11:30 am
Arthur sat down in the corner of his room, panting, internally screaming. This can't be happening! This can't be happening! He looked down at his hands again, staring at the yellow piece of parchment that he found under his bed when he woke up. It was a letter addressed to him. One he thought he would never get.
Dear Arthur,
I am not sure how to tell you this, but, we're alive. All three of us, Dylan, Allister, and Seamus, are alive. Dylan told me about the encounter in the woods, how you were left for dead. I don't know why you are in the American Fortress, but we won't let you suffer anymore.
Where is Peter? Our scouts cannot find him. Is he working in the dungeons? Is he working in the kitchens? Is he dead? When we come, we will retrieve both you and Peter, and finish what we started. These Americans believe they can run rampant and hunt us down like cattle, but we won't let that happen anymore.
That fortress is going down.
I know you have a million questions you want to ask us, and all will be answered in person, for now I want you to reacquaint yourself with our informant. We won't mention their name, but they will come and talk to you at noon. Be willing.
We will retrieve you both in a fortnight, no later than that. We expect you both to be ready for the journey to a neighboring city. Pack lightly and tell no one, our informant will keep tabs on you to make sure you're doing alright.
Until we meet again, your brother,
Allister
This short letter was enough to have the brit feel a ball drop into the center of his core. He had no idea who the informant was, or how he had managed to slip into the room and leave the letter, but Arthur was going to request 24-hour security. Alfred wouldn't hesitate to comply, as long as there was a valid reason.
But, how is Arthur going to explain this. That his brothers were still alive, and the brit had seen at least one of them?! Alfred would feel beyond betrayed, angry, and hurt. Who knows how he would react? He could get violent, though not with Arthur, but with someone else, someone who probably didn't deserve it. However, Arthur knew better than to keep this a secret from the American, it would only cause trouble later on.
The Englishman wiped the tears from his cheeks. The ones he hardly remembers falling. He sniffled as he stood up, ready to tell his findings to the prince, who was currently in the study. He folded the letter up and shoved it in his pocket, not caring to reseal it. He went to the bathroom to wash his face, so the maids wouldn't stop him on his way and ask him what was wrong. He looked at himself in the mirror, judging his appearance.
His eyes were still red, the space under his eyes puffy. His hair was disheveled; his nose was red along with his cheeks. He didn't look so good, but he didn't look bad and that's all that's matters.
He left the bathroom, approaching the door. His hand was just about to twist the handle when a soft knock broke the silence. Arthur pulled open the door, gasping as he was pushed back harshly. He landed with a hard thud on the ground, crying out as the door was slammed shut. The brit shut his eyes, crawling away from his attacker. He screamed as he did so, but he knew that since the door was closed, most of the sounds would be muffled anyway.
"Arthur! Shut up for a second! It's me!"
Arthur stopped yelling, eyes narrowing as he panted. His blood boiling, he turned his head around and glared at the woman behind him. Elizabeta stared at him with bright eyes, expression equally as pissed.
"Are you trying to get us killed, or are you just stupid, Kirkland?" Arthur flinched at the sound of his real last name, staring back at the Hungarian with shock. She knows? The brit stared at her, not saying a word. Is she going to tell everyone? The Hungarian smiled.
"I'm not going to tell Alfred, if that's what you're worried about." She said cockily, with a smug smile. Arthur had half a mind to tell her that he already knew, anything to get that confident look off of her face, however, he decided to about this smarter.
"You're the mole, huh?" Arthur asked, not waiting for her to answer. "How long have you been working for my brother?" He asked condescendingly. She walked past the brit and sat on his side of the bed, staring at her nails.
"When I was thrown into the dungeons. Allister was the voice who told me to lie during the trial." She said bluntly. Arthur gritted his teeth.
"How did he get in?" There was long pause, an awkward shift in the atmosphere. Well?
"I don't know." She said simply. Arthur frowned, knowing full well that she was lying.
"So what now? What do you want from me?" Arthur asked, he still didn't know the point of this meeting. Elizabeta looked up at him and frowned, not quite understanding. "What do you want?" He asked again. Elizabeta eyed him curiously.
