3 days later...
Arthur had woken up in pain. His head ached and his throat was sore. His muscles felt like lead and he it hurt to move. He opened his eyes and hissed in agony as the light hit it, head pulsating. What's going on? He felt like he needed to vomit, heaving over the side of the bed. However, the brit hadn't eaten a single thing for the last two days, so he dry heaved nothing, the only thing threatening to spill out was his organs. He turned to the side in hopes that his mate might have spent the night. He wasn't surprised to see that side was untouched. He hadn't come to see Arthur in three days, not a single interaction.
Arthur couldn't stay in there, he had to get out of his room. He forced his legs over the side of the bed, whimpering out. He stood, panting, already shaking wildly. He tried taking a painful step, and another, and another before the pain became too excruciating, legs buckling and the brit falling down with a harsh thump. He whimpered some more. After a while, he tried to call out, but his voice was so hoarse and broken that it had done nothing but hurt him. Then he felt cramps, doubling over and squeezing his eyes shut, letting the tears fall. What the hell is happening?! Is he dying? Was he poisoned?
He didn't notice he was moving until his head brushed against the leg of his bed. He opened his eyes what he saw made him scream.
There was a 'rope' tied around his foot that was dragging him into the bathroom. This rope, however, wasn't a rope exactly. It was a collection of red runes even he couldn't read, and it was burning his ankle as it pulled him towards who knows what. He screamed again, grabbing at anything to save his sometime. After a few seconds of no one coming in to help, Arthur, while still holding onto the bed, pulled his legs in as best he could, the rune rope being pulled by something strong. He used one hand to try and pull off the rope, hissing as it burned his fingers. His Ankle, he could see, was well beyond blistered, the skin bubbling up gruesomely.
He screamed again, the rope jerking him suddenly and harshly, causing him to lose his grip on the bed. He, try as he might, was no match for the force that was kidnapping him, and he was left scratching at the floor as he was dragged into the bathroom. He turned in fear of his destination, and his heart leapt as to where he was actually going.
The mirror.
The other side of the rope was in the mirror. The glass no longer looked like glass but like liquid mercury, rippling as the brit struggled against the rope. The mirror was a portal, a magic portal leading to god knows where with god knows who. His mate would never find him, as if he'd want to anyway. Arthur began to cry out again, pouring out his desperation and all of his grief, staring at the door of his chamber in hopes of someone, anyone, coming to save him . He began to cry as he felt something cool on his feet. He looked back to his legs and saw that his ankles were submerged in the liquid, that he was being pulled in faster. He began to thrash, but the portal was dense, like quicksand, he could hardly move his legs. He cried out again, but this time, he called for his mate.
"Alfred! Alfred!" his voice was broken and he was crying. He continued to chant his mate's name anyway. "Alfred! Alfr..." he trailed off, already being waist deep in the portal. Is he not worth saving? He placed his hands onto the frame of the mirror and began to push away. It took much effort, and it felt like he was tearing the muscles off of the bone of his arm. Arthur panted, swearing at himself. What's the point of being magic if you can't use it? He had finally begun to see some progress, his thighs no longer being submerged in the mirror. All he needed was a little more time, or help.
As he pushed, he continued to call for his mate, that maybe the prince would be able to feel his distress just as the brit could often feel his. Lost in his thoughts, the brit accidently let his hand slip, the rope finding new life, tugging harshly. The brit couldn't recover in time, now up to his chest in the portal. He let out a gut wrenching scream before he had a mouth full of magic liquid. The portal was up to his eyes when he heard the front door burst open, His mate calling out to him in worry and confusion. Arthur needed to alert him somehow, but how?
He used what little energy he had left to help himself, gripping the frame once more and dragging his head out. "A-Alfred!" he gasped in desperation. He heard the brit call out as he rushed to the bathroom, jaw dropping as he witnessed the brit's head pass through the mirror. Arthur could only see darkness, eyes stinging. He couldn't believe this was happening, he was going to be shot into the middle of nothingness and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it because everyone hates him. He felt one last tear roll before his head, once again, was pulled into the 'real world'. Alfred gripped his wrist, pulling on him fast and hard. Before long the brit's whole body was out of the void. His ankle, however, felt as if it was about to fall off.
