"THIS GAME IS STUPID, LETS PLAY BLACKJACK!"
"But Alfred, I'm winning" the brit said with a chuckle. The American across from him was currently only wearing his underwear, shaking in embarrassment, or anger, Arthur couldn't tell. He had just learned the basics but it seems he is a natural at 'strip poker'. The fuming prince hummed in frustration, pulling his clothes on.
"Hey!" the brit shouted, grabbing the collar of the shirt to prevent the other from putting it on. "I took that off of you fair and square! It's not my fault you're a sore loser!" he pulled it off and, along with the rest of the clothes, placed it behind him where it was safe.
"Artie~~! I dun wanna play this game anymore!"
"Proper English please, I beg of you" the brit huffed, pinching the other's cheek playfully. Arthur was currently fully dressed in his night gown, not having lost anything except a friendship bracelet Elizabeta had given him. Speaking of Elizabeta, he hadn't seen her since the accident. She had explained to him that she had thought he was being raped, and that she had to save him, one way or another.
Try as he might, he couldn't be upset.
She was only looking out for him so he only hoped that the American could find it in his heart to pardon her. Maybe he should bring it up now, while the mood was right.
"Alfred?"
"No"
What!? But he had no idea what he was going to say. "Why not, do you even know what I was gonna ask?" the American hummed and glared at him as slowly approached him, no longer looking embarrassed but rather offended. He had no reason to be upset, so the attitude was really unnecessary.
"It's about Elizabeta, is it not?" he said with certainty. It wasn't a question; it was more like an accusation in question format. He reached around the brit and took his clothes, huffing as he put them away. Arthur blushed as he nodded, making eye contact with the prince.
"She thought I was getting raped, so she- "
"So she ASSAULTED me!" the prince raised his voice momentarily, visibly calming himself as he continued. "I don't care what she thought was going on, but NO ONE will ever disrespect me like that. She will NOT be pardoned, no matter what you say." He walked over to the bed and settled down on it, blowing out the candle on the nightstand.
"Alfred!" Arthur could not believe what he was hearing; was Alfred really going to punish his best friend? "She was trying to protect me! She thought she was doing the right thing; it's one big misunderstanding, I swear!" He approached the bed and sat by the American's legs. He didn't even know where the Hungarian was right now, perhaps there is this protocol, this procedure that they took when events like this happen.
"She hit me, the future king of America, with a dirty frying pan, and proceeded to scold me about treating a mate the right way. Which I am perfectly fine at- "
"Good mates don't kill off their mate's best friends" the prince fell silent at that and just huffed again, turning away angrily. Arthur, pissing him off won't help Liz, he needed another approach.
"Well, what if you were in Liz's shoes? If you heard me shouting stop and heard a struggle, wouldn't you have come to save me? What if you're at your coronation, and I'm being sexually harassed by one of your knights, wouldn't you want someone to help me without second thought? Elizabeta would, she would save me, and then feed me and make me feel better and make me feel safe. How could she if you killed her!" maybe the hypothetical scenarios will get to him, appeal to his more "Alfie, she has a husband and a pair of kids, you can't take her away from them." The brit continued, now caressing the American's knees. "She has so much love and kindness to offer the world- "
The Englishman was interrupted by sudden hysterical laughter erupting from the American. Someone's life was on the line; how could he be laughing? Life isn't a joke, and Elizabeta's life certainly wasn't a joke.
"Oh, Artie~~~" Alfred said through pants as he sat up, setting the candle alight once more. Arthur could see the apathy in his eyes, and the cold blue orbs stared at him with pure amusement. "'She has so much love to offer' oh god Arthur you crack me up! She is living in a fortress as a maid in this shithole of a country, she has absolutely nothing to offer the world!"
"Alfred!"
