2 hours later...
"So you are a French?" The mayor asked loudly at the table. They were having lunch at the town hall, everyone grateful for the food. The brit was tired of eating dried fruits and jerky, glad to be having his turkey sandwiches. He thought at first the entire stay would be uncomfortable because he wouldn't be allowed to speak, but thank goodness Chancy and Matthew were around because he could just talk to them in French and the other wouldn't be able to spot his accent. However, perhaps the mayor noted he was just speaking silently to his companions, and so he decided to interrupt the brit's to start their own. Arthur stared at him for a bit, not really wanting to answer him. "Aww come on!" He was making scene, the brit realized, and he looked at Alfred for support.
"Excuse my mate, he doesn't like talking to strangers." the prince said cooly, draping his arm around Arthur's shoulder. The mayor pouted before continuing his original conversation with the prince. Arthur only heard parts of the exchange, but mayor thompson seemed to be asking for funding.
"All the money nowadays is being directed to the cities. Us little guys aren't getting a fair share!" Arthur bit his lip. The town did seem a bit rundown, he had to admit, and he swore he saw roads being paved on every corner in New York. "And that's insane considering these cities are hosting al of these niggers. A nice little town like ours doesn't even have a single coon." Arthur almost spit his drink, eyes wildly searching Alfred's face. The prince seemed put off, his smile faltered into a frown before recovering. The mayor noticed the change in atmosphere around the prince so he added quickly. "Of course there is nothing wrong with the good negro, but New York is crawling with bad ones." Arthur couldn't hold back his scoff, running a hand in his tied back hair.
Mayor Thompson noticed, and turned to the brit, a wide overly friendly smile. "Mr. Pendragon, with all due respect, you declined to talk with me on the grounds that I was a stranger. Now, I don't know how it is in France, but it's rude for..." he paused, gesturing towards Arthur and Chancy, who was sitting next to him, not paying attention to the conversation. "You get me? It's rude to eavesdrop, especially if your kind is listening in on important alpha business." he said rather condescendingly. Arthur hummed, quirking a brow. He glanced over at his mate with questioning eyes. Is he going to let him talk however he wants? Alfred cleared his throat, getting the mayor's attention.
"I don't know how it works in this little town," he said loudly so almost all of the people in the room could hear. The mayor tugged at his collar, loosening his bottons. "But I thought racial slurs were a thing of a past. The cities having more black people wouldn't affect how the crown funds it's provinces, we simply give money to places that makes money. All this town has to offer is grain, but so does the 5 counties we've passed before this one. However, none of the people in those towns even brought up race when they asked for more funding. Neither did they directly insult my mate. They provided statistics about how much they can produce if more money were funded, and they had layouts ready for potential public works." He chastised, and the brit smiled. That's my boy.
"Well," The mayor said, head held high. Arthur smirked at his foolish pride. "Perhaps we can prepare that for you before you leave, but for now let's focus on our delicious lunch the sweet women from the women's center made us." He suggested, motioning at the table of food and delicacies. Alfred looked unimpressed.
"Not before you apologize to my mate and the 2nd commanding officer of the French Imperial Army." He said, crossing his arms. The mayor hesitated under the stares from the crowd in the room, breaking into a sweat. The officials in uniform looked at him with confident eyes; there was no way he was going to apologize to an omega who didn't know his place, or so they thought. The mayor must have been used to walking over others, so often that he couldn't stop himself from doing it in front of royalty. The mayor broke into a smile.
"I did not mean to offend them, I'm sure they understand." He offered. The prince shook his head.
"That's not an apology." He said bluntly, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip. "Apologize correctly or else." He said suddenly, causing the eyes to snap to the prince instead of the mayor. He had a certain threatening gaze locked onto the mayor, releasing a long almost hypnotic hum as he waited. "I don't have forever." He reminded. The mayor nodded quickly, turning to both Chancy and Arthur.
"I sincerely apologize from the bottom of my heart." he stuttered. Arthur nodded, and Chancy followed suit, though he had no idea why or what the conflict even was. The prince sighed, relieved, raising his cup in the air.