"Did you read the letter?" She asked back, unsure of the question the other was asking. Arthur nodded. "Well, then you should know." Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes and sighing.
"You know damn well I don't want to leave! I love Alfred and I'm not leaving for anyone! You can tell that to your little boss the next time you see him, okay?" He said angrily in a shill voice. Elizabeta looked at him uncertainly.
"I don't know if you have a choice, Arthur. Your brother seems hell bent. He had already started raising a militia and he is probably arming them as we speak." She said. "I don't know where he's getting the supplies from, though. Maybe another country?" She said with a shrug.
Arthur was equally baffled, but he knew there was only one answer to his problem. "We need to tell Alfred. He may be able to pardon you if you help us get information on the assault." Arthur said, a little confident in what he was saying. Alfred, before anything else, was strategic, so he knew better than to let this opportunity die.
"He's your brother" The Hungarian said with a crossed expression, a little unbelieving in what Arthur was saying. "You would betray him so easily, I'm a little surprised." She said honestly, and Arthur felt his cheeks flush. What does she know!?
"I have been suffering underground for 3 years, and he hadn't done a thing to help me! But now that has gotten word that I'm living happily with Alfred he's suddenly worried. Tell that man that he could shove his little escape plan up his arse. I don't want anything to do with it!" He said with a huff, getting up and heading towards the door.
"Wait!" She said, but Arthur was already out of the door, walking down the halls to find the prince.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
Arthur fumbled around nervously through the pages of a random book as Alfred read over the letter. Alfred began reading the letter about 5 minutes ago, so it was obvious that he had read a multitude of times. After what seemed like forever, the prince glanced up at him, with a little frown before clearing his voice.
"Arthur, why were you fussing over this? What is this anyway?" He asked confused and slightly annoyed. Arthur blinked at him equally as confused. What? Why was he fussing? What was it? What does he mean what is this?
"Can't you read!? It's written in plain English!" The brit whined, slamming the book in his hand closed. Alfred stared at him with narrow eyes as he looked back down at the letter, then back at Arthur, and back at the letter again. He began to hum, shaking his head, he still didn't get it. "Are you playing stupid? This isn't a joke Alfred; someone is trying to attack the castle!"
"What!?" Alfred said, dropping the letter on his desk and fumbling through his desk drawers. The brit watched as he put on his 'special' glasses, ones he rarely uses anymore because he thought it made him look ridiculous. He was right, the round bifocals were at least 2 inches in diameter, and bright red, so it made him look quite comical. It even now, even with his grim face. However, Arthur had no idea why he was wearing it, he could read it just fine.
"Are you done, you need to tell the others!" the brit pleaded. "He raising a small militia and he's trying to kidnap me!" He explained. Alfred sighed frustratingly. He glared at the brit, clenching his jaw to muffle his growl. Was he angry now? Arthur stopped talking, looking at the American warily, who had quickly composed himself.
"Arthur, all I see are shapes and symbols! I can't fucking understand it, fucking tell me what's going on!" He pleaded. He sounded confused and distressed, not liking this weird shit. Arthur approached him quickly, picking up the letter.
"All I see is English!" he spat. He glanced down at the American who glowered at him again. Arthur turned back to the letter and squinted, unsure of what was going on. To his shock, the blurrier his vision got, the more shapes he saw. "Oh shit! It's from them!" Those weird magic people. He thought it was a dream, what the fuck is going on?
"From who?" Alfred asked. "Read it to me."
"Ok" Arthur said with a sigh.
~~~Wounded Knight~~~
Alfred stared at the brit blankly for a few minutes, comprehending what he had just heard. Arthur hadn't moved an inch, still with arms reach of the prince. Arthur didn't make eye contact, just avoiding the other's gaze wildly. "Alfred..."
"Don't!" He barked, shocking the other. "Don't say anything anymore! Why are you always the bringer of bad news!?" He snapped, catching the brit off guard. Arthur bit his lips shut so he wouldn't say anything. When Alfred throws a tantrum, it's better to let him have his way. "Why didn't you tell me your brothers were alive?! What encounter in the woods?!"
