go like this! Are you kidding?"

"Your highness, it's more than several months away. Things may be different."

"They may cancel it."

"You could have the chain off."

Alfred looked up, but the Queen collapsed into his seat with a deep sigh. "Awful. Absolutely awful news."

"Wait, what's so bad?"

Yao noted with an eye on Arthur warbling into his palm, "The King's Meet has always been stressful on Arthur. The journey down the mountain is bad enough, but the...attendees are all but welcoming on a Kingless Kingdom. A Queen's Kingdom, if you will."

"But I'm here now! It'll be great! We can show them Spades won't take their muck!" Alfred threw out his fists in rapid succession, "One, two!"

A low voice to his side, "You'll make a complete fool out of us."

Alfred scrunched his face, keeping an eye on the Jack.

"If the meeting were at this moment," Yao agreed, "yes, but Alfred is adept at learning and picking things up rather quickly. By the end of next season, he should pass as somebody working to be an eligible King."

Arthur slung his other leg over his knee, angling from said King-to-be as he jerked his head to the wall. "Should be."

"I will," Alfred promised Yao. "Tell me all about the other Kings, and whatever etiquette and stuff I have to do when I'm there."

"It is good you are taking initiative."

"Hmph."

"Is there an issue with that, your highness?"

"No. I suppose I'll just sit and chat over a nice cuppa with the other Queens while the big boys solve all our Kingdom's problems."

Alfred stared at Yao, begging for him to see what he had to deal with. Yao gave a curt nod and took in a deep breath. "My Queen," he started carefully. "The others sit back and let things happen because they simply do not want to take part of it or feel as if they are incapable of handling such intricacies. You have proven both of these wrong. Perhaps you can show these Kings as well."

"Don't you think I tried that? They won't listen. What's the point?"

"What if you had one of them by your side?"

When Arthur finally turned his head in Alfred's direction, his heart almost soared right up to the ceiling. "I don't know. We'll have to see."

Alfred tried to keep disappointment off his face. "How about we go outside?" It felt funny to talk. He stood up to stretch his legs, and to distract eyes, "Y'know, to get some fresh air. Spar a little."

"I do not want to spar right now."

To the wall, Alfred babbled, "I know Mattie was hyped up about showing off his archery skills again."

Arthur tossed his hands in the air, "He's been ignoring me for days!"

Yao glanced between the chained pair, seemingly unfazed, but the furrow of his brows and sly smile creeping up his face should mean he was confused...and perhaps entertained? "Alfred, is there a reason for this?"

"What's the sense?" Alfred said, still keeping his eyes distant. "He's just going to berate me and point out everything I do, and could possibly do, wrong. Can't we just go?"

"A nice change of scenery could clear our minds," Yao offered. "I'll get Matthew. Meet us by the rear doors." He seemed to eager to step out of the Royal Office.

Alfred let out a light sigh. His shoulders felt achy. Hopefully getting a move on will fix that. Arthur did not budge. "We going?"

"I don't even know what to say to you right now."

"Good," Alfred rattled their chain. "Don't, 'cause if you say anything, it'll be rude and condescending."

Arthur shot to his feet, yanking on the shackle as he stomped around the Royal Desk. Enough said. "You didn't have to come here in the first place! You didn't have to bother me!"

Words ran up Alfred's throat, and he clamped his teeth together to keep them back. At least, keep back their force, but they came out more sad than he expected, "You don't have to be an asshole."

"Aw, did I hurt your little feelings, farm boy?"

Temptation to shove Arthur down the steps plagued Alfred's fingertips. Just a teeny nudge, really. "Things could have gone a whole lot smoother." Oh, great, contagious sneering.

One they touched ground, Arthur smacked the back of Alfred's head. "Stop arguing with me, nitwit."

Alfred jabbed his elbow into the Arthur's ribs. "Stop hitting me, would you?!"

"Ai-yah!" Yao called out with Matthew at his side, "Fighting again?! I was gone for five seconds!"