"'What would you have done?' Well, honestly, when I busted into the room to kick some ass, I would briefly assess. If a man was dabbing you with, let's say, a rag then I would put the fucking weapon down. If it was indeed rape, I would proceed accordingly." His eyes were tired, but they held this odd glow in them that the brit had never seen before. It was warning him to drop it, but he couldn't possibly give up on his friend. "She is a menace- "
"Alfred, she- "
"NO LET ME FINISH!" he was yelling now, and he looked pissed. Why was he so worked up?! The brit couldn't help but flinch away in mild fear, eyes widening in shock. He didn't think the American would hurt him, even if he was this mad, but just to be safe he moved out of arms reach. "Just because she's your best friend, it doesn't mean she could get away with what she had done. You may not be as familiar with the world, but every action has a consequence- "
"But why should there be a consequence for this one!? She thought she was doing the right thing!" tears were now gathering in his eyes as he yelled back. The conversation had quickly begun to be a screaming match.
"THERE HASN'T BEEN A SINGLE RAPE IN THIS CASTLE! WHY THE HELL SHOULD SHE BE WORRIED ABOUT SOMEONE ATTACKING YOU LIKE THAT!? I HAD MADE IT VERY CLEAR TO EVERYONE THAT YOU WERENT TO BE TOUCHED! She knew that... she knew that..." The prince sighed in frustration. "Why are you crying?"
"Because" Arthur was sobbing, the tears having fell in the middle of the other's rant. "You're so cruel. How are you just going to kill her like that? She has a family and friends- "
"Yeah, and I have a nation, and knights who need to respect me and the last thing I need to show is weakness!" He swung his legs over the bed and sat awkwardly next to the Englishman. When he tried to touch him, Arthur would begin to pull away, marching into the bathroom and slamming the door. "Arthur!"
Arthur ignored the calls and washed his face, sick to his stomach. Is it all about power to him? Is compassion too much to ask? The calls were getting way more aggressive and louder, but he had faith in Alfred's sanity to be almost certain that he was safe from physical harm. Emotional harm? Too late.
The blond was shaking and sniffling, breathing heavily to hold back his sobs.
"ARTHUR!"
He began to whimper. His instinct were telling him to return to Alfred; to return to his alpha. He couldn't stay in the bathroom all night, but he had never seen Alfred like this. He didn't want to admit it but he was scared. He took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom to find a pacing American with his hands in his hair. The prince glared at Arthur so heatedly that the brit found himself looking down, not wanting to offend the man further.
"Alfred I am... sorry" he felt so anxious, but when he saw the other approach, he had to fight the urge move back. He was enveloped in a hug, a warm hug by his powerful alpha that instantly made him feel better. His distinctive smell brought him to his happy place, and it always did without fail.
"Don't apologize, I'm being too harsh on you."
Arthur didn't like displeasing Alfred, not only for the sole fact that he is terrifying, but also because he had a twisting feeling in his gut whenever he did. It was just his omega instinct.
"I... I don't need to kill her..." he whispered lightly, causing the Englishman to look up at him, hope in his eyes. "I don't think I was planning on killing her... but I'm torn at the moment..." he trailed off, his voice husky, closing his eyes. Arthur stared at him patiently, sniffling as he waited. If liz had to be punished, maybe it could be mild.
"Maybe... make her clean the dungeons forever?" he suggested. It wasn't that bad, but according to the other maids, the dungeons were awful to clean. Alfred opened his eyes at the idea, and glanced down at the brit slowly.
"I'm thinking more along the lines of exile or deportation."
"What!?" Arthur tried to tear away from the other, but Alfred's grp was too tight. "You can't send her away! Alfred, her life is here!" He was crying again, but it was muffled as the American pulled him into his chest. He gripped his shirt for dear life, begging and pleading. "Please Alfred, don't send her away! Where would she go!? Don't do this, I apologize on her behalf!"
"Arthur don't- "
The brit wasn't going to let his friend go because of a silly mistake. "Alfred, you can't just send her away, not alone. Her kids are three years old and Roderich needs to care for them! If she goes... then I'm going too." Arthur could see the rage in the prince's eyes, furious at the man in front of him.