Arthur whimpered a little before answering. "I only found out that all of them were alive because of the letter." He explained. "The encounter in the woods happened when I got lost while looking for you. I was dying of hypothermia when I ran into Dylan, and then I passed out. When I woke up and you guys told me that I was deep in the forest, I had a feeling that he was the one who took me that far. He was probably trying to take me to his home base." He said honestly. Alfred looked at him blankly as he stood up, pacing the room.
"Who's the mole?" He asked. He was met with silence, for Arthur didn't know if outing Elizabeta so suddenly would work in his favor. "Who is it!" the American growled. The brit swallowed harshly.
"It's Liz. But don't worry, I think you could use her to your advantage." Arthur said quietly. Alfred squinted at him for a while.
"Liz?" he asked, looking at the brit with an exasperated face. "Liz as in Elizabeta?! She's the fucKING MOLE. WHEN DID SHE BECOME THE MOLE?! SHE'S BEEN LIVING AT THE FORTRESS FOR 3 MONTHS!" The American was yelling loudly, approaching the brit angrily. Arthur stepped back, terrified. He thought Alfred was bad the night before the trial, but this was escalating quickly, and the Englishman had a feeling this time would be worse.
"Alfred I... I didn't know she was the mole until this morning!" He squeaked out as the American grabbed him by his arms. "She told me that they met in the dungeons while she was awaiting trial. Allister was the one who told her to lie in court." He confessed, trembling as he did so. Alfred stared at him coldly before releasing him.
"Allister? Is he a red head?" He asked, somewhat calm. Arthur nodded. "Then he was probably the one who ambushed me, and killed my father, huh?" He asked again, pinching the bridge of his nose. The glasses were still on his face, so the prince took it off, placing it on his desk. Arthur didn't know what to say to that.
"Uh..." He started, but didn't finish. He just looked down, his tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. His brother had killed Alfred's father. He is the bringer of bad news. He brought his hands up to cover his mouth as a way to silence his rigid breathing. He sniffled silently as the prince opened the door, ordering two guards to call in Elizabeta, and to initiate a lockdown.
"Well," The prince said, in his normal monotone voice. "We're sealing every opening in this place, and we won't leave this castle until the boats are ready. Nobody crosses me twice and lives." He said rather darkly, approaching the brit for the umpteenth time. "And nobody is going to take you away from me." He opened his arms and Arthur ran into them, so glad that this argument didn't last nearly as long as it could have.
Arthur was also grateful that the prince wasn't angry at him. Alfred's personality could come off as a bit harsh when they weren't on friendly terms. Their embrace was interrupted by a harsh knock. The prince opened the door to reveal a disheveled Hungarian woman, who looked as if she was hiding underneath a nest.
"This maid was hiding the courtyard bushes. She appeared to be escaping." Alfred nodded and thanked them sending the guards away. The second the door closed, the American grabbed the maid by the hair and dragged her into the center of the study. Arthur watched in mild discomfort. The woman was then flung onto her back with a hard thud, the towering over her with a hateful look.
"Where were you going?" The Hungarian looked away, closing her eyes and ignoring his question. He slammed his foot on her left wrist, which was outstretched due to the fall. She howled in pain as he continued to apply pressure on it, sending pangs of guilt through the brit, who was standing by watching idly.
"Alfred, perhaps you should try more peaceful ways of interrogation." The brit suggested, from a safe distance. The prince ignored him and continued to press forward.
"You have betrayed the United States of America, and for that you will suffer greatly." He spat. "Your little twins, they're goners. They won't see the light of day ever again. You want to feed information to savages, I'll grind them up myself and feed them to my hounds! How does that sound!?" He growled. Elizabeta screamed.
"PLEASE! Please don't hurt my children! They're innocent!" she begged through her pain. Arthur knew that the prince was lying, he knew that the twins were in no danger, but a part of him was still repulsed by the threat.
"Nothing coming out of you can be innocent! Your husband will watch as I kill your fucking kids and I'll have him be the one to set your body on fire, you fucking dirty no good lying bitch! Then, when you're all dead and gone, I'll tie your precious husband to four horses and have them pull him apart! No one will ever make the same mistake you have!" He barked, removing his foot from her wrist only to kick her in the ribs.