"Thank god, I thought I was going to have to hurt you." He chuckled darkly, and the mayor visibly gulped. "My patience never lasts that long, you must be a lucky cat." He continued to prod loudly, the mayor's cheeks heating up. "Hey guys, I want to make a toast!" He declared, and everyone was obliged to come near. Everyone raised their glasses, including the mayor, though reluctantly. "Cheers to the grace of god, how far our counrty has come, and obedience." Everyone cheered, and it appeared the mayor's pride had taken enough blows. He stood up suddenly, his silverware clinging against his plate.
"If you'd excuse me, I must use the restroom." He shuffled off quickly, and the brit couldn't keep back his giggle. He could feel the prince gazing at him, so he turned to see worried eyes. The brit shot him a questioning look. He wasn't feeling guilty was he?
"Are you okay?" The prince asked. Arthur nodded before shooting a look that seemed to ask the same question. "I'm fine sweetie." He said, taking another sip of his wine before twisting his face. "This wine is awful though, very bitter." he said, setting down the glass. Arthur actually liked the wine here, better than the really sweet ones Francis keeps on whipping out. "But it tastes like something you would enjoy." He added, tracing his thumb over the brit's gloved hand. "You really like bitter things." Arthur smiled, humming in confirmation. The prince chuckled. "If you want I can request a cart of this wine to be placed in our cart so you can enjoy anytime." Arthur shook his head. He didn't like it that much. "Okay."
2 hours later...
The brit and prince settled down in their carriage, awaiting for the driver to start the horses. Matthew had returned to his carriage already, and Chancy and his men were on their horses, ready to ride to the next town. That town should be the last stop before the capitol. Arthur felt butterflies just thinking about the palace, but he forced himself to calm down; he had promised Alfred that he was going to push aside any prior animosity he had towards his mother and have an open mind towards the woman. Hopefully she would do the same. Arthur felt his dress get caught up in something, looking over to see a wooden crate of wine. Of course the prince would request it; the brit still couldn't help the smile though.
Alfred grabbed the other's hand, pulling lightly on the gloves. The brit looked up at him, confused, the prince explained himself. "We won't pass another town for a day or two, you don't need to wear this anymore." He said, tugging down the brits engageantes. Arthur pulled the pins out of his hair, turning around so his mate could have access to his back.
"Unlace me."
The prince slowly undid the dress, being careful not to accidently tear another of the brit's dresses. After he loosened the dress, he began to loosen the corset the brit forgot he had one. However, once the last loop was released, the brit let out a big breath of air he didn't even realize he was holding in. "I hate those things." Alfred muttered to himself as he lifted the brit's skirt. Arthur was going to protest until he felt the cage... crinoline? That's what Alfred had called it. Well yeah, the crinoline loosened and eventually fell to his feet. Before the brit could even move the dress was being pulled over his head, just as the carriage began to move, causing the brit to lose his footing and falling on top of his lover.
"Sorry." He said once the dress was off. He was almost naked, save for his underwear. "I think John left me a change of clothes in that corner over there." He pointed, politely commanding the prince to get it. Alfred leaned over, groaned dramatically, and sat up, handing over a simple white blouse and and black trousers. He put them on quickly before neatly setting his gear aside, resting his head on the prince's lap. "Thank you for defending me." Alfred hummed, raking his hands through his hair.
"I mean... it's my job to protect you and put that bastard in his place, so..." He said softly, looking out of the window. "My country is so pretty." He muttered.
"You always switch, depending on your company" Arthur said suddenly, unthinkingly. "Your possesive pronouns. When with your friends you say our country. When your with me, you say my country." He turned so he could face Alfred's stomach, snuggling in.
"Oh..." The prince sounded uncomfortable. "Does that offend you, I can stop referring to it as mine if you want." Arthur shook his head.
"No, no need. It is your country. You were born and raised here, you have the right to say it's yours, I see no offense in that. I just find it interesting is all." He closed his eyes, really tired. "I think I might be falling asleep soon." Alfred hummed before flicking his cheek. "Ow" the brit groaned, but he didn't move, he was too lazy.
"If you sleep now, it'll ruin your sleep pattern. We just have 8 more hours until bed time." Alfred said, taking out some paper work. Arthur groaned.
"Easy for you to say, you actually have something to do. I left all of my books on the ship." He whined, and Alfred huffed.
"You should have brought them with you." He countered.
"I know."
"You can help me if you want." He offered, and the brit shook his head.
"I'm an Idiot, there's no way I can help you." he laughed, but the other growled lightly.
"Don't say that, you are a genius." He said, forcing the other off of his legs. "Here." He said, handing the brit half of the paper in his hand. The brit held the 10 or so documents in his hands in shock. He can't be serious, right? "You do that and I do this." he ordered, handing the brit a quill. "Feel free to take small notes on the page."
4 hours later...
"I'd give it to them, the island is so small and the U.S is getting nothing from keeping it really." The brit reasoned, but Alfred shook his head.
"No, that Island is giving us a presence in the east. In times of war, that port would be invaluable, that's why Russia wants it. They don't want any U.S territory in their waters, at all. We're keeping that Island." The prince said bluntly, and the englishman nodded, albeit feeling dejected. With every document the prince shot down his responses to it, giving a little anecdote about why he was wrong. The brit let out an annoyed growled, causing the other to growl back softly in response. "What's wrong?" he asked, and the brit sunk in his seat.
"I told you I was an idiot. I haven't gotten a single thing right." He set the papers aside and crawled over to his mate who put down his papers in favor of holding him instead. Alfred nustled his hair, kissing his ear.
"You're not an idiot. It's my fault for not actually telling you about the U.S's stance on foreign affairs, which will take more than a few lessons." He rubbed the other's thigh. "Politics is very complicated, but you have good instinct considering where you are from. Ideal if you were a british diplomat." He said tried to praise, but the brit was confused. Was he trying to say that he was doing okay for a british person? As if the prince read his mind, he clarified. "You're responses to the requests in the documents would be ideal for Britain at the very moment. Let's say Britain still had some islands, and France wants them, because of the war, you're in need of money so you would just sell it to them, especially if the island isn't brining in much revenue. The british as of now don't need to focus on expanding their presence, Britain needs to focus on stabilizing it's economy. Sacrificing land and doing diplomatics favors will help England.'
"Oh..." Arthur guessed it was a compliment. "Thanks."
'So..." The prince started, rubbing his hands up the other's sides. "Are you excited? We're almost home." He said, with a dreamy voice. The Englishman smirked.
"You've been living in the fortress for years right? Are you nervous to see your old home again?" Arthur asked, ignoring the other's question on purpose, he wasn't in the mood to argue or fight over it...yet. Alfred didn't seem to notice, he had on a small smile as he shook his head.
"I'm not nervous, at least not yet. Maybe once all the coronation stuff starts." He said softly. "I do hope it happens smoothly... it probably will, we have a few weeks before then." Arthur nodded. "I honestly do think you'll like it there." He added, and the brit quirked his brow. "The palace is way bigger than the fortress, and we have ponds and fancy statues and big gardens with pretty flowers. We have a really spacious prayer room, and a bar. Plus the food there is amazing and it'll surely fatten you up."Arthur scrunched up his nose, but the American paid no mind. "Then eventually we will get married in the main hall, have some children, and live happily ever after." He concluded, and the brit smiled at how cheezy he was. He went along with it.
"How many kids do you want?" He asked, tracing a finger across the other's jaw line. Alfred hummed, leaning into the other's touch.
"Maybe 4 kids. 3 boys and 1 girl would be nice." He answered truthfully, and the brit bit his lip. He wants four kids... Arthur never gave birth, but he was sure giving birth to four kids would be... unpleasant. He sighed.
"How about three?" He offered, and the prince shrugged. "2 boys and 1 girl?"
"I just... always imagined four kids running around, you know." He said lightly. "I can still see them now. A little boy, no more than 5 years old, is sitting on the ground of my study while reading a book you gave him. He has my hair color, probably my eyes, but definitely your nose and eyebrows. He's pale, but not too pale, like a mix of our complexions. His younger brother, around 4 years old looks a lot like him, but the only thing that's different is his hair texture. It's wild and it has leaves in it. You're sitting down the couch breastfeeding our youngest, hopefully a girl. She's still a baby but she has tufts of brown hair that will probably lighten. Then our son, who is about 2 years old, is sitting on my table, coloring something. It can just see it now..." He sighed, looking out of the window. "It's gonna be great."
Arthur couldn't stop his blush. He's really serious about me huh? Arthur couldn't help his happy chuckle as he kissed the other's cheek. It was a sweet image, and hopefully an accurate one. "I love you." he muttered, and the American muttered it back.
"You never answered my question." The American said suddenly and the brit rolled his eyes.
"Don't ruin the moment, git." He sigh deeply, resting a cheek on the side of his face.
"The next town we stop at will be the last." The brit groaned. The moment was ruined. He peeled himself away and sat next to him.
"I know."
"There is really no turning back, you know that?" He said in a serious tone. Arthur turned to look at him but there was no use, he was still facing the window so he couldn't look into his eyes. Of course Arthur knew that. What? Did he think he'd run away? Arthur hummed before answering.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
2 days later...
"I really hate those things." Alfred looked furious as he helped his mate out of the carriage. Matthew hushed him while John told him to fix his face. Arthur smiled and chuckled lightly. He had to be careful not to laugh too hard or else he would over exert himself and get faint. The brit's corset was considerable loose today, only going up 3 laces. His outfit was a deep royal blue, very similar to Alfred's outfit. The englishman, though indeed a little annoyed at the corset, he was grateful he didn't need to wear a dress, he was wearing royal blue pants instead.
"Stop mumbling." John muttered towards Alfred, who in turn pouting adorably.
"Why are we putting him that... thing? It's a deathtrap. Do you know how many women have to live with disfigured bodies due to those things? I prefer Arthur the way he is." He said, but even he knew his little speech wouldn't change Arthur's attire. John and Matthew were so in with the times that they would never get caught outside their homes with the latest trends. Matthew always wore a bodice, and John always sported a monicle.
"We can't all have bodies like Arthur..." He stated flatly, looking at the brit with a smile. Something must have caught his eyes because soon he was looking past the brit, his eyes settle on something moving fairly rapid, seeing how his eyes would dart to and fro. "or Chancy." The brit turned to see what the other was looking at, sighing heavily as he rolled his eyes. Chancy had his back to them as he scolded some soldiers. The men were much taller than Chancy, and occassionally his had to stand on his tippy toes or jump. So whenever he landed on rested on his heels his butt would shake just a little. Some other soldiers seemed to notice, the ones who passed the small frenchman would turn their heads to look at his figure discreetly.
"His body isn't all that." Alfred deadpanned. Arthur looked to his mate, who was still seemingly transfixed on Chancy's bossom. Arthur bit his lip.
"Then why are you still staring at it then? You're studying it as if you're going to write a thesis on it." He questioned playfully, as a kind warning. However, the prince's gaze wouldn't let up, he continued to stare at it.
"Okay, maybe I lied a little, his body is great. However, it's extremely unrealistic for most people." Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Stop looking at him." He ordered sternly and the prince's face snapped to the front, making a popping sound with his lips. "I don't see why it would be wrong for people to aim for those looks. He has desirable features, but really, it wouldn't be too hard to attain. A little bit of make up here and there."He said his two cents with a wave of his hand.
"A little bit of make up won't make most people look like Chancy. It's easy for you to say because you're just about if not more attractive than Chancy." John said as he walked, Matthew nodding in aggreance.
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I started to wear my bodice more often because whenever Chancy and Arthur stand next to me, I either look like a twig, or a whale." he explained, and Arthur was genuinely taken aback. Matthew looked great in his opinion, why would he think otherwise? Because no one is gawking at him?
"Being stared at as if you're a piece of meat isn't as cool as it was hyped up to be." Alfred said suddenly, and Matthew bit his lip.
"It's not the same for Alphas." He said quickly. "You guys are sought after because of how powerful you are. They want you to pursue them, so they stare awkwardly. For everyone else, they can stare all they want because at the end of the day if that alpha doesn't look back, they're not gonna mate."
"They'll end up becoming a prostitute." John added. Arthur quirked a brow.
"I thought most prostitutes were omegas who couldn't have kids. Is it different in the U.S.?" Arthur asked, and Alfred nodded quickly, though he didn't elaborate. "How is it different?" Arthur coasted the conversation along. Alfred looked at him briefly before shrugging.
"Okay, well here in the states, the reasons vary, but it's illegal to harm or displace your mate based on fertility issues. The U.S used to have a problem of Alphas accidently killing their omegas by breaking bones and beating them due to infertility. So we passed a law that prohibited the murder of omegas along with more omega rights and stuff. However, the alphas just began to knock the omegas unconcious and abandon them somewhere far away. So, we made it illegal to do that, and all mateships had to be registered through the government. If a mateship isn't going well, they'll have to anull it through us. Our prostitutes are mostly betas because they're the most abundant class in the U.S. For some reason, omegas are usually born in richer families in the U.S, so they don't go into prostitution. Financially unfortunate betas tend to become prostitues for economic reasons."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Well, you learn something new everyday. England should pass things like that, so omegas actually have a fighting chance." He muttered as he slowed down turning around. "Chancy, are you too busy to walk with us?" he called out in french. The blonde second in command was currently riding on top of a horse, eyebrow quirked at his question. The blonde looked around him for a moment, checking to see if everything was in order. He eventually nodded, riding up slowly beside him.
"Is everything okay?" He asked. The brit shot him a confused look before nodding. Why wouldn't it be? "Sorry, it's just that it's morning and we usually don't talk in the morning when I'm on duty."
"I'm sorry, is it a bad time?" Arthur didn't want to distract him. The French man shook his head. "Okay... Well I'm awfully bored, tell me a joke." Arthur requested, and the Frenchman scoffed.
"My life"
"That's not funny, Chancy." Arthur rolled his eyes. He was always making self depricating jokes 24/7 it was almost concerning. "When you get older you'll regret not having fun in your 20's."
"Oh, and you're living it up now?" The frenchman shot back with a snicker. Arthur again rolled his eyes.
"I am indeed enjoying myself."
"At least that makes one of us. I just can't wait for the capital, Davie and Geoffrey are probably waiting for me." He sighed, irritated. Arthur looked up at him with worried eyes. "I wish these horses and carriages moved faster. I still don't know why we all just couldn't take the boat."
"Alfred wanted to explore the countryside before he'd be trapped in the palace grounds." Arthur answered, and the horserider frowned.
"How convenient for him." He had a hint of disdain in his voice.
"Relax, when we get to the castle, You and Davie could make up for lost time all day." Arthur assured, but the other scoffed.
"Oh please, I'll be lucky to have more than 7 hours of sleep, yet alone free time." He sighed, annoyed. "I swear, if he just went with me for a few weeks back to France I would have no responsibilities." Arthur quirked an eyebrow. He was still angry about that, it was almost a month ago.
"No responsibility except childrearing." Arthur corrected, and Chancy laughed loudly. Alfred glanced back for a brief moment before turning back. "What's so funny?"
"I'm just... I'm not having more than 2 children." Chancy deadpanned with a shrug. "I don't want to. In my family, once you give birth to 2nd child, all the births after will hurt 10 times as much. No amount of medicine will soothe it. My mother descriped having me as one of the most excruciating feeling in her life, and she was burned at the stake once, so..." He explained, and Arthur bit his lips. Hmm
"Um, is it a curse or something?" He asked, and Chancy shook his head.
"It has something to do with life essence." He shrugged. "I never paid attention to my mother when she went on her motherhood rants, so I wouldn't know."
"Why was she burned at the stake?" Arthur asked, looking up again at the Frenchman. Chancy's face contorted into that of uncertainty. "You don't have to tell me." Arthur said, and the blond shook his head.
"The Americans accused her of witchcraft, and they tied her up along with her sisters and lit them on fire." He explained. "It's a long and arduous story, I'll tell you later. She survived, of course, but her sisters didn't, and the Americans who burned them at the stake were rewarded with riches before they left the country."Arthur nodded in complete understanding.
"Don't you just love Americans?" He asked with a roll of his eyes, but then he closed them. "That's hilarious coming from me though. The UK doesn't really have the best rap sheet when it comes to accused witches either."
"Yes, but that was in the past, right? The french people were really the ones behind, they just convinced some drunk Americans to do it for them." Chancy explained. "When my mother was scorched I was already born. We lived in this house, my mother and my siblings, her siblings and their children, about 4 miles from the town, and every week or so young girls would come to our house to... scrap away their mistakes. They would pay my mother and aunts to fix their foolish mistakes, but the town nonetheless despised us for it. I remember the night it happened, vividly, but I'm sure you don't want to know just yet."
"Okay, maybe later tonight?" Arthur asked as Chancy began to lead his horse away.