Matthew shook his head. Shame, shame. He didn't even need to say it.

Heat clawed Alfred's ears.

Yao looked furious, but kept the force back, "Nice to ruin a productive morning, you two. Must you bicker like children? Have you never grown up, Alfred? Are you making up for lost youth, my Queen? You two try to pin the blame on another, who has it worse, who's doomed to destroy the Kingdom." A quick breath, and Yao's face washed an impressive pink. "I did not want to have to pull this, but have you ever thought what I have to deal with?! Not one, not the other, I worry that the Kingdom will fail from both of your foolish prides and absolutely unnecessary refusal to cooperate!"

Matthew appeared to nearly have soiled himself. He ducked his head, taking a quiet step away from everybody. Alfred and Arthur just stood there, avoiding eyes as Yao slowly lifted an arm to point at the doors. "Get out there and hit each other with sticks."

Alfred chuckled, "Uh, what?"

"If that's what it takes for you two let it all out. If you think putting your frustrations on each other will fix your problems, then go!"

Arthur scoffed. "Yao."

"No. Go."

Alfred nudged Arthur, jerking his head to the exit. "Let's just go."

Arthur gave Yao a funny look before following.

Yao muttered to Matthew, or himself, "Maybe they will knock each other out and give me a few moments of peace!"

Alfred's throat hurt in thickness as he and Arthur hurried to the sand pit. They grabbed wooden swords from the rack, and when Alfred glanced to Arthur, Arthur glanced to him, and they both averted their eyes. Yao snuffled by, to the overseeing balcony, "Use any weapon of choice. Grab a horse carriage and throw it. Why would I care?"

Alfred tapped his forehead before calling after him, "Seriously, Yao? Now you're acting like this, too?"

Yao neatly spun around, making the bottom of his robes graze the sand. "Why shouldn't I? Everyone else is doing it!" He glanced to Matthew, and put on a honeyed smile. "Besides you. If your brother dies today, you get to be the King."

Alfred sputtered, "Yao!"

Matthew sent them a wide-eyed apologetic look before scurrying up the porch steps.

They stuck with the wooden swords, finally and silently agreeing on something. Alfred shuffled the toes of his boot in the sand, and eventually lifted his weapon. "Uh, I'm not looking to kill you or anything."

Arthur copied his gesture, and almost lightheartedly, "Yao's being dramatic. I never wanted you to die in the first place. Not right away, at least. Although you could use a few blows to the head."

"A few more blows, you mean?"

Yao shouted across the pit, "Let's go! Starting swinging at each other!"

"Um..." Alfred's heart started to bang around, totally not in a happy way as Arthur did not move, becoming a statue. He tapped his sword to his shoulder.

Arthur reacted. A swing. Alfred's arm tossed from himself. He backed away. Arthur came forth again in a calm, fluid movement. Alfred recovered, throwing his weapon against Arthur's, with no time to deflect. Just taking it in. He was starting easy.

Hey, turns out, Alfred did a lot better job taking it then giving it!

...wait.

That did not come out right.

Catching Arthur's blows was not that hard.

That didn't sound better.

Arthur lashed. Alfred deflected. Better.

They got heavier, although a teeny bit slower, Alfred had to recover from their building force, rather than their speed.

Another swing. Despite his mouth set in a thin, concentrated line, brows furrowed, an excited spark shown in the Queen's eyes. Alfred was captured. He flinched as another whoosh passed his ear. He grunted as reflecting that one pinched his wrist. Another. Alfred pushed back on this one and had enough of a second to swipe at Arthur's throat. Arthur stumbled before twisting and righting himself. Like a dance. A smile crept up one side of Alfred's face as they circled around each other. Words felt unnecessary...and kind of difficult as they panted under a coating of sand.