"ALFRED THAT'S ENOUGH!" Arthur commanded, grabbing the prince by his hand and pulling away. "Don't say such terrible things, and don't ever hit a woman like that!" He scolded, turning to Elizabeta and trying to sit her up. She winced when he touched her waist but she accepted his help gratefully.
"Liz" Arthur said softly, once he had seated her on the couch. She looked at him with expectant eyes. "Where were you going? You should have known it would have been a horrible idea to try and escape." He waited about 30 seconds before she decided to answer.
"I was going to leave a letter for your brother telling him that you didn't want to go. I was forced to hide when the guards called my name." She said finally. Arthur nodded in understanding.
"Liz, do you mind playing along for us?" He asked rather bluntly, not knowing how else to ask it. "Perhaps give us the letters he gives you, feed him false information about us." Liz looked at him with fearful eyes before shaking it wildly. That's when Alfred jumped in.
"Hinder him, in return for your family's safety." He said bluntly, grabbing the brit by the arm and yanking him away. Arthur winced as he was dragged, but he clung onto his alpha anyway, allowing himself to be enveloped by the other's large arms, which wrapped protectively around him. "I mean it, Elizabeta." He said finally. The Hungarian nodded.
"Alright" she said softly. "I'll rewrite the letter the way you want me to... that way you'll trust me." She sounded uncertain, but the brit couldn't blame her. Being a double agent didn't seem too easy.
Arthur left the room once Elizabeta and Alfred began working on the letter, glad that this dispute was in better hands. The brit had a feeling that if he had tried to settle things himself it would've ended in bloodshed and him on the back of wagon heading towards home base. Whatever home base was.
Perhaps it was their old family farm, or that farm Arthur had seen in his dream. Well, not dream, considering that it was indeed real. The letter was written in a different language, on that the brit could only translate, meaning that what he read in that... vision? Other dimension? Well, whatever it was, it meant that the letter was at least a little bit truthful. He was magical.
But how magical?
Did it stop at translation? Or could it reach to casting spells? Arthur, oddly enough, wasn't afraid. He was quite intrigued. This could be really fun, having magic. Perhaps he could fly away from his problems now. He laughed at his own joke, ignoring the confused stares. He walked back to his chambers, closing the doors behind him.
What should he do? He looked at the clock. It was a little past noon, so he pretty much had the whole day. Margaret is busy, and Davie is in the greenhouse so he would be too. The knight was probably with Geoffrey, in that cold insolated room. Arthur smirked, making up his mind. He's going to spend the day with Geoffrey.
~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~
"Why not~!" Arthur whined, frustrated. He and Davie have been going at it for at least 5 minutes. "I'm great with kids, I'll feed him whenever he gets hungry and I promise I'll change his diapers." He pleaded. Davie, to the brit's surprise, was very protective over the infant, a child he only had for a few hours. Davie stared at him skeptically with his deep indigo eyes, clutching the baby, who was cooing, against his chest.
"You don't know how to care for an infant, I think it'll be best if he stays with me." He said softly. Arthur pouted, flashing the knight a sad glance. Davie bit his lip, an empathetic look gracing his features. He sighed grumpily. "Why don't you hang out with Maggie?"
"Who?" Arthur said absent-mindedly, trying to figure who to spend the day with. Davie repeated himself.
"Margaret? Madeline Margaret Shelley? Your BFF? You know who I'm talking about, Artie. Why do you wanna hang out with Geoffrey all of a sudden?" Arthur looked at him curiously. Why did he want to spend the day with an infant? Geoffrey was cute, but... was there a deeper reason?
"I don't know" he said finally. "Alfred's busy, Maggie's busy, you're busy, and I figured the only other person who I can actually be myself around is Geoffrey. He's a baby, so there is no way he could reject me." Arthur said with a soft chuckle. He sounded pathetic, but he was pathetic, so he didn't feel so down about himself.
"Arthur, you could watch Geoffrey for a few hours while I work, but you have to stay in your bed chamber." He ordered with an exasperated sigh. Arthur beamed at him as he went to retrieve the green eyed infant, who was wrapped in a heavy black shawl. Davie, to Arthur's surprise, kissed the baby on the head before passing him on to the brit.
The baby was light as he buried himself into the Englishmen's neck. He had brown hair, and his skin was very pale. However, not sickly, which made the brit very happy. The brit spoke to the baby in a squeaky voice, patting Davie on the shoulder with his free hand. "Thank You" he said simply as he used the baby's hand to wave. Davie waved back, a relaxed smile on his face.
"Be careful, okay?" He said rather than asked. "Don't leave him alone, and make sure he stays warm." He said, turning over to his work bench, getting ready to continue his work. The green flower petals from yesterday were now soaking in a plastic dish filled with water. Davie waved them off, telling the pair that he would get there sometime before dinner.
~~~Wounded Knight~~~
2 hours later...
Geoffrey was laying down on Arthur's chest as he was reading, keeping each other company. The infant was sleeping, so the soft rise and falls of his chest were the reminders of his presence. Arthur was reading a book about witches in the history of England. To say the least, their fates were grim.
They were burned to the stake, or forced to escape, leaving everything behind. According to the book, the last official witch sighting in England was about 1100 AD, and that woman, a widowed and orphaned alpha, was Athena Kirkland, who was sentenced after her coven unleashed demons onto a small village. Apparently, the church had to send at a dozen priests to exorcise the place, before burning down the coven's headquarters. Most of the members burned alive, leaving only Athena Kirkland, the leader, alive.
The book also said that she had a sister, Daphne Kirkland, a discarded omega, who was assumed to be burned alive with the rest of the coven. However, there were a few accounts from farmers and priests claiming that a young woman of long, wild blond hair was seen fleeing the fire with a child. The Kirkland sisters were known around town for their wild blond locks, so it was a reasonable guess. They searched for her, but after a year of no clues, they discontinued the search, presuming her dead. Arthur frowned.
Well, he was related to her in some way, he just wished there was more information on her. And that child she was with. He would like to think that she met a nice man who didn't care about her past relationships, and she fell in love and had kids, who had kids, who had kids, who also had kids, who had Arthur's father, Uther, who had him. He smiled at the thought. However, 200 years is a long time, and he was certain there were some discrepancies in his family line.
He sighed heavily. He wished he had some more answers. Maybe those magical group members who locked him in a barn in his 'dream' had some answers, but he didn't want to interact with any of them, in case they were in allegiance with his brothers.
His brothers.
Arthur closed his eyes. He tried to avoid thinking of them as to avoid getting a headache. His brothers were still alive, yet Arthur hardly held any kinship towards them after all of his suffering. He can't blame them for not knowing he was alive, seeing that he thought they were alive, however, he really didn't want them to come back. They were better off dead in his eyes, seeing that American forces would wipe them out in a minute. Their father, Uther Kirkland, was such a strong leader, a wise strategist. He would never do anything as brash as send in a militia against a nation as strong as the U.S, especially if he had no supplies. Where were they going to get it form? Were they going to pull it out of thin air? Arthur paused for a moment.
Could they?
They were probably magic too, now that Arthur thought about it. They could very well have magic! Very strong magic! They could have known practiced for years. Looking back, it would explain the bizarre victories Arthur's father had against the U.S during the first stages of war. It was only when the American brought their new technologies that the English's momentum dropped. They were probably caught off guard. And now that the brits have gotten used to U.S technology, chances are they had developed some technique to defend against it.
They were coming in a fortnight, there was nothing Arthur could do. He couldn't tell Alfred, he wouldn't believe in magic, in fact, he would just be annoyed. Arthur knew full well he couldn't handle it himself. He was at a loss for words.
Perhaps he was just overthinking things. Perhaps their magic wasn't as strong as he thought, perhaps...
"Perhaps what?"
Arthur screamed, waking the child on his chest. The brit clutched the baby and pulled him to his chest, scooting back against the headboard. The room was dim, but Arthur could make out that man in front of him a stranger to the castle. The figure was lean, the hair on his head a wild mop of red curls. Nose slightly pointed, face dusted with freckles, gigantic eyebrows... Was he who he thought it was?
Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by a strong gush of wind coming from his left. He glanced over quickly, double taking as he saw two more men standing by the window. Did they come in through the window? One of them he recognized instantly, Dylan. That means the other two were exactly who he thought it was.
"Yes Arthur, it's us." The red head at the foot of his bed said as he began to slowly walk towards him. Geoffrey was wailing, and Arthur could feel a really intense bed feeling pooling in his gut. He had to get out of here. "You're not going anywhere." He snarled, his foreign accent deep. Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't leave his lips. The redhead laughed. "Yes, I can read your mind. However, there seems to be a bit of a barrier." Arthur clutched the infant in his hands as he fumbled off of the bed, away from the three men,
Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck! What the fuck?! I thought he said a fortnight?! He kept his back pressed against the wall as he eyed the intruders on the opposite side of the room. Arthur's ears were ringing due to Geoffrey's crying, but his fear allowed him to ignore it, staring down his brothers. He stepped over to the right, where the door was, but he stopped when he saw a flash of silver from Seamus. Arthur squinted at him. It was a dagger.
"Uh..." Arthur started, voice wavering in fear. Oh my god, what's happening? "W-w-what d-do you want?" he said in a panicked voice, still eyeing the dagger. Are they going to kill him? "Why are you h-here?" he said as he bounced the infant, trying to calm him down. Right then it seemed that all three just noticed the presence of the child the blond was clutching. They eyed him curiously.
"Is that your child?" Dylan asked with a soft voice, approaching him slowly. Arthur screamed, very aware of the weapons of the other's person. "Settle down! Settle down Arthur! We are not here to hurt you!" At least that what the brit thought he heard. The child was still screaming, and the other man had a deep foreign accent, one he barely understood. Arthur couldn't fight the tears welling up in his eyes. Why did he take Geoffrey? He would have been safer with Davie.
"Davie?" The red head spoke again, a sinister grin on his face. "Is he the father?" Arthur flinched, willing himself not to answer with his thoughts. He shook his head wildly. Allister frowned. "Are you lying?" he growled as he took a single step closer, causing the brit to cry out, taking another step toward the door.
"What do you want!? Go away! I don't want to go with you!" he pleaded through his tears, hushing the baby in his hands. Arthur didn't want to go. He thought he had at least 2 weeks to prepare himself. He didn't want to go back and join their cult! He wanted to stay with Alfred forever! The red head snarled at him. Arthur paused, realizing what he had just thought.
"So it's true, you and the prince are mates." He said disbelievingly. "You want to continue being his little toy! Well, too bad! We aren't going to stand by and watch as you crossbreed with those savages." He growled, lunging at the brit, who sprinted for the door. Seamus, like a ghost, appeared out of nowhere to his left and swung his sword at the brit. The metal weapon only grazed the brit as he continued for his escape. The Englishman could hear them chase after him, but he pulled the door open and stepped through, dashing down the hallway, screaming.
"Alfred! ALFRED!" He screeched, the baby still wailing in his arms, ignoring the pain on his side. He pushed open the study to find a shocked prince and a confused Harold. Arthur didn't even wait for a question. "They're here!" He said simply, shoving the door closed. "My brothers are here; they're trying to kill us!" He ran towards the end of the study, the farthest from the door. He still had his little nook, the place he used for reading, and hid the baby and himself there.
The most he could do is stay out of the way. That's all he should be doing. Arthur felt his heart beat out of his chest when he heard the door slamming and people rushing in. He could hear the Harold yell in shock, and the prince unsheathe his sword. There was the sound of metal clashing, and it was as if the baby in his arms knew that this situation was dire, for it stop crying.
"Arthur!" He could hear his name being called, however it didn't belong to the American accent he grew so fond of. "Arthur, we are not going to hurt you!" the voice was getting louder, but the brit still heard swords clashing, so he could only imagine that the other blond just slipped through to go look for him. "Arthur come out! You and your son are safe." He said softly, he still thinks he and Geoffrey are related.
"Get away from there!" He heard Alfred grunt. His voice too was getting louder. He must have been rushing towards the brits. He heard more swords clash, and even more stomping feet. The ground began to shake. Reinforcements?! He heard as people flooded the room, the Harold, once again, yelled in shock as American soldiers entered the study. Arthur felt a wave of relief wash over him when he heard Davie call his name.
"Allister, through the window!" He heard Dylan yell as the voice got farther. He then heard the prince order for the windows to be blocked, but the sound of the windows breaking lead the Arthur to believe that the three men had already jumped.
"Get outside! To the courtyard! They couldn't make that drop without getting hurt!" Alfred ordered, and the people began to shuffle out. "Arthur!" He called out. The brit was still catching his breath, so he didn't reply right away. "Arthur?!" the prince asked again, worry dripping from his voice. He was rushing towards the back of the destroyed Solar, looking for his lover. "Arthur!? Jesus Christ fucking answer me!? Arthur?!" he cried out, distressed.
"Here" he finally called from in his nook, not moving to leave it. "I'm in here."
Alfred and Davie both crawled into the nook, the latter taking the infant into his arms, and the prince burying himself in the brit's scent. They smelled each other desperately before connecting their lips. The brit was shaking wildly, unsure of what was going to happen. Will he be safe with Alfred anymore? Is he going to be okay?
Alfred was growling uncontrollably, shaking with rage as he scented the other. Arthur panted, out of breath. He heard Alfred mumble something, but he ignored it, focusing on the mysterious ache on his side. Was it because he ran here? It happens to people often, Arthur knew that, but he ran a very short distance, a very long time ago, why was he still panting.
"Arthur! Don't move. Stay very still." Arthur looked at the prince in confusion. His eyes were wet, his lids pink, and his expression was mortified. What was wrong? Arthur was about to ask what was wrong, but the prince hushed him, calling out to Davie, who had left the nook to give the baby off to a maid. "Davie!" His voice was much shriller than before, in fact, Arthur had never heard the American sound so afraid.
The other knight came into the nook before looking around curiously. He spotted the brit and took in his appearance, before he gasped. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he took a few tentative steps backward. "I'll get the surgery ready." He said hastily, running off. Surgery? Arthur looked down at himself in panic, eyes widening as he finally caught wind of what they were reacting to.
He was bleeding.
The entire left side of his shirt was soaked in blood, the warm liquid dripping down to his black pants. He looked back up at the prince who looked as if he was about ready to have a heart attack. His eyes were alight with the fire of his hatred. Arthur looked back down, and then up at the American, going between the two as he tried to process what was going on. Based on the amount of blood he lost, the cut must have been deep, which was probably why Davie ran off to get the surgery ready.
Arthur, since the beginning of his stay here at the fortress, had seen only 7 knights get wounds like this. Only one of them had made it.
He looked back up at the prince, eyes stinging with tears. He spoke quietly, voice cracking. "Am...A-am I going to-"
Before he could even finish the thought the prince hushed him with a quick kiss. "No, no, no, Arthur listen to me you are not going to die!" He was practically yelling, but Arthur didn't mind, he knew that the prince was afraid for him. The brit let his tears fall, thinking back as to when he might have acquired this wound. He allowed the prince to help him up, hissing as he did so. The wound was no longer numbed by the adrenaline. As they walked towards the study door, the brit could feel the wound splitting even further. His vision became spotty, and he began to cough roughly, wiping the blood from his lips. Oh God, he was coughing up blood. The coughing got so bad that he cried out pathetically, almost collapsing. Thankfully the prince was there, scooping him up and delivering him the rest of the way.
He was rushed to the infirmary, where the table had been set up. Davie wore a smock and his hands were gloved, his eyes alight with concern. Half a dozen nurses were buzzing about the room, ready to, and anxious to, get the surgery started. Arthur was set on the table by the American, who was then rushed out of the room by Davie. Arthur whimpered. Was he going to die!? Why did he kick Alfred out?! Arthur was about to move when he saw Davie approach him with a rag.
"Arthur, I promise I will do my best to save your life." He said simply, voice sad. Arthur was about to question him when the dark haired fellow placed the rag over his mouth and nose, pressing it down. Arthur screamed in shock, eyes blown out. The rag burned his nostrils as he was forced to lay back. Arthur watched in horror as his whole world turned black, wondering if he'll ever see it again