"Of course."
After about 10 more minutes of walking they finally made it to the town. They couldn't ride all the way there because it was off of the main road and it would be dangerous to try and drive a carriage through the brambles. Arthur didn't mind, he enjoyed the fresh air extremely. He and Alfred linked arms and walked regally towards the crowd of people cheering. Alfred had instructed him that it would be okay to speak with his accent here, but the brit was still a little shooken by the last town that he didn't want to even try it here.
"Relax, john said this town was against the war entirely and it houses a number of british families." Alfred muttered into his ears. Arthur shook his head. "Well, at least stop squeezing my arm, I swear you might pop my muscle." He complained, and the brit tightened his grip.
"I do what I want." He replied. The two walked through the mass of people and now the words could be heard clearly.
"We love you!" a woman yelled.
"He's beautiful" said another. Arthur wasn't sure whether the last comment was about him or Alfred, but he slowly felt himself relax. This place isn't like the other town, it's more liberal. "Is he british? He's so cute!" a man squealed, and Arthur couldn't help his blush. he found himself hoping every encounter from this point on was this welcoming, but he knew that was too much to ask. Arthur looked up at his mate, and he could see the prince scanning the crowd for danger. The brit sighed, Alfred's always on alert.
Eventually the pair and their company made it inside the town's courthouse, one of the only official buildings in the area. The mayor of the town was a kind alpha African American woman named Clara Deen. She had a pretty smile with long dark kinky hair, and the brit had a gut feeling she wasn't a day over 20. How she got this job, she had no idea, but she was obviously well equipped. The town looked operational; infrastructure was good, nice buildings, many stores, beautiful gardens. She was doing a great job. She offered her hand out after she had bowed, Alfred taking it and shaking it firmly. "Long time, Clara." Alfred said, and the brit looked up at him. They knew each other? The mayor smirk and shrugged coyly, before laughing fondly.
"About 3 and a half years, yes?" She said, the two still shaking hands. Arthur stared at them awkwardly, before lokking around the room to spot anything interesting. His eyes were instantly attracted to a colorful fabric on the wall. It had a angular patterns layered across and over each other, looking like a crystal. It had vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. It was certainly not the work of a european man, thats for sure. There was something... it was too simplistic. Arthur didn't mean that in a bad way, it was just not as unnecessarily ornamented as more european fabric. Its simplicity made it beautiful.
"That's an Akwete cloth, produced by the Igbo people. My mother made it for me about a week ago when she left for Nigeria again, so I made it my precious thing." She explained to Arthur, and the brit nodded.
"It's very beautiful. The colors are gorgeous." He praised. The brit looked at the fabric one last time befre turning to the mayor. "Where are my manners?" He offered out his hand. "My name is Arthur Pendragon, nice to meet you." Mayor Deen took it and shook his hand firmly, shooting him a kind smile. It was then did Arthur notice her height, towering over his 5 foot six inches with a staggering 6 feet 2 inches.
"I've known your mate since birth in the capitol." She whispered. "I have so much to tell you about that idiot." Arthur smiled and pursed his lips, trying to hide his excitement. He nodded eagerly, and she linked their arms, walking with him. "Marcus! Accompany the crown prince." She ordered, and another African american in an expensive suit made his way to the prince with a big smile, but not before eyeing with wary eyes. Alfred smiled back at Marcus as if they were old friends, instead of shaking hands, grabbing forearms. They knew each other too?
"Did Marcus also grow up with Alfred?" The brit asked, and the dark skin woman nodded.
"Marcus is my twin brother." She answered. "I am looking forward to getting to know you, Arthur... Pendragon? I assume that name isn't a coincidence." She asked, and the brit puckered his lips before sighing.
"I suppose not. However, you must admit that save for my last name, you would have never taken me for royalty." Arthur chuckled, and mayor Deen joining in. She nodded her head.
"No, I suppose not." The alpha said. "At first when I saw Alfred and you walking in together, I just assume you were some lost aristocrats passing by. I hardly recognized Alfred, he has changed so much." She elaborated.
"Why, does he look that much different?" Arthur was beginning to imagine his strong powerful mate as a wimpy teen boy with a squeaky voice and cute face. His attention was drawn back in when Mayor Deen shook her head.
"No, not really." She said. "Yes he has gotten taller, but that's not saying much since he was 16 the last time I had seen him. It was his expression really." Arthur bit his lip. Did he look too happy? "He used to always have a beaming smile that could blind anyone, and he would laugh at anything. Now his eyes are calculating, and his expression is blank. Why is that?" Arthur pursed his lips.
"I don't know. I had only met him personally in November. I had no idea how happy he used to be. All I can attest to is how his mood has improved throughout the course of our relationship." He did his best to deflect the question, and the alpha seemed to have not noticed.
"Well, since this is your last stop to the capitol, you and your company should spend the night here. I will show you to your room." She said, stopping suddenly. "Actually, would you mind waiting here, I must use the restroom."
"Of course." He answered, and the tall woman scurried off. Arthur had to admit she was beautiful. Her high cheek bones, her plimp lips, beautiful dark eyes... he could go on and on. He sighed, thinking back to the way she and Alfred interacted. They interacted in a way almost awkward, but not quite because they knew each other so well; too well. Arthur was getting the ex-lover vibe from the two, and of course he wasn't jealous, he had no reason to be. Besides, Matthew and hinted earlier that Alfred had his fair share of partners in the past. Arthur knew he had nothing to worry about, the woman didn't seem like the time to try and win Alfred back; she looked classy, prideful and independent. Furthermore she was a busy woman who probably didn't think twice when she had shaken hands with the prince. It was fine, it was all fine. Even if mayor Deen did want Alfred, Alfred would never go for it, he had jut mated with the brit. It's all good... but
His attention was drawn back to reality when he heard Mayor Clara Deen readjust her dress. Arthur noted how her hairstyle changed. "Shall we continue?" The brit nodded at the sight of her smile, there was no way she would do something like that. She lead the brit to a pair of huge black doors. She pulled out a key and unlocked them, pushing them open. Arthur looked around him, no one was in the corridor. "Right this way." She ordered, and the brit stepped inside. The room was illumintated by natural light flooding in through half a dozen large windows. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached the ceiling. There was a desk, a chair, a few plants, nothing out of the ordinary. The Brit walked further into the room, hardly noticing when he began to walked on the shag carpet. From the way his heels sunk into the carpet he knew it was dense and soft.
"This doesn't look like a bedroom. Is this your office?" He asked. "The carpet is quite nice."
"Of sorts, yes, but I only use it on special occasions." She answered, circling the brit, walking around the carpet. Arthur noted how she avoided steeping on the carpet. Was it because of her shoes? Should he take them off? Though he was trying to force it back, the brit began to feel his panic rise a little. She was still a complete stranger.
"Do you mind me stepping on your carpet with my shoes on? I can take them off if you like." He began to walk towards the door until he felt a sudden burst of pain shoot up from his left leg. He yelled as he stumbled backwards, falling on his behind. He groaned as he felt the carpet move from under him, looking uo to see the mayor pulling it away from the center of the room. "W-what...?"
"I have a few questions, witch." Mayor Deen sneered and Arthur felt his heart drop into his stomach.
"What... H-How...?" He stuttered out, still clutching his left leg.
"You can't pass the circle, so you are either a witch or a demon." She explained. "However, I know you are a witch because of this." She rose her hand up, flashing the brit her ring. "It has tribal exorcist symbols on it. When we shook hands, you would have fainted on contact if you were a demon in disguise." Arthur swallowed he looked around the room. It was only know did he notice the stuffed birds, the candles, the animal skulls. He looked down in shock, around him a white circle with unintelligible runes on it.
"W-w-what...?" He panted. Arthur felt so stupid, what did he expect. "Why am I...?"
"What is your real name?" She asked, ignoring his questions. Arthur shook and began to plead. "Shut up, and tell me your name." Arthur whimpered.
"My name is Arthur Pendragon III."
"Why are you here?" She asked, and the brit looked up, shocked. He strugged to gather his thoughts, stuttering uncontrollably. "Why are you here? To infiltrate the U.S gov? To steal power for your pathetic island?" Arthur bit his lip. John had said they liked the british here, was he wrong?