Yao clutched onto the balcony railing, intensely observing. It crept Alfred out. Matthew flapped his arms. Alfred tried to keep his focus on Arthur. His brother furiously shook his hands, mouthing something. Alfred mashed his eyebrows together. Matthew mouthed again and spelled something in the air.

'L-O-S-E!'

Wait, is he trying to call Alfred a loser? His own brother?

Arthur leaped, almost clipping Alfred in the face. Alfred jerked away, feeling heavy as he lifted his sword defensively in front of himself. His arm trembled. His fingers cramped already. He felt and probably looked a lot more winded than Arthur did. Something glimpsed across Arthur's face. His swings were just as stubborn as his personality. Alfred wanted him to knock it off already with that stupid smirk, but couldn't get an opening to deal with it. No openings on the outside, and no openings on the inside.

Another attack. Up, over. Alfred ducked, about to raise his arm to catch it, but lurched forward at the last second. He flung himself forward. Air flew out of his lungs, and they stumbled. Arthur hit the ground, legs in the air and all. He still had a firm grip on his sword.

"Ha!" Alfred couldn't believe it. Arthur spat, and that happy pink on his face morphed into a brilliant red as he jumped to his feet. Yao hollered for them to get a move on. Alfred wouldn't hit Arthur while he was down. Plus, that was a nice two seconds to breathe.

Arthur groped his side, and Alfred thought he hurt him, but that attractive grin shifted into murderous intent. Alfred backed away for good measure, tugging on the chain. A flutter of blue-gray fabric, and Arthur shook his jacket. The seam along the left arm had ripped open.

Arthur threw his now tattered jacket in Alfred's direction, making him twitch, and charged, sword pointing to his shoulder. Alfred may have squealed and ducked. The Queen tripped and tumbled over him, collapsing into the sand.

Alfred shot up, stumbling away. Matthew had a desperate hand clutching his hair while the other one shook. 'Lose! Lose!'

Matthew straightened, playing cool as Yao furrowed his eyebrows at him.

Arthur found his feet again, wooden point digging a divot into the sand. "Fight somewhat normally, you twat."

Oh, guess who liked not losing. Alfred tipped his head, smiling, but too winded to say anything. The Knights and prissy Royals probably fought in a 'You swing, I swing, keep your backs straight' kind of way. Nobody fought like a farm boy versus a rabid chicken.

Peck, peck, peck! Rabid Chicken's feathers got all ruffled. Keeping his focus low, and swinging right, Chicken will be misbalanced. Arthur spat un-Queenly on the dirt, before unleashing an enraged snarl. Still, as much as it seemed like his anger would bleed into his moves and turn careless, it never did. He struck with the precision of a deadly viper, and Alfred had to keep his attention just as sharp or else he would get bit. A short, breathless laugh escaped his chapped lips. This made Arthur even more irritated. A rough, messy swing. There it is! Alfred haphazardly dodged, but Arthur leaped forward, driving his shoulder into Alfred's stomach.

Oh, never mind.

Alfred just stumbled into the pig pit.

Matthew mouthed, 'Lose!'

A satisfied glint in the Queen's eye.

Oh.

Oh, so if Alfred lost, Arthur would be happy. If Alfred bested him, then the rest of his life would be haunted with vengeful green eyes. Yep. Life was being this cruel to him.

He was the one charging into Royal Life. Arthur reacted accordingly, crude and panicked. Definitely overboard, but Alfred was an outside force. He needed to show he was not a threat. This is what Yao meant; if one of them would let go of their pride, then the fighting would stop. And it did. During his mere second fall, he shuffled through five planes of existence.

In reality, he had been pouring over this in his mind for weeks now.

Alfred flailed his arms a bit dramatically, before falling through and let his back hit the sand.

Arthur pounced. Alfred choked back a surprised gasp as there was a body on top of his, knees digging into his shoulders, and a wooden sword poised to his neck. Well, if this is where it gets him, Alfred would crumple his pride in a ball and throw it down the mountainside. Arthur leaned forward, like his smarmy grin shielding the sun from Alfred's eyes was an act of mercy. Alfred shivered in delight as they panted so close to each other. "I could slay you right here. Right now. Cut off your hand and be free of you."