"NO YOU AREN'T!" he shouted back, pulling away from the brit. The Englishman walked over to his dresser and pulled out the large sack he came with. It had been a while since he needed it, but it was still in good condition. He threw pants and shirts in the sack, much to Alfred's protest. He only stopped when he felt the other grab his wrist, tight enough to almost break it.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, Alfred, get off! You're hurting me, let go!" his voice was hoarse, he was losing his voice. Alfred grabbed the sack away and tossed it, grabbing the brit's other hand with his free one.
"Please don't go!" he pleaded. He no longer looked as angry, and Arthur could see a hint of fear. "I love you so much, you can't leave me!"
"I don't want to go, but Liz can't go by herself! England is a dangerous place now..." Looking into the American's eyes, the omega felt an intense wave of doubt move through his body. He loved Liz, but he loved Alfred more, he didn't know if he could do it.
But Alfred didn't know that.
"Where would the two of you go?! Like you said, England is a dangerous place... Arthur you can't be serious. You're my mate, do you really want to leave me?" the prince's eyes were wet and red, his face distressed and pained. Arthur had nowhere to go, but he knew who to look for.
Dylan, he would take them in, he was always the kindest of his brothers.
Arthur buried his face into the prince's chest and breathed, trying to calm down. This escalated to the point where the brit was just about ready to give up, that twisting feeling in his gut returning. His alpha was in pain, and it was his fault. Smelling the odor he loves so much, he knew in his heart that he could never leave Alfred, and that was the painful part.
"Arthur, please don't go..." the prince whispered into his hair.
Arthur was weak, and he hated himself as he nodded. "Okay, okay I'll stay."
They held each other tightly as if the world were ending. None moved from their spot, just clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. Finally, Alfred lifted the brit up in his arms and returned to the bed. As they settled in their spots, Arthur positioned his head over the American's heart and sighed at his failure. They were cuddling, but it wasn't the same as usual, it was more desperate now. Alfred needed to be assured that the brit wasn't leaving him, Arthur could tell by how fast his heart was beating.
"I'm sorry, Alfred. I didn't mean to scare you. I-I don't k-know what I was thinking."
"It's okay, it's not your fault you're so kind. I-I just... please, don't do that to me again. I think I'll have a heart attack." He said with a chuckle, kissing the Englishman passionately. "Please don't leave me" he kissed the other again, and Arthur could feel his heart swell. The Englishman smiled and chuckled too, kissing back softly.
"I love you too... I'm not going, I'm not leaving." He yawned snuggling up to the prince even closer. "I think I'm gonna sleep, I don't care if I have another nightmare." His eyes were heavy, and the melodic beat of his mate's heart was nice and slow, relaxing enough to put him asleep.
Sleep came faster than he expected, and the last thing the brit saw was the prince reaching over him to blow out the candle for the 4th time that night.
Arthur paced the bedroom as Alfred got ready in the bathroom, dressing up for today's trial. The brit looked at himself in the full length mirror, playing with his outfit. It was a rich royal blue tunic to match those of the prince. It was fitted around his waist and trimmed at the bottom so he wouldn't trip. They removed the padding around the breast area too, leaving Arthur to wonder who owned the dress before him.
"Artie, how do I look?"
The American turned in a circle to give Arthur a full view, but even at any angle, he looked perfect. The prince walked to his dresser and opened the first one, taking a shiny golden object out. It had tiny diamonds and sapphires and rubies all over it, and the light bounced off of each precious stone beautifully as the prince placed it on his head. The crown was beautiful on its own, but on Alfred it looked a thousand times better. Arthur put two finger in his mouth and whistled, causing the other to roll his eyes. Arthur returned to gazing at the mirror, and didn't react when the American wrapped his arms around his waist. He ran his finger through his own hair and sighed, not looking forward for the day.