"I-I love Alfred." He said firmly but his heart was pounding, he knew no way out of this. Was this kidnapping? He was never kidnapped before and he was scared. He laughed bitterly at the fact he had known her for less than 8 minutes and she already wants to kill him. "What do you want?" He whimpered, and the mayor scoffed.
"There's a reason why this route was chosen by the queen. I'm the royal sorcerer, all those who travel to the capitol must meet me first." She walked away towards a closet he hadn't noticed before, pulling out a large metal cross and a metal stick. She began to chant under her breath in a language the brit hardly understood, only being able to make a few words. "Blessed god in mighty heaven." She chanted, "Bless this cross and rid all who touches it of their evil intentions."
"Mayor Clara Deen, please!" Arthur pleaded. "This is madness! Alfred and our soldiers are in the building, they'll find you doing this and you will be punished." He warned as he stood up slowly. He flinched as he heard the other laugh loudly.
"No one is going to find us, Pendragon." He said darkly as she threw the large metal cross into the fireplace, the fire suddenly coming alight. "For we are far, far away from them." She said as he spread her arms out wide, spinning in a circle. Arthur was about to comment when the room began to melt around them, bookcases transforming into jagged rocky walls of a cave, the fireplace turning into a firepit. The carpet was no longer a carpet, intead a fouls pale leather mat in the center of the cave. The fire was the only source of light in the cavern, and Arthur darted his eyes around rapidly, screaming in fear.
"Alfred!" Hescreamed, tears filling his eyes. Who was this woman?! Why was she doing this? "Alfred! Chancy! Help! Anyone! Please!" He yelled, crawling around in fear, only for him to run into the circle's barrier and getting electrified by it. He cried out again, his voice echoing throughout the cave. A deep laughter can be heard from the sorcerer who raised her metal stick and crossed the barrier, stepping into the circle. Arthur crawled away from the other, making sure not to cross the white line. "Please, stop! What do you want?! Whatever you want, I'll give it to you!" He begged, and the sorceror grabbed him by his ankles, yanking him closer. "Clara, please!"
The woman laughed again. "I am not Clara Deen." She raised her metal pipe high and swung down on his right wrist. Arthur screamed in agony as he thrashed about, but this... thing was much heavier than it seemed. It sat on his chest so he could hardly breath, and his wild kicks and jabs did no harm to it. The beast swung down once more on his right wrist, Arthur shrieking as he felt it snap. The beast laughed loudly, lifting it and swinging down the pipe on his other wrist. Arthur tried to hide his wrist behind himself, but the beast didn't relent, instead it began to assault his shoulder and face. He screamed in pain but he couldn't, but soon the blows to the head got harder and it became more difficult to breathe through the blood in his nose.
"Get o-off of m-me!" he struggled as best he could against her, but it was no use. Soon she abandoned the pipe and stood up, giving the brit a chance to roll over and crawl away. He was just about to cross over the line when his face was pushed into the dirt, a strong hand holding his face in the foul leather. "MMMAHHA MAHHHA!" He yelled as his dress shirt was torn off and his corset unlaced. "AHHH!" He could feel a great heat near his back, and the brit, through teary eyes whimpered a soft prayer. He was flipped on his back and he could see the beast for what it truly was. It was no longer a woman, at least not completely anymore. It was a hybrid between a woman and a snake and she held a metal cross so hot it was glowling in red fury.
She laughed. "This way you'll never forget who your master is." He hissed as she pressed the hot metal onto his abdomen. No words could describe the utter pain he was feeling, nor the pitch of his bloodcurdling screams. His tears ran hot as she pulled the instrument away, tossing the cross back into the firepit. "No longer shall you serve the devil, witch!" She spat in his face, slapping the blackened raw blistering skin of his new brandmark. Arthur curled up into a ball, preparing for another blow before she walked away, out of the circle. He stayed in the position, sobbing quietly in his shock and fear. He felt as if he had died twice, each inhale causing him great pain.
"Alfred..." he whimpered
"By the way," the beast spoke. "You are definitely near the capitol, just not the U.S.A's." She laughed as she picked up the red hot cross once more, walking threateningly towards the brit once more. Arthur tried to drag himself away but the familiar pain of the barrier shot through him, and as he tried to catch his breath, the beast seared the cross onto his inner thigh. As he screamed the beast wrapped it's hands around his neck and squeezed, silencing him. "Welcome home, Arthur."