But he didn't. Not with a wooden sword. Alfred found himself smiling in relief, amongst other happy feelings. "You may be the biggest asshole in all of Spades...Arthur, but I still think you're dead-sexy."

Arthur tapped the point of his sword to Alfred's cheek before pushing himself from the ground. He looked to Yao and raised his arm in the air. Yao announced, "By combat, Queen Arthur is victorious."

Alfred propped himself by his elbows, basking in the Queen's backside. Wow, so duking it out 'to the death' did let off a lot of steam. He pondered of other things that could also let off steam.

Matthew leaned to Yao, whispering, "What'd you think would have happened?"

"If Alfred hadn't stayed down, they'd wind up knocking each other out. Your brother has no fighting experience, but Arthur has never fought a man with such power. Alfred was certainly holding himself back. I think they both were, in some ways." Yao observed Arthur holding out a hand, without looking Alfred in the eye. "Interesting, disappointing, and it makes me a bit hopeful for their future all at the same time."

Alfred clapped their palms together and hoisted himself to his feet. He grinned down Arthur who gave him a long, sided glance before curtly shrugging. Arthur let go first, tucking his arms together with the wooden sword pinched against his side.

As much as it did let off steam, Alfred did not want to make a habit to attempt murder at every argument.

But Arthur smiling at him...that would be a habit he would never want to kick.

~.~

"I think we did really great out there."

Sounds of a bath brush scrubbed against skin.

Alfred glanced away from peeking at Arthur lifting a leg out of the tub. "I mean, compared to the first time we tried to fight those sand-things, if we fought somebody like we did today, I think we could show them who's boss!"

Arthur whispered as he gave his foot a good scrub, "I'm the boss."

Alfred grinned, welcoming himself to turn around and wash Arthur's backside. The bath brush immediately swung at his fingers, but he jerked away in time. "You missed a spot."

"I did not."

"Yeah, 'cause I got it for you."

"I know you fell on purpose."

"Huh?"

"When I hit your stomach. Usually people double over, forwards. Not stumble backwards and swing their arms like a goofball and fall on their arses."

Alfred swiveled his face away, in case Arthur eyed him in suspicion. "You were just that awesome."

Quiet again.

For a moment, until Arthur said, "I'm not going to apologize for the first time we met. You were a peasant sneaking into Spadian Royal Grounds. For being a pest, disrupting the peace, and the destruction of my beautiful garden, that is a sentence to the dungeon for an indefinite amount of time."

Alfred defaulted to a smile as he remembered scaling a mountainside for his naïve heart. "Those boots you were wearing that day...they looked amazing on you."

"That aside, you wind up taking to the throne. A farm boy to King. Hmph. Mother would have a fit if she ever heard of that. Especially from her...most prized Prince." Less scathing, Arthur continued, "All that power going into a peasant's hands. Gods, what will happen? What will he do with it? Is it going to go his mind? Can he handle it? Who is going to get hurt? I haven't had proper sleep even since we've been chained together."

"We don't know for sure that'll happen, but that doesn't mean it will. I'll definitely be trying not to lose my mind."

Sharply, "I know that."

"Sorry."

Genuine and hushed, "Thank you. But you're right, Alfred. Relish in it, if you will. I can no longer live my life on what if's. The best we can do is prepare, be diligent, and be ready to deal with it if the time comes."

Alfred beamed, letting his eyes close to the steam of their bath and listened to Arthur's low, reverberating voice, "I believe...that these past several weeks have lifted a greater weight from my shoulders than I could ever know." Then, a little sour, "Yao told me about that. It seems like Queens can live without a King, but they're susceptible to...build up, if you want to call it that. The stress of all that pent-up power without anybody to claim it, well, it's unfortunate it took me that long to realize, yeah?"