Elizabeta was to be sentenced today, but hopefully Alfred would heed to the brit's begging. "Alfred, I'm not going to break out into tears at this hearing, am I?" the brit chuckled softly, gazing at the other's reflection. Alfred's goofy grin dropped, and it was replaced with a sheepish smile.
"It depends on how emotional you are; I would never do it on purpose."
And with that, there was a knock on the door, signaling that it was time for the hearing to begin. Arthur took one more deep breath and looped his arm around the other's, linking their elbows. They walked, regally through the halls, which were filled by handfuls of maids, watching in awe and jealousy.
Yes, Arthur knew they were jealous; it was impossible for them to be that cold to him once word got out about Arthur's relationship by coincidence. However, Alfred, didn't say anything so he probably didn't notice. There's no reason to cause strife.
In no time they reached the large wooden doors of the great hall where the trial will take place. Arthur could already hear the voices from the inside, causing his nerves to flare up. He straightened his back and held his head high as two guards pulled the doors open. The brit couldn't help but flinch when the trumpets began to blare, and the Harold began to yell in a deep voice, telling everyone to stand in the presence of the ruler. There was shuffling as people stood, and the trumpets began to play some music instead of just a jumble of notes.
"Artie, you ready?" the prince took a step forward, not even waiting for the brit to answer. The answer would have been along the lines of 'No, you bloody tosser! Do I look ready!'. However, Arthur maintained his façade of confidence as they walked pass the people, actually, down an aisle. The great hall's tables were repositioned to the edges of the hall, and there were rows of seats where the knights would watch the trial.
They were all dressed properly for a change, all wearing rather regal clothing. As the Englishman looked around, his eyes met the desperate violet eyes of Roderich. They were full of fear, and they were looking at the brit in such a way that the message was clear. Arthur nodded slightly, showing his support and cooperation. As they approached the throne, Arthur's eyes widened in shock.
There were two thrones now, not one.
They were beautiful and grand, and also very large. As they walked up the small steps leading to the chairs, the trumpets stop blowing, signaling that they should sit down soon. Arthur took the smaller of the two thrones, on the left, and sat carefully to make sure the dress wasn't wrinkled. Alfred took the seat beside him and hummed loudly enough that the people all took their seats.
The Harold with the deep voice walked up to the steps leading to the throne and bowed down humbly, greeting the two. "Good day, your highness... -es. Today we have one trial, concerning the terrible incident that happened yesterday. Are you alright, by the way?" He had a thick mustache that connected to his beard, which connected to his sideburns, which connected to a thick mane of black hair wavy hair. He was a stocky man, and his eyes were a soft hazel, the brit could tell. He had this father-like vibe about him, the sincerity of his voice when he asked the prince about his health contributed to that.
"I'm fine, John. I just want to get this over with." The prince said with a wave of his hand. Guess he doesn't like the affection. John cleared his throat and turned around to face the rest of the people, and spoke loudly enough that he could be heard from the other side of the room, perhaps even through the door.
"BRING IN THE PRISONER!"
The large wooden double doors burst open to reveal two fully armored knights manhandling a woman with light brown hair, and olive green eyes. She was struggling quite a bit, but luckily not enough to cause the two knights to call for back up. They eventually got her down the aisle before the prince lost patience, tossing her onto the floor in a bowing position.
When the knights returned to their place by the door, the Hungarian remained on the floor, visibly shaking. She lost all her bravery, it seemed, and the trial hadn't even begun yet. The harold scolded her lightly, telling her it was enough and that she stood stand up and explain herself. She remained on the floor however, ignoring every word.
"Rise" the prince said with a stern voice. Arthur could hear his annoyance, but only a person who knew the prince personally would be able to tell. To the brit's surprise, he saw the herald shift nervously away from the Hungarian, eyeing the prince warily. Did he notice too?
The fearful woman in question stood up, quaking and keeping her eyes low. The Englishman felt the strings of his heart pull, the image of his care free friend being replaced by the one before him; scuffed up, dirty, and just overall terrified. Arthur glanced at the prince, looking for any sign of intent. If a guy was planning to take revenge, it would be all over his face, right? However, the face of the prince beside him was neutral, absolutely blank and unreadable. Arthur sighed aloud.
"Elizabeta, are you alright?" Arthur said without thinking, holding his breath once he realized. The Hungarian just looked so sad... However, she was now looking at the brit with terrified pleading eyes. The woman began to breath heavily, and nodded quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. Arthur nodded, speaking softly to the Hungarian. "Okay, okay. Why don't you tell prince Alfred what you told me? He'll understand it much better if it came from you." The desperate woman nodded again, and opened her eyes again, looking down at the floor.
"Your highness..." she started, but by the thickness of her voice, she sounded close to tears. The American hummed in acknowledgement, and the brit encouraged her to continue. "That day, that day when you told me to look after Arthur, I swore to you that I would. And by swearing... I took on the responsibility of feeding him and making him feel more at home..."
"Yes, you did." The prince said thoughtfully, nodding.
"But that also meant that I would have to monitor him, and talk to him... how can I do that, without creating this connection? This affection that a mother would have with her child, and as a mother of two, I am familiar with that feeling. Over the past few weeks, I have come to love your mate as one of your own children, so when I thought he was in danger, I didn't care nor think of the consequences of my actions."
The Englishman felt his eyes water at the kind words, and he couldn't fight the smile on his lips.
"I thought you were hurting him, and you told me to look after him at one point. I thought I was doing just that! I swear! I've seen the two of you together, I've never seen a couple so stubbornly in love before. It's clear how much you mean to each other, so I thought, maybe, I was helping you too, but stopping you from crossing a line that you can't uncross. I honestly just wanted to help and protect Arthur, my little tart."
At least that's what Arthur wished she had said. But it went a little more like this.
"But, I didn't know it was you in the room! All I heard was "Stop!" and "Just swallow"!" Arthur's eyes widened in confusion. Was she actually lying? "I only knew it was Arthur in the room because of his awful accent! You, no offense, sound like any other knight. What you and your mate do isn't any of my business, but I thought if Pendragon was violated by a random knight, you would blame me!" She looked heartbroken as she spoke, but Arthur couldn't tell if she was crying for show, or if she felt guilty.
"You wouldn't have saved him if it were me attempting to rape him?" Alfred sounded even, but Arthur didn't dare look at him. He kept his eyes on Elizabeta, his round shocked eyes slowly narrowing into a glare. What if she wasn't lying? What if it was all a lie?
"Like I said" she said evenly, making eye contact with the brit. She didn't blink and she didn't look away as she continued. "What you do with your mate, is none of my business. You're his alpha, it's his job as an omega to please you anyway! If he refused to do hid duty, I wouldn't blame you for taking what was yours" she was no longer shaking, and she looked far more comfortable. Was it perhaps because she thought she was telling the prince what she wanted to do?
"You can ask any of the maids!" she quickly added. "I never really had any real attachment with Pendragon, I would cook and clean for him, and occasionally act like his friend, but that's all it was. Just an act! You look like any other man from behind so when I struck you I had no idea that it was you. I was really trying to stay out of trouble by trying to save Arthur, but it was clear that I was mistaken."
"Is that so?" Alfred asked slowly. Elizabeta nodded earnestly.
"I apologize with all of my heart for wounding you, but I do not apologize for taking the chore you assigned to me very seriously."
The whole room was silent, and Arthur was perhaps, moments away from tears. She didn't sound like she was lying, in fact, she sounded just as convincing as she had when they spoke over the prince's body. However, if he cried now, her story would somehow be validated to the people of the court. He took a deep breath and straightened himself out, despite a piece of his heart shattering.
She was his first real friend; how could she do this?
"Elizabeta, you know, that really conflicts with what Arthur thought you said" Alfred noted, eyeing her with a slight smile. Elizabeta shook her head, glaring at the brit.
"Arthur loves you, and when someone sees someone they love in such a state that you were in, they don't pay good attention to their surroundings. He must have misinterpreted what I was saying, which was about how I thought a knight was attacking him. He must've thought I said 'your knight' which I often, embarrassingly enough, refer to you as when I'm forced into ridiculous conversations with him."
The prince began to hum, eyeing the Hungarian and the Englishman back and forth. Finally, he spoke.
"Well, that makes so much more sense. But you said I can ask anyone, so... you!" he pointed at a random maid. "What kinds of stuff does Elizabeta say about Arthur Pendragon?" the maid, the girl who served them breakfast the day before, walked up to the front of the alter, eyeing the Hungarian incredulously. She hesitated, glancing at the brit, before speaking.
"Uh, well..." her voice was nasally and strands of brown hair was falling on her face. "She once said that Mr. Kirkland loved the clothes she got him, and when I asked her what kinds, she said the ones that the common whore omega would wear. She then said it suited him... She also once told me and a few others that when you found him out in the cold forest, she cried for an hour because she thought she was finally going to get her freedom away from him and have time to spend with her kids. She said that she really wanted him to go missing, like his brother."
But she quickly added "That's what she said though, I have never, not even once, agreed with her. Or laugh more importantly." She looked down and said in a much lower voice. "Those jokes were rather harsh and tasteless."
Arthur forced himself into a smile, blinking faster to try and hide his tears. He eventually just lifted his gloved hands and, as discreetly as possible, dabbed the tears from his lashes. That proved useless though, considering that all eyes were on him. Did they expect him to do something?
"Thank you Madeline" the brit said breathlessly, now staring at his hands. How could he be so foolish? He had only met her a month ago, why was he so invested? The brunette scurried off into the crowd, leaving the Hungarian up there alone.
"Okay, then I guess I've made my decision. Elizabeta... I appreciate your honesty, and your dedication to your tasks. I'm not one to hold a grudge, so I'll give you 2 years of dungeon duty." A sigh was released from the crowd, tension and angst leaving their bodies. Roderich ran out from the crowd and ran up to his wife, hugging her and swinging her around. Their two children soon followed, bouncing and cheering, spreading joy around the hall.
"THAT IS...!" the prince yelled to get everyone's attention. When they were all quiet, he continued. "That is if Arthur is okay with that." He placed a hand on the brit's forearm and shook lightly, making the Englishman look up at him. Arthur could tell by the flash of worry on the other's face that his eyes were red and that his cheeks were pink.
"What?"
"I asked, do you think she deserves a different punishment, like deportation or something?"
"Um... I don't care really." She said softly as he glanced at Elizabeta. She wouldn't make eye contact with him, instead she was gripping her children with her dear life. Roderich looked up at the Brit with worried eyes, eyes that seemed to apologize for everything the Hungarian had said. Arthur weighted the options in his head.
He had cried last night, for the woman, even briefly contemplating leaving with her if she were to be deported. He described her as loving, and kind, but now he wasn't so sure. She had said awful things about him, and even prodded at his omega status and the situation of his brother. She knew how he would feel, how much it would hurt him. She described their friendship as an act, a chore, something she was tasked to do. And it made do much sense now; a real friendship couldn't blossom so quick.
All she really cared about was the job, and her family. The way she held on to those kids and her husband silently as if she were praying. She played him like a fool, and now would be his chance to return the favor. But... he doesn't have it in him. He took a heavy breath and sighed loudly, looking down at the Hungarian with angry eyes, his blood suddenly boiling. Just because their friendship wasn't real to her, doesn't mean it wasn't real to him.
"I... I think that dungeon duty is just fine"