"Alfie my ankle." was all he could manage. Alfred stopped pulling and drew his sword, staring at the strange rope in awe. "Alfie please, it's burning me" he whimpered. The American swung down at the rope, and with a spark, it disappeared. Arthur sighed and whimpered. The next thing he knew he was sitting on the bed, the American looking at his ankle. Some of his skin was burned black, others just pink and blistered. Alfred looked conflicted, unsure whether to get help or to dress the burn himself. Arthur just waited for him to decide, knowing full well that the burn won't be there in a few days. He'll heal as quickly as he had when he was stabbed by his brother.
"What's going on?" Alfred asked finally. Arthur was so tired, he didn't want to get into to it.
"I don't know." he lied. He could tell by the writing that it had to be that weird cult he had been avoiding. Alfred hummed, he didn't continue to press, however. He stood up, washed his hands, and brought in a bucket of fresh water from the bathroom. He set it down under the brit's foot and told him to drop his leg. Arthur hissed as the cool water coated the burn, shaking wildly. He whimpered when the prince touched it with some some.
"I need to clean it Artie." he explained. Arthur nodded, pleasantly surprised when he heard the American say his nickname. The prince got up and opened his closet, pulling out a first aid kit. He sat back down on the ground and carefully removed the foot from the water, patting it dry with a few fresh rags in the kit. He then pulled out some ointment and rubbed it on the perimeter of the burn, not the center because there was a slight open wound. He pulled out a roll of fresh bandages and wrapped his burn carefully. When he was done, he reorganized the room, eyes still blown out in shock of what happened. Arthur dragged himself back into bed, utterly exhausted. Alfred went into the bathroom and came out with the mirror tucked under his arm. He left the room without a word and returned a few moments later, without a mirror.
"Where did you put it?" Arthur asked, lazily. Alfred smirked.
"Overboard."
Arthur admits that he missed the contact. He was being force fed his breakfast, the brit claiming to not be hungry. Of course he was hungry, but he had screamed his throat raw, all he wanted was warm tea with honey. So he got it of course, the prince finally feeling awful for what he did in light of what just happened. Neglecting his mate for a total of 10 days was awful. The brit wasn't angry at the prince, but he did want to know why he had spazzed out the way he had.
"I'm sorry." the brit said suddenly, as the American worked on some papers in bed. He wasn't really paying attention to the brit, but he managed to mutter a "your welcome." Arthur sighed, scooting as close as he could get to the American without angering him, leaving a good 12 inches between them."I said i was sorry, not thank you." he said softly, but the American seemed to notice this time. He turned to the brit with a sad face.
"You actually did nothing wrong, I was just being a dick." He said as he turned back to his working, leaning on the headboard. Arthur wanted to touch him again, snuggle up beside him like he used to, but he didn't know how the other would react. He looked hard at work too, and even though the brit just wanted to know what was going through the American's head, he let him be. No point in starting another argument. Arthur shifted so he could lie down, going to take another nap. It would have been his third one today, even though it was a little before noon.
Arthur was about to drift off to sleep when John walked in with some books. He dropped it though, when he noticed the scene on the bed. Alfred was actually there, and the brit looked frail, pale, and spent. Alfred eyed John warily before telling him the lesson is canceled because Arthur needed rest. John hummed.
"Are you okay Arthur? Do you want me to get a doctor?" he asked, eyeing the brit with suspicion. Arthur shook his head.
"I just have a headache and a sore throat, I'm fine." John nodded and left, the brit thankful that he had asked him personally on what his status was. Alfred had noticed too, but he didn't seem too put off by it. "Are you okay though?" the brit asked the prince. Alfred nodded, not using his voice. "Are you still angry with me?" The brit asked, and the prince shook his head. "Okay, sorry for bothering you then." he whispered, turning around to face the wall. Alfred was here, but he wasn't here. Arthur couldn't help but sigh sadly. He guessed it would take some time.
