1 week and a half later...

Alfred woke up to the sound of a knock on his door. He groaned as he pulled on a robe and opened the door to see Davie standing there awkwardly with white gloves on. "What did I tell you about coming here in the middle of the night?" He groaned, moving to slam the door. Davie pushed the door so it wouldn't close further, and to annoy the prince.

"First of all, it's well past noon." Davie stated, and the prince looked up at him blankly. "Secondly, the search party has returned. Chancy said he found something." Alfred gasped and nodded quickly, rushing to put on his trousers, blouse, jacket and crown. He splashed water on his face to freshen up a bit and rushed out of the room, following Davie. The maids in the hall of the Grand Palace watched as their beloved future king ran to the great hall. He eventually pushed open the double doors and slowed to a stop in front of Chancy, whom he appointed search party leader. The small omega was perhaps Arthur's best friend, there was no better candidate for the job, excluding himself of course.

Chancy bowed respectfully before speaking in broken english. "We were looking the courthouse of the city Arthur went missing in. When looking around we seen a room we never seen during our visits of before. We tried opening it up, but it was closed shut, no matter what we tried."

"You said you found something. What did you find?" Alfred barked, and Chancy breathed in slowly, picking up where he left off.

"We found a witness." He deadpanned stepping to the side to reveal a young beta male aound 11 years old. "He says he was dusting around the corner when he saw Arthur and the mayor enter the room. He looked them until Arthur began to look too around, so he ducked. By the time he looked up again, the kidnapper had already closed the door." The young boy had blonde hair, and his blue eyes seemed nervous. Alfred needed to change his demeanor if he wanted to get anywhere. He went down on one knee and smiled kindly to the boy, beckoning him forth with his fingers. The child nodded as he stepped forward. The prince placed his hands on his shoulders and chuckled.

"My name is Alfred, what's yours?" The boy bit his lip before speaking.

"My name is Edward." He answered softly. The prince noted his british accent, and he couldn't help the way his chest tightened.

"How old are you, Edward?" Alfred asked softly, and child puckered his lips, looking up as if he were thinking about it.

"I'd say around 11 years old, but I can't be too sure now." He said with a soft chuckle. Alfred felt his eyes burn; Arthur would say things like that to attempt to lighten the mood.

"Can you tell me what you saw the day my mate went missing?" Alfred needed to keep his composure, he could slowly feel it slipping.

"Yes, of course." he said excitedly. "I was dusting, and then I saw Mayor Deen and your mate Arthur Pendragon walking together. I can hear some of the conversation as they walked towards the black doors your friend was talking about. They said your name a few times, but they laughed a lot." He stopped when he noticed a tear slide down Alfred's face. Of course he felt it, but he wasn't going to do anything about it. "Are you okay, my liege?" He asked, and Alfred nodded.

"Yes, I uh... what happened next Edward?" The child eyed him warily before continuing.

"Then mayor Deen needed to use the bathroom, but when she came back, her clothes were all ruffled and her hair was different. Ms. Deen never wears her hair in a ponytail, whoever it was that came out of the ladies room put it up in a pointail. Then she stopped telling jokes, and ms. Deen never stops telling jokes." He explained, and Alfred nodded. "When they walked past me, ms Deen didn't look the same either. Her skin was very dry and her eyes were dark brown."

"Her eyes are dark brown, aren't they?" Alfred asked, looking back. The brit frowned, nodding.

"She had dark brown eyes, but they are always brown eyes. The person with your mate had eyes that changed color."

"What?"

"Yeah. When they walked by, her eyes went from brown to yellow to brown again. Then she unlocked the door and stepped inside." Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. "You've got to believe me, that person wasn't Ms. Deen." Alfred pursed his lip. Alfred always assumed that the person who took Arthur was one of his brothers, which was why he was leading a fleet to England. However, if Arthur was indeed taken by a woman, he could be anywhere, making it impossible to find him. He squeezed his eyes closed.

"Thank you, Edward." Alfred said, bowing to the boy. "I know Ms. Deen didn't do it, don't worry." He smiled one last time before he walked away. Davie and Chancy tailed him from a small distance, the prince headed towards his room.

"Alfred, you can't coop yourself up all day. You have duties." Davie said as he caught up. Alfred looked at him with cold eyes before shrugging.

"My only job is to find my mate, so I'm getting my things, grabbing a ship, and I'm searching England."

"Really?" Chancy interjected. Alfred looked at him. "I got a very bad feeling from that door, Alfred. It is definitely portal or something." Davie scoffed.

