Arthur's point of view.

John shook his head for the umpteenth time and Arthur couldn't hold back his groan of annoyment. John reached across the table and grabbed the brit left hand softly. Arthur opened his eyes to look into warm hazel ones, that seemed to give him reassurance. Arthur shook his head, it's okay to make mistakes now, better than at the coronation. "Alright, ask me again." He said, squaring his shoulders off. John smirked proudly and repeated himself.

"Good evening lord Arthur, my name is so and so and I can't help but wonder how you had myself acquainted to my dear ally prince Alfred. I mean no disrespect, but I have watched for years as Alfred turned down suitors by the dozens, i would just like to know how the two of you lovebirds met." John said , still holding on to Arthur's hand. The brit was glad, whenever he got nervous, he found comfort in the physical presence of another. Though he knew he wouldn't always be able to hold someone's hand, he was just beginning, and he knew that soon enough he'd be fine speaking without support. He cleared his throat.

"Oh, it is quite alright, I find no offense in the question lord so and so. However, i must warn you, it is quite an uneventful story, i fear i might bore you to death." He He tried to act as confident as possible, as secure and as friendly. He looked at John, and like always, he was in character, not letting the brit know how he was doing until the end of the interaction. So, he continued. "It all started in Lancaster, England. It's a small county town outside of Lancashire. As you know the war decimated London, but a few towns were able to survive, like mine. My father, Sir Arnold Pendragon, is a fairly wealthy merchant who sometimes provided the Fortress Savage with weapons and servants when they were low. I, however, usually handled the paperwork and never really met my trade partners. At least until I ran into a knight at the bank of the river Lune. I didn't recognize him, i just thought he was another American, so I began to talk to him and asked him if he needed help.

"He was so kind and well mannered as we chatted, and I couldn't help but fancy him. I took him too my father, where, to my shock, they knew each other. In fact, they embraced each other like old friends. That was when I found out who he was. Throughout our entire conversation, only his name has came up, Alfred Jones, he never brought up his rank. As you could imagine, I was dumbfounded and utterly embarrassed at my causal behaviour. The prince, however, didn't mind, and in fact stayed a few nights at my father's house, to talk to me, to talk to my dad? I don't know, but at the end of the visit, he invited me to spend a few days at his Fortress..."

"Oh, and you just went, just like that?" John asked, still in character. He looked suddenly judgmental, and Arthur knew that he was trying to get Arthur to save himself. Arthur chuckled.

"Oh, well, of course not. I denied him as politely as possible, despite the feeling in my gut begging me to go with him. To my surprise, though, he kept returning, sometimes for meetings with my father, or just to walk with me on the river bank. Either way, he always came to see me when he was in the area, and that was almost daily, despite the two hour ride to get to me. And for a few weeks, we continued like that, and eventually I told my father of my excursions. to say the least he wasn't surprised."

"Why? Do you do things like this often?" John asked with a quirked brow. Arthur frowned for a split second before he caught himself, forcing a straight face.

"Before i met Alfred i would always stay in my office or in my chambers, I had no real interest to interact with people i had no interest in. So when I began suddenly going out more, my father simply figured i had met someone worth my time, and with the Prince coming as often as he had it took no genius to piece things together." he said coldly, almost snapping. He sighed, already knowing the outcome of this simulation. John frowned at his tone.

"You can't snap at royalty, Arthur." John said with a shake of his head, disapprovingly. Arthur groaned, it was going so good. "However, everything up until then was good, not great, but good. We'll have time to work on your cover story. Let's get you in the clue." He began to hum as he shuffled through his papers, long since removing his hand from the other. "Aha!" he looked excited, the corners of his eyes were wrinkled because he was smiling to his eyes. Arthur couldn't help but smile back.

"Your 'Father', Mr. Pendragon, has just set sail, the messenger hawk just came in." John new the truth already, the prince, apparently, telling the harold on the first night, not even a full 24 hours after he had promised the brit he wouldn't have told anyone. Arthur didn't know how he felt about it, but he had found himself very comfortable with the harold himself, and was afraid that their future interactions would be awkward. "Here, he sent you a letter of adoption. Go on, take it." he handed the brit the parchment, ignoring the englishman's face. What the hell is he talking about.

Adoption papers?