"You aren't bothering me, I'm just busy is all." He said softly, humming. Arthur hummed back at him. Alfred shuffled a little bit behind the brit and eventually kissed the top of his head.
That was the first kiss in 10 days.
Arthur pursed his lips as he blinked back his tears. He promised he wouldn't cry over his mate, but he couldn't believe how happy he was that the torture was over. "Thank you" he said softly, pushing through the fatigue. Alfred hummed in mild confusian before asking what was wrong. "Nothing..." he said with a cracked voice. Alfred shifted again and wrapped his arms around the brit. He asked again. Arthur leaned into his mate, letting his scent bombard his nose. "It's just that it's been such a long time since you... I was beginning to think you didn't love me anymore." He let the tears fall, turning around in the other's arm so he could bury himself in his chest. Alfred remained silent, tucking the brit's head under his chin.
"You've never treated me like that before," he continued, his voice slowly turning into a sob. "You're always so nice to me, the last 10 days were hell. Whenever I tried to talk to you you got angry with me or ignored me. You wouldn't say hi to me or acknowledge me anymore. He wouldn't even look me in the eye at night, if you even spent the night. You ostracized me and I've never felt so alone. Chancy stopped coming because he realized how depressing I was, so for the last three day my only human interaction was an hour lesson about manners. I don't really recall our argument all too well, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry. Just... please... forgive me. I've never felt so unloved before, it hurts, alot." Alfred responded with nothing, but the brit could feel his tears land on his head. Arthur was sorry, and he could tell that the other was sorry too. Finally the other spoke.
"I'm sorry. I really am. It's just that... I'm not... I can't..."He wasn't making any sense, why isn't he responding? Arthur looked up at him with red eyes. Alfred looked afraid, panicked and guilty.
"Alfie, are you okay?" Alfred shook his head.
"I'm not crazy." he whispered more to himself. "He told me too, I had too because he knew how to fix it..."
"Who?" Arthur squinted at the other.
"My conscious, Allan. He said he would fix me if I let him take over..." Arthur sat up slowly, looking at the American with suspicious eyes.
"Alfred, what do you mean fix you?"
"I mean fix this." He tucked some hair behind his ear and turned to side to give the brit a better view. Arthur gasped softly, leaning in to concentrate on it.
"What happened?"
Alfred shrugged. "It started to grow an hour after our argument. That's when Allan told me it was some stupid curse. He said he wanted control in return for fixing it, but if I knew what he was doing to you I would have never let him take over, I swear." His eyes were red, and so full of remorse, the brit couldn't help but pity him. However, from what he was gathering, Allan didn't sound like a subconscious, at least not one belonging to Alfred.
"I doesn't look like he did anything to it." Arthur said, and Alfred shook his head.
"It was much worse before, that's why he didn't come at night, or left early when he did. Before he completely took over, he told me to avoid you because you would be the first to notice it." He explained. It was making a little sense now, but Arthur was confused about when this subconscious began speaking to his mate.
"When did Allan start talking to you?" Arthur asked. Alfred pursed his lip, chuckling nervously.
"Remember when Elizabeta hit me with a pan?" Arthur shot his eyes open, and the narrowed them in annoyance.
"That was in the middle of December, Alfred, it's the end of March." He sighed, irritated. Does he realize that hearing voices after falling into a coma is a serious thing. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Does this voice talk to you often?"
"He promised to help me remember my past, and I didn't want anyone getting in the way of me figuring out why i can't remember shit. He doesn't come out too often, and when he does, he's just a voice, he never possessed me before." he explained. Arthur shook his head.
"How do you know you can trust him with your body? With the people around you?" Arthur scolded. Alfred bit his lip and looked down, disappointed in himself. "When has he spoken to you in the past and about what?" Alfred frowned.