Alfred glanced to his wrist. The shackle was still there. He swallowed, wondering if Arthur expected him to say anything. "Don't be so hard on yourself. When I was trying to uh...when I came up here to, uh..."

Arthur teased, "Make me happy, even just for a moment?"

"Heh. Yeah." Alfred turned to slouch against Arthur's back. Arthur did not pull away. "It never even crossed my mind to be King. I saw the thrones, one with you in it, and the other one was empty. I wanted it. Not to rule or anything, but just to be at your side, if you needed anything."

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh." Alfred lifted a hand out of the water to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I guess I was thinking I would just be there. Not really doing anything."

That got a quiet chuckle from Arthur. Alfred's eyebrows shot up when he leaned back a little, too, squishing their warm backsides together. "It's...rather nice...if we're a bit more honest with one another."

"Yeah. Quite."

"Dreadfully embarrassing, though."

"Ha. Yeah."

Arthur jerked away, breaking out of the bath water. "Up. Come on, now, I'm finished."

Alfred blinked, coming to terms with it and trying to motivate himself to come out as well. "Me, too. Thanks for asking."

"I don't remember asking...peasant."

"Forgive me...Queen Jerk."

"Hmph."

Being close like that made all those thoughts of pressing against Arthur and getting jiggy with it plague Alfred's mind all over again. He had to go back to pretending that every move Arthur made did not make his heart jump like it had fleas. Or if it was a big flea itself. Alfred started to dig at his head. They grabbed towels from the rack and started to scrub themselves. Alfred stopped itching and started to tingle as he focused on keeping his eyes on his own business. Movement. Bare skin. Nope, not looking. Arthur moved in a way that Alfred could not help but glance over. "Hey!" He clapped his towel in front of himself. "You told me not to look!"

"Oh, please." Arthur rolled his eyes as he turned away, enticing Alfred to follow the droplets of water down his back. "I'm the Queen. I'm allowed to look all I want."

"Come on!"

In the same tone, "Come on!"

Alfred grunted as heat from something else than the bathwater slapped his face, and he wound his towel tighter against himself before waddling after. Arthur stopped before one of his dressers. Yeah, the Queen of Spades had more than one dresser. Wow. He tipped his head to the side, not exactly bothering to eye the so-called peasant, and let his towel drop. Alfred automatically glanced to a much less interesting wall. "What are you dawdling for? Get some trousers on! I want to go to bed."

Sometimes it felt like Alfred was scaling a mountain, other times, it felt like he was tumbling down a valley with his emotions.

Once nightgowns were in place (it had to take a little magic to get around the shackle), Arthur plucked Alfred's towel from the floor and tossed it. "Make sure your hair is somewhat dry this time. I would hate for my pillow to get soaked again."

Maybe that meant he would be fine with Alfred sneaking against him for once.

Maybe...

Alfred wiggled into Arthur's side of the bed, and slowly lifted an arm up, and over-

Arthur promptly slapped his hand.

Alfred jerked away, wondering how he knew.

"Onto your own side of the bed, you fool."

Slowly reaching (and not learning his lesson), Alfred reached out to touch the thin silk of Arthur's night robe draped to his skin-

Arthur smacked him away again.

Out again.

Smack.

A little slower.

Smack!

Alfred sank his teeth into his lip, and raised a finger, but did not reach out again.

Arthur's hand swatted, catching himself on the side.

Alfred let loose a cackle way too noisily for the time of night, "Why are you hitting yourself, Queen Arthur?"

Arthur sent a vile side-eye over his shoulder before pulling the covers over himself like that would protect him from the monsters under the bed...and Alfred's hands. "Because you're making me go mad."

"Like, in the same way you make me go crazy?"

A quiet moment. "Go to sleep already."

Alfred eased back, smiling at the ceiling. He wanted to press against Arthur's backside, to hold and breathe him in while they slept. Not tonight, though. Hopefully one day soon.