Dear Mr. Pendragon,

It appears that you have dragged me into a scheme, one that will bring me either great fortune or great grief. You may not know this, but I have no living children, all of them lost to the plague, and eventually, though I am not so old, I know my time will come too and all of my great wealth will be lost as well. I need an heir, a legal heir, and if I adopt you, you will become my heir.

I'm adopting you purely for security reasons.

However, like every deal, there's a catch. For me to continue pretending to be your father, you must adhere to these things.

1) You must keep my estate and pass it down

2)You must be willing to learn about how i conduct my business and take lessons from me on a weekly bases

3)You must promise to continue all of my business ventures when you eventually take control of my estates

These are quite simple, and easy enough. We will meet face to face on the mainland, and i will introduce myself formally. Attached to this letter is a document asking you release some of your responsibilities to me. Nothing too drastic, just you needing my permission to do serious things like marriage and divorce. I won't, and i repeat, I won't be an imposing figure in your life, and in fact, you won't even see me unless for our meetings. However, in times of emergency, I have a country home a few days way from the capital, i know how difficult it can be for a brit in America, i go there often enough to know.

Best regards, Sir Arnold Pendragon

Arthur stared at the letter, face slowly contorting into a frown. "Well, i would have appreciated a few days notice." John sighed.

"I would have too, but it appears the prince is taking things into his own hands. I know this may feel like a violation, but just know he has nothing but the best intentions." Arthur rose an eyebrow. He didn't feel violated, at least not yet, he didn't even feel too stressed.

"YeaH" Arthur said, looking around for a quill. He had nothing to lose, his parents were dead, his brothers were back at the island and he needed a supporting character in his fake story. He had found one and this would probably be his only chance. He spotted a quill across the room and moved to retrieve it, grabbing the tool, and taking it back to the table. He groaned when he noticed he didn't have an ink well. "John, where is the ink well?" he asked, turning his head.

"On the shelf."