"During Elizabeta's trial, he told me to keep her alive. When your brother had stabbed you and you fell into that coma, he told me to mercy kill you. And lastly, a couple of days ago about these" he said as he pointed to his ailment. Arthur sighed as he looked at them.
His ears were long and pointed, like an elf. Some curse.
"Did he explain what kind of curse it was?" Alfred shrugged.
"He called it a blood curse." Arthur grimaced. Of course it was.
"Is he here? Can you conjure him so I can talk to him?" he asked the prince. Alfred shrugged.
"Allan, you here?" He stopped and looked at the brit, shrugging. "I've never really called him before, he's usually there when i need him." He explained. Arthur nodded.
"Well, that's okay, he'll come out when he's bored and wants to emotionally abuse someone." he muttered. The American's ears twitched, and the prince scowled at what the brit had said.
"That's not funny."
"Sorry." The brit chuckled despite himself.
The two cuddle for the rest of the day, the American neglecting his work and the maids only coming in to wheel in and out food. Arthur could only eat pudding because it was the only thing that didn't hurt him, and that in itself made him sad. Alfred tried to eat light because he was aware of the other's inability to consume, but he himself was feeling quite ravished. Arthur had his nose buried into the crook of the other's neck for most of the day, satisfying his cravings. He kept the contact to sniffing, not too comfortable with the fact that the prince had another... entity?... inside of him.
"I love you." Arthur said for perhaps the 4th time that day. Alfred hummed.
"I love you too." He said, smiling slightly as he yawned. Arthur smiled softly as he pulled away. Alfred's eyes followed him, eyeing with worn out eyes, however Arthur momentarily ignored them. "Now that you seem settled and snug, Can you please tell me about what I walked in on this morning?" Alfred tried his best to keep his fear out of his eyes, but he couldn't hold it all back. Arthur nodded slowly, leaning back on the head board.
"Swear to me, Alfie, that you won't get upset." The brit was yelling at himself internally, his inner consciousness begging him not to tell the American. However, he didn't feel that sinking, ominous feeling in his gut, and he knew the outcome couldn't be that bad. The prince nodded wildly.
"I promise."
Arthur nodded, took deep breathes. "Well... I'll start from the beginning. Remember when you were knocked out by Elizabeta and I had that nightmare about being in a barn and couldn't get out? Well, that was my first supernatural event..." He let that sink in, and Alfred quirked his brow.
"Didn't you, not more that 7 hours ago, chastise me for not telling about my midnight encounters with otherworldly things?" He had a mocking tone, so the brit responded with a kissy face.
"Anyways, while in the nightmare, i was contacted by this cult about my mother and brothers and I being from a long line of witches. It never came up again until my brothers contacted me, and i read their note. I had no trouble reading it, but apparently, you couldn't understand it, you said it looked like rubbish." Alfred pouted before nodding his head, appearing to have remembered the event the brit was alluding to. "After i was stabbed and knocked unconscious, I communicated with my brother through the dreamscape, and he confirmed that i was magical, and that when i woke up..." Arthur's eyes widened.
The first thing you touch will absorb half of the curse...
"Fuck!" The brit spat. He did this to the American, the first thing he had grabbed was the prince's hands, causing him to fall into his coma. Alfred looked at him worriedly.
"What's wrong? What happened when you woke up?"
"The first thing i touched would be cursed..." He looked up slowly at the prince, waiting for him to catch on. It took about a whole minute of waiting before it finally dawned on the American, who gaped his mouth like a fish. Arthur continued. "I am so, so, so sorry. I didn't mean to grab you, you were trying to kill me and i had to stop you." He explained. The prince remained silent, just staring at the brit and biting his lip. "I'm sorry" he continued.
"Arthur..." The American started. He looked away from the brit, searching the room for answers. "I just... I am trying so hard to keep an open mind right now." He sounded stern and distant, like his thoughts. Arthur waited for the American to finish. "I... you're a witch... that's not something you hide from a mate. Other people yes, for your own safety, but for your mate, you should have trusted me enough with that information to tell me." He still wasn't looking at the brit. Was he mad again?