"No, babe, don't fill his head with that crap." Davie said flatly. "There is nothing supernatural going on. If there were, we would have noticed his absence straight away because witchcraft is only good at killing people. There is no doubt in my mind that Arthur is still alive. Be he in England or Canada, he's alive, and once he can, he'll give us a hint as to where we should go next."

Alfred nodded numbly before, groaning. "I really do hope he's safe."


Meanwhile... Arthur's POV

He picked at his infected hand for a while, waiting for the beast to return with something to eat. The brit had refused to eat the last meal it had offered him because it was raw and bloody. It hadn't brought anything back for him since, and that was almost 4 days ago. The brit could see his bones again, an unfortunate reminder that his life had gotten back on track, that he was destined to suffer. The hunger was painful, forever gnawing at his organs, begging him to eat. Nevertheless he could handle it now better than he did a few days. He was so used to three meals a day with snacks whenever he wanted that once 2 days had passed without food or drink, he began to cry.

However, Arthur doesn't cry anymore, that's just wasting precious liquids, liquids that would be better spent in his body. He had confirmed days ago that he was in England, that he was thousands of miles away from his mate, a mate who is probably still looking on the countryside. A mate who had probably given up by now. A mate who will never find him. So it was Arthur's job to do that himself. He sat up on his knobby knees and paused in order for his legs to prepare for another attempt at breaking the barrier. He slowly stood up and ran, stopping only when a sharp pain coursed through his hand into the rest of his body. He landed on the floor with a harsh thump. He decided to lie there until the beast returned with at least water and some bandages.

The brit was sporting some pretty nasty sores and blisters on his body. Many of the scars had faded, however the brand marks remained, leaving him a total of 7 crosses permanently etched into his body. One on his abdomen, one on his left and right calf, two on his inner thighs, and one one each shoulder blade. Each brand came with their own particular beating, and whenever he looked at one, he could recall the day, the hour and the sequence of weapons it had used on him. The hot wax, boiling tar, the whip, the pipe, the hammer... stones that one time.

When is it coming back?

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

5 hours later...

Where was it?

Arthur was laying down on his side as he heard the rain fall heavily. He stood up and slowly approached the barrier, sticking a single finger out. He reached forward only to receive a formidable shock. He cried out as he sat down. He groaned in annoyance and anguish. Where the hell was it!?

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

1 day later...

The beast still hasn't returned, and Arthur was incredibly thirsty. He looked around the dark cave, which was useless because the fire had burned out hours ago. Where did it go? Did it leave the cave for good? Did it go back to America? Arthur could recall it saying it was the royal sorcerer... Did she leave him here to die? Arthur felt the panic rise briefly before he relaxed again. If he was going to die, he'd prefer if it were natural causes and not at the hands of that beast. There was no way out of this circle, he knew that. Unless someone came to get him... He shook his head wildly. No, no one will come.


Alfred's POV...

He swallowed harshly as his mother continued to speak. Davie patted him on the back as he stood guard, a small action that did very little to help his mood. The middle aged woman with flowing brown hair and chubby... everything really, was standing across the room in a big black and red dress. Her crown was freshly polished and the red jewels flashed in the warm sunlight flooding in from the large stained glass windows. He looked at his mother with cold eyes, who in turn sent him even colder eyes with a cold smirk.

"You are a fool if you think you'll find him. He's probably dead by now. No one would kidnap the future king's mate and keep him alive unless they have a death wish of some kind." She paced around the room and sighed. "There is no point searching England, he won't be there."

"Mother, I appreciate your concern," He stood up as he cleared his throat. "But wherever he is, he's terrified and needs my help." He bowed to his mother swiftly before turning to leave. Davie held the door open for him as he stepped out, but he stopped halfway through the door and turned to look at his mother. "Besides, I can't just let whoever did this get away with it." He grinned maliciously. The Queen quirked a brow before offering the same expression back.

"Then make them suffer."

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

"You and your mother are so much alike it freaks me out." Davie commented over their armor. The two were polishing their worn equipment in the courtyard, and the prince had found them a spot underneath a cherry tree. Alfred shot him a confused look, and Davie shrugged. "I'm serious, cold exterior, twisted need for satisfaction. You guys are sociopaths." He mumbled the last part, but Alfred still heard it, releasing a soft hum. "Oh, and don't even get me started on that. Everyone in your family hums in response to things, but Matthew does it occassionally. You and the queen use humming as a way to, I dunno, tell people you are upset." Alfred rolled his eyes.

"I thought that was obvious... Arthur would ask me why I hummed so much, but it's just a thing. I hum when I have nothing good to say, or when I want a conversation to stop. It's more convenient than saying "I don't want to hear your voice, shut the hell up." He explained with a sigh, and Davied nodded.