Arthur went to the shelf, shuffled for a bit, and found the ink well, grabbing it and taking it back to the table. He dipped the quill in the ink, and signed his name, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had no idea what he was really getting into, he just prayed that it would be better than how the queen will treat him. He shuttered at the thought. There was no going back, he would have to meet the queen soon.

~~~~~ Wounded Knight~~~~~

Arthur snuggled up against his alpha and sighed, exhausted. It was a long day, even though he didn't do much, and all he wanted was to spend time with his mate. Alfred was currently stroking his hair, smiling and humming to himself, occasionally kissing his forehead. The brit purred, tracing circles along the other's shirtless chest. It was was around midnight, and the rest of the crew were still chatting it up on the decks, having a merry time. The englishman had to admit, it was fun when the sun was down, the ominous feeling in his gut when it was around was gone and he could fully enjoy himself. Arthur often wondered what it was meant to be a sign for. If he was put off by it, then it must have been bad. Nevertheless, the brit never expressed his concerns, because it would require him to expose himself as magical and who knows how much of a strain that could cause in a relation, even one as strong as the one he had with Alfred.

"Artie, are you okay? You look a little worried." The American asked lazily. The brit shrugged and smiled it off.

"No, I was just thinking about life, and how the smiles won't last forever." He yawned onto the prince's chest. Alfred hummed again.

"Well," the American started, and Arthur rolled his eyes. "Things won't change too much." At that, Arthur couldn't help but scoff.

"You're going to become king of an entire country, I'm moving into an entirely new country, and I have signed away my rights to my new legal guardian, a man i've never met. If all of that seems insignificant to you, then i guess things won't change much." There was no venom in his voice, so he was very taken aback by his lover's response.

"Arthur cut the crap, i know you were referring to my mother when you made your first comment." He mumbled bitterly. "I love you man but can you stop taking jabs at her, its been a week already, are you going to do this for the rest of the trip?" He sounded annoyed, but he only tightened his grip on the brit's waist. Arthur scowled, debating whether or not he should retort. After a moment of consideration, he decided to go for it.

"Can you blame me? She's awful on paper, and god knows what she's saying about me. I could already tell my life isn't going to go as smooth as I'd like, but at the end of the day, I'm going to have to deal with her nagging, and so you're going to have to deal with mine!" Arthur looked his mate in the eyes as a challenge, the alpha staring back with a frown.

"You're going to be living near her for a very long time, alright? You don't know her, yet you swear she's the devil. Don't you realize that as far as you know she's the kindest person out there? That you refusing her a second chance at presenting herself is just going to make your stay less and less enjoyable?" The prince lowkey growled. Arthur caught that and snarled back at the American, who now looked taken aback. "Did you just snarl at me?"

"Yes I did, and if you don't like it, then fuck off and don't growl at me." He huffed, pulling away from the American. Alfred looked incredibly annoyed, but he just sighed heavily.

"Arthur... relax."

"No." The brit glared at the American straight in the eyes. "It may be easy for you, to run around in cursed sunlight and 'chill' with your friends, but my life is going to change dramatically in a few weeks, do you realize? I'm nervous and it's counterproductive to tell me to relax, you know that already." Alfred opened his mouth, as if he were going to say something, but he didn't. He just stared at the englishman before rolling his eyes. Is he serious? Arthur scoffed, irritated.

"Why is it always about you?" The American mumbled as he stood up from the bed.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to get some fresh air." He said as he made a move for the door. Where does he think he's going? Arthur didn't bother standing up, making his threat while fluffing his pillow.

"I swear to god if you leave I will follow you and make a scene in front of all of your friends." He received a loud, frustrated growl. The American turned to face the brit with raised brows and red cheeks.

"Arthur, you can not, and will not tell me what to do." He sputtered out. The brit rolled his eyes as the prince continued. "I hold myself partly responsible for your vanity, but Jesus Christ, it's not always about you! You aren't the only one who is stressed! I'm going to be a king in 4 more weeks! I've been trying to mentally prepare myself for the past week but your nagging is making me want to pull my hair out! Arthur, like i said before, I love you, and i always will, but God! Can you stop being a nuisance or more than 24 hours?! I'm tired of hearing you shit talk my mother and getting angry when i don't praise you for it. You're not five, I'm tired of coddling you because you like being at the center of attention. Grow up!" And with that, before the brit even had a chance to respond, he left the room, slamming the door shut.


1 week later...

Arthur sat playing cards with the Frenchman Chancy, who was currently losing badly. The other was probably the worst card player Arthur had ever come across, yet he still had a determined smile on his face. Chancy had shoulder length pale blonde hair that was silky smooth and shiny. He was a little taller than Arthur, 5 feet and 7 inches, and, unsurprisingly, they had the same body type. However, chancy was much more curvaceous because he had more meat on his bones, weighing a good 20 pounds more. Therefore, as you could imagine, he was a little chubby. His cheeks were a little round, and his chin, when he tucked his head in, made a double layer of fat. His arms were a bit meaty, and his stomach stuck out about half an inch from his buckle. His hips were large, giving him a pear-like figure: small on top and big on the bottom. Chancy was still a man, of course, so he wouldn't have any breast, until he gave birth that is. But as of right now, Arthur's omega friend was still unmated.

Chancy had an impish nose, so it was perfectly straight until you reached the ball of his nose where it was slightly pointed and upturned lightly. He had startling lightning blue eyes and pink full lips. He also sported light freckles across his nose, which Arthur couldn't help but find cute. Everything about this man was cute, and Arthur couldn't help but find himself gravitating towards Chancy. It was probably because he was an omega too, and how he, despite his status, still managed to be second in command. Arthur would spend most of his day watching as the other blond carried himself, barking orders in french and being respected. The englishman always wondered how Chancy managed to get to where he was today, but whenever he didn't, he would always be sharply disappointed.

Chancy only spoke french.

Chancy yawned and set down his cards, he adjusting himself so his head would rest on the brit's lap. Perhaps it was french thing? Francis tried doing it too, but Arthur wouldn't let him. However, it was Chancy, so he let him be. After a few moments Chancy was fast asleep, soft snores can be heard. Before long the brit too, was asleep.


Arthur woke up to the sound of soft shuffling and hushed voices. The englishman didn't care enough to ask who it was, so he tried to go back to sleep. However, when Chancy started saying his name from across the room, the brit couldn't help but be interested. He knew it was Chancy, not only because of his voice, but because the other insisted on calling him "ami grincheux", whatever the hell that meant.

The brit opened one eye up slightly and saw immediately who was in the room. Chancy and Davie were sitting next to each other, the latter holding up a pink flower and whispering some things. It took Arthur a lot of concentration before he could make out what the other said. "Pe-tals" Davie said, pointing at a petal. Chancy looked uncertain. Davie repeated himself a few times, before sighing. He put the flower down. Chancy pouted.

"Je suis désolé, veuillez me donner une autre chance!" The blond gripped the knight by the bicep and leaned in, continuing to plead. Davie sighed again.

"I don't know what you're saying, but I'll do it one more time." Chancy looked confused until Davie picked up the flower again. "Repeat after me. Peh"

"Peh?"

Davie nodded, a wide grin on his face. "Tuhl"

"Toll? Tall? T-tah?" Chancy fumbled, struggling to emulate the other's words. Davie, shook his head.

"Tuhl"

"Toll"

"Tuhl" Davie repeated.

"Talm" Chancy said, eyes wide. Davie paused and sighed, nodding his head despite the other's failure. Chancy smile proudly at himself. Davie pointed at the part again and said the whole word.

"Peh-tuhl"

"Pee-tall"

"Peh-tuhl"

"Peh-tuhl" Chancy repeated. Davie once again nodded.

"Petal" he said all at once, allowing the other to take in what he was saying. "Petal" he repeated, and he kept on repeating until Chancy finally gestured for him to stop.

"Petol?" Davie closed his eyes, probably asking himself about how he should get out of his situation. The American finally nodded, and Chancy cheered to himself, patting Davie's shoulder as thanks. Chancy began to chant the word, smiling widely as he walked around the room. "Petol, petol, petol, petol..." Arthur could only assume that Davie was giving him an english lesson, why he started with flower parts, he didn't know.

Arthur eventually stretched himself out, yawning dramatically, gaining the attention of the two second in commands. Chancy beamed at him and approached him excitedly, tripped over a boot, and landed with a thud next to the brit. Arthur shot him a displeased look. "You need to be careful, you might hurt yourself" he scolded, but Chancy just shrugged it off, not understanding what the brit was saying.

"Ami grincheux! J'ai un nouveau nom por toi! Petol!" Arthur frowned. Petol! What about petals?

"Petals? What about petals?" He asked, straightening out his clothes. Chancy just chanted the word, pointing at the brit.

"Petol, petol!" he said much more earnestly. Then it suddenly clicked.

"Me? I'm Petol?" he asked, gesturing to himself. Chancy nodded, continuing to point at the brit. The brit nodded along with him, the two blondes just nodding at each other excitedly. They hardly noticed when the prince walked in. Alfred greeted this next in command briefly, pausing to watch the the scene play out in front of him. He smiled warmly before catching himself, returning his attention back to Davie. "I need your assistance," he said. Davie nodded slowly, standing up with a small sigh and following the prince out of the room. Arthur noticed them leaving, and he frowned.

"Well, good morning to you too." He he said low, but loud enough for it to travel to everyone's ears. The prince turned around briefly, humming.

"It's the afternoon now, actually," he corrected, turning and leaving the room. Arthur blinked wildly before turning his attention to Chancy again, pushing Alfred abrasive attitude away from his mind. Chancy had stopped chanting and Davie stared at the brit with empathetic eyes. That's when Chancy stood, readjusting his clothes as he did it.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked casually. He didn't want to sound so desperate. Chancy pointed at his wrist watch. The brit sighed, understanding perfectly. his break was over, he had to return to the deck and help instruct the French workers. Arthur smiled thinly as he waved them off, both second in commands waving back. Arthur sighed. That bastard scared Chancy away.

That bastard being Alfred of course.