"I'm sorry, I really am. I guess we both kept dire secrets. But I promise to make things right. The second we land I'm going to study up on magic and reverse the curse or die trying." The brit said softly, the prince turning to look at him with narrow eyes.
"I don't think you can equivocate me hearing voices and you being of another species, Arthur." He shot, but he tried his best to sound calm. The brit, however, could feel the other's distress in his head. His mate was scared. "Secondly, I don't think you should go as far as dying over this blood curse, According to my conscious, left untreated it should disappear within the year, and since he's been working non stop, it'll be gone before we reach home. He also recommended that I should avoid impregnating you so i don't pass the curse on to our child. Apparently, the curse would be imbedded in his DNA and he would have to live the rest of his life with it." Arthur noticed the way the prince referred to his theoretical child as "Our's" and even went so far as to call it a boy. He then began to frown, remembering his situation.
"Don't need to worry about that, considering..." He trailed off, looking away from the prince in slight shame. Try as he might, he can't help but hate himself for not being able to produce his mate children. Yes, he knew his mother was a late bloomer and that he still had a chance, but after 20 years, the odds were against him. Alfred seemed to have pieced where the brit's thoughts were going so he pulled him in, kissing him softly on the temple.
"Arthur, I'm sorry, I forgot about... your condition. I just need you to understand that you shouldn't feel insecure about things you had no control over. I love you, whether or not you can give me kids." Alfred growled lightly in his ear for emphasis. The brit shuddered, but nodded, trying his best to suppress his doubts. He kissed the American back and wrapped around him, lying down.
"I love you too."
5 days later...
Arthur didn't know how much of a blessing the curse really was until this very moment. The prince's panting was music to his ears; his moans and groans were sweet melodies that the brit craved more of.
"Arthur... please..." He moaned, shaking wildly. He was stuck to his spot, pinned under the brit, naked. His nipples erect, along with his member, which was weeping and in great need of contact. The brit sat comfortably on the American's stomach to be sure not to accidently grant him any pleasure. However, it wouldn't be the end of the world if he did succumb to the American's demands. His wild blue eyes would dilate even wider than it was now, and his wild hair would be stuck to his face in sweat. The prince was a sight for sore eyes, yet the brit knew not of another time he would be able to get the American into such a state of vulnerability.
The brit crouched down and continued his attack of nibbles and licks on the other's pointed ears, causing the other to cry out in ecstasy. He thrusted upward, and pulled at his arms, which were tied to the bed posts. Arthur began to grind his own erection on the prince's abdomen, swaying his hips back and forth just like the prince liked.
"Arthur, ah... ah... ahh...nngh..." The prince panted, turning his head desperately, kissing the brit roughly. The brit allowed the kiss, using his tongue to gain dominance and making the other moan, before breaking away and sucking on his neck. "Ah- Arthur... I don't know if I can hold back any longer. This rope you tied on my wrists, they won't hold for any longer... if I get out, would you let me... ah! Ah...nngh..." He couldn't finish the thought, too lost in pleasure. The brit, nevertheless, understood, and after a little while of consideration, accepted.
"If you get out" he purred in the other's ear, "I'll let you do whatever you want to me, so long as you prepare me for it." Arthur wasn't prepared for the snapping sound, the prince suddenly gripping his waist and pinning him to the bed. He moaned out when he felt Alfred's lips against his neck, and his hard member rubbing against his. The brit paid no attention to the heat rushing to his face, only watching as the prince slowly pulled away with a growl and spread his legs open. "I said you have to prepare me first..." The other only grunted, suddenly shoving his fingers into the other's mouth.