"I agree, but I think it translates more into "Don't make me hurt you" than anything else. I see it as a warning sign. You know, the smoke to a fire." He tossed the prince his helmet, and Alfred put it on. "It's been a while since we put on our helmets, huh?" Davie asked, and Alfred nodded.

"Definitely wish I could actually enjoy myself." He complained, and the 2nd in command shrugged.

"We are all worried, so don't worry, none of us are enjoying it yet." He comforted. "Well except Geoffrey and your mother, of course." The prince winced as he said it, but even he couldn't ignore the glee in her eyes as he relayed the tragedy that was Arthur's kidnapping to her. Despite trying to defend her, Arthur was right. He was always right. A large part of Alfred knew he was right all along, but the more sentimental part of him wanted his mate to be wrong. He sighed heavily, regretting every argument he had with Arthur relating to his mother. She does hate his guts.

"The ship leaves in two days. The servants are preparing rations for the trip." He said randomly, but Davie nodded.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come. I can help." He offered. Alfred remembered the conversation they had 3 days ago, when he had told Davie he was going back to England without him. First and foremost, He was offended and angry. He yelled and screamed until Alfred told him that he was the only he trusted with Arthur when he wasn't around, so if the brit happened to wonder into the palace, Davie would protect him from his mother. Alfred would have gone earlier, hitched a ride with Arthur's fake father, who had arrived to the palace a day after Alfred had. He returned to England at the instruction of John, for his safety of course. Alfred couldn't go with him however because John said no, that it was a bad idea or something. He doesn't do anything if John dissapproves of it, which is why he just does things without asking him. But the older man found out and cornered him in his bedroom to tell him firmly that he couldn't go.

"I am sure. Besides, it's a chance for you and your mate to connect again and introduce him to your parents." He chuckled, wishing he would be there to see that whole debackle unfold. Davie shuddered visibly.

"Thank goodness my parents are on vacation to Ireland, if they were here, I would lose my hair." He chuckled.

'How's Chancy holding up?" Alfred asked, for the sake of the conversation.

"He's..." Davie started, but suddenly stopped, scratching the back of his head.

"What's wrong?" Alfred sat up, dusting blades of grass off of his shirt.

"Nothing, It's just... I think he's hiding something from me." He sighed and he visibly deflated. "Whenever I ask him questions, he avoids them and changes the subject. Once I had asked what happened that night a few weeks ago, the night he broke 4 ribs. He tried to change the subject to him wanting to cuddle, but he wouldn't give me an answer. I was meaning to ask Arthur what happened, but then he fell into heat, so... Do you know what happened?"

Alfred hummed as his eyes darted the scenery. The grass was green, the air was crisp, the sun was shining. He needed an excuse. "Ask Chancy again. Tell him that whatever happened that night could aid in the investigation, and that not telling you could be jeopardizing Arthur's safety." He suggested, and Dvaie swayed back and forth, toying with the idea.

"Nah, he would just say he had that night in mind the whole time, and that there was no correlation." He said, and Alfred shook his head.

"No, that's what you would say." Alfred corrected. "Stop projecting on to him, and try it out. He may very well answer you." Davie scrunched up his face.

"I know him, and you do too. He learned English so quickly. It took my parents a few months to be conversational once we moved here from Ireland. He did it in at least a week." He praised, a bright smile on his face. Alfred bit his lip, actually having pulled Chancy aside to question him on his new found intelect. Chancy had told him that he had found a spell to make him speak English temporarily, but it shouldn't last more than a month. He told him to not tell Davie, that he'll tell him himself before 30 days passed.

He was on day 11, time was not in his favor.

"Yeah, he's something alright. But don't get to caught up on that, just enjoy your time together as a family before, well... your family comes home. My mother may be a little hard to please but... Is Chancy a catholic? If he isn't you are screwed." He chuckled and Davie sighed heavily, distress clear. Alfred quirked a brow, eyeing his friend. "Relax, I'm sure whether he's catholic, methodist or whatever, it will be fine. Same God, same rules." The prince shrugged but Davie shook his head, offering a shaky smile.

"He's Pagan." He groaned, and Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Of course he is."

"I can just hear my mother now." Davie layed down on the grass, sighing deeply. "Féach cad atá déanta agat anois, Davie." He had begun to imitate his mother in a squaeky voice, perhaps reciting old lectures off of the top of his head. "Ní mór duit a bheith dÚsachtach a bheith mórálach as a leithéid de creature salach ar ár bhaile, isteach sa chaisleán." He breathed in deeply, taking on the sterner tone of his father. "Anois, ní féidir liom cúram cé chomh