For the last few days, the prince has been giving the brit the cold shoulder, only spending time with the brit at night, when they were asleep. Even then, it was hardly any interaction. A few days ago, Arthur would get into bed and have to force the other to even look at him, and sometime during the night there bodies would find each other and they would wake up in each other's arms. However, now Alfred won't even give him that satisfaction. He stays on the deck until early morning, and try as he might, Arthur can't stay awake long enough to witness his mate climb into bed. The next morning, the brit would awake as early as he could, but only to find that the American had already left, leaving behind only a warm imprint. Arthur only went up to the deck a few times a day, for his daily lessons and a brisk conversation with Matthew. Whenever he tried to approach Alfred, he would tell him he was too busy to talk, or would just ignore his existence and walk away. Arthur, on some occasions, would be able to make Alfred smile warmly, and that would happen during dinner, where everyone was cheery therefore inclining the prince to hold back his attitude. But even if it wasn't him that made Alfred laugh, it would be someone else, and his mate's smile was one of Arthur's favorite things to look at, a prized jewel of sorts.

But like everything else, the prince stripped him of that too.

Alfred had commanded that John continue their lessons in the brit's chamber, so it would be "easier for Arthur to avoid the sun" he had said. He has also asked Francis to send down his second in command to keep the brit company as he and Francis did whatever they did on a boat. And as of late, he has even began sending down the brit's meal, the servants wishing the brit well and that his fever would pass over. What fever? Arthur didn't have a fever. That was just Alfred's way of uninviting the brit from the meals. So he didn't go up for meals, they were just delivered to him. However, he didn't choose to not go because of Alfred alone, dinners had become awkward.

Alfred would ignore and chat to his friends, Matthew would talk to Francis and Arthur wouldn't feel comfortable with encroaching on their quality time. He could try spending dinner with Chancy, but the frenchman had his own friends, people he can actually understand. Besides, he;s already forced to spend two hours of his day to keep the brit company, it wouldn't be fair. Arthur could talk to Davie, and actually enjoy the conversation, but Davie is friends with Arthur but loyal to the prince. On multiple occasions Davie had even avoided the brit altogether because he didn't want to seem partial. He wouldn't hesitate to strike up a conversation with Alfred though, but who was the brit kidding, he's known Davie for 4 months now, nowhere near as long as the knight knew the prince.

All Arthur knew is that he hoped his mate would start acting like the kind person he knew a little over a week ago. Until then, Arthur will remain resolute, not shedding a single tear. The American probably wanted an apology, for what, the brit knew not. Arthur had promised himself that he would stay as composed as possible because Alfred was obviously being cruel to get a reaction out of him. Maybe this'll teach the American that mind games don't work, and that he'll have to face his problems head on.


4 hours later...

The brit was reading a book while wrapped in a pile of blankets and pillows when the door opened softly. The prince walked in with Davie, smiling and talking about flowers.

"I'm telling you right now, that flower is poisonous." Davie scolded. Alfred shrugged.

"I didn't eat it, i just tossed it overboard! I'm not an idiot; i don't just put random things in my mouth." He began shuffling through his things as he continued to ignore Arthur. The brit, taking the hint, returned to his reading. He was so engrossed into the book that he was soon transported into a new realm of dragons and witches and fairies. He didn't realize Alfred was calling him until he raised his voice. "Earth to Pendragon, do you know where my long shirt is?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Arthur stared at him blankly for a second. Did he just call him by his last name?

"Uh... I think a crew member took it for cleaning. It's probably hanging in one of the lower..." Arthur trailed off as the prince tuned him out and walked towards the door to get his shirt. Why does he need his night shirt now? It wasn't even time for dinner yet. "Why do you need your night shirt?" He asked, letting some of his confusion out. Alfred turned to look at him.

"I keep coming to bed late and I can tell it's making you restless and your condition worse. I'm taking it with me just in case I need to sleep in another chamber tonight." He answered almost robotically. Arthur furrowed his brow.

"I don't feel restless at night when you come home late, but if you insist I am, why don't you just come to bed earlier?" At this point Davie pursed his lips, leaving the room. Alfred shrugged his shoulders.

"I sleep when I'm tired." He turned, pulling the door open, signifying the conversation was over.

"Ok" Arthur said softly, trying not to let his disappointment seep through his voice. It did, a lot did, so much that the prince himself paused. He turned his head slightly.

"Is that okay with you?" he asked softly. Arthur stared at him for a moment. Perhaps this was his chance to get the American back into his life. The brit stumbled with his answer.

"I mean... I would like for you to spend the night with me..." he trailed off as he saw a flash of annoyment cross the American's face. Was he coming off as clingy?

"I spend the night with you every night, why is this a big deal?!" The American snapped at him out of nowhere. Arthur scowled at him.

"Don't yell at me!" He started. "Don't fucking yell at me! Go! Get out! Stay with your friends! I don't care!" he yelled, taking his book and ignoring the American. Alfred hummed indifferently and left the room. Arthur couldn't concentrate on the words in his book, all of his focus on blinking back the stinging feeling in his eyes. He closed the book and rolled onto his side.

"I don't need him. I'm perfectly fine by myself." He soon got up and went into his 'bathroom'. it was actually a room with a bucket, a mirror and a another few buckets of water. He handled his business and washed his hands and face, deciding to go to bed without dinner.