"Suck"
So suck Arthur did, and he did so passionately, licking each individual digit until it was coated in his saliva. The Prince then proceeded to insert one digit into his entrance, and the brit clenched up, this being the first time he had ever gone this far willingly. "Sorry" he mumbled as he relaxed his muscles, the alpha nodded and bending down to give the other a comforting kiss. One by one the American inserted another finger, causing the brit to moan and pant louder the closer they got to his prostate. "Ah...Ah! Ah! AH! NNGH!" He threw his head to the side, his heart skipping a beat when his special button was grazed. He whimpered wildly as he moved in time with the other's thrusts. Just a few more and...
"Alfred~"
His face was red as he went limp as he finished all over the other's stomach. He felt some drool dribble out of his mouth, but he was too tired to do anything about it. Eventually the prince stopped, leaning over the brit and kissing him passionately. "Do you wanna stop now, or continue for the rest of the night?" Arthur blushed. He was tired, but after he put the prince through torture it seemed only fare to let him have what he wants. And lets not forget the brit wants this too.
"Take me."
Alfred spread his legs open once more, and the brit moaned loudly at the pull. The American slowly inserted himself into the other's virgin hole, the 8 inches not even getting halfway through before the brit was groaning in pain.
"Wait! Wait! It hurts, it hurts give me a second..." Alfred bent over him and kissed him, whispering encouraging words.
"We can stop whenever you want, just tell me. You look so goddamn beautiful right now it hurts to stay still, but you're doing great, i love you and you're doing great babe." He sucked on his ear, causing the brit to jerk. He nodded soon after, telling the other to continue his descent.
The burn was outstanding, Arthur admit, it was a lot more painful than he thought it would be. However, after a few moments of pushing the American was fully sheathed, the brit feeling as if he had just been trampled by a bull. The alpha didn't move despite himself, so Arthur did his best to force himself to relax. "You can move." he finally said, wrapping his arms around the other's neck.
He started slow, taking care as to not tear too much. Arthur was in pain for the first few thrusts, the sensation still new to him. However, the brit soon found himself panting and moaning alongside his alpha, moving in time with his thrusts. Alfred with time began to pivot his waist, aiming for the englishman's sweetspot. Arthur let out a series of scream-like moans, whimpering into the other's chest, arching his back, begging the other to hold onto his waist and not his legs. Alfred gripped his hips and stopped thrusting, twisting the other onto his stomach and continuing to make love.
Arthur had a face full of pillow before he knew it and he struggled to prop himself up. The prince used the hips as leverage and applied much of his force there, gripping it with an iron like hold and using it to slam his cock into his cave. Arthur finally decided to let the his hands grip the sheets as his chest pressed against the mattress. He struggled to breathe a little, and he panted breathlessly. The brit jerked as he felt warm lips on his back. He moaned, shaking his arse up and down as the other thrusted in and out. The American gasped, the little movement making a big difference.
Arthur swore as he was lifted by the waist and put in another position, this time on Alfred's lap. "Alfie, stop moving me so much or I'll break." He didn't receive a response, just the American thrusting into him with new life and strength. "Ah...AH! NGH! AH! AHHH~"He wrapped his arms around his mate's shoulders and kissed him, whimpering into the other's ear. "Ah AH Alfie... Alfie... I'm gonna... I can't.." Arthur let his head rest on Alfred's shoulder. "Please hurry..." Arthur felt like his cock was about to explode and he wanted to cry. He let the tears fall, moaning until his throat was hoarse and his lungs were empty. After a few more pumps he came, screaming his lover's name.
Alfred came soon after, kissing his head and pulling him in for a hug. "Was that your first time?" He asked breathlessly, wiping away the tears "Did I hurt you?"The brit only nodded.
"Only a little, but as expected since you're so... large." He panted, kissing the other's cheek, blushing. "And yes, that was my first time..." He frowned a little, embarrassed for his lack of experience. Alfred smirk.
"That's what I wanted to hear. I don't know how I would've handled the thought of someone else doing that with you." He sounded possessive, with a hint of jealousy. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nodding his head in agreement.
"I'm tired, love." He said with a yawn, burying himself in the other's arms. "I wanna go to sleep."
"Okay, Love you."
"Love you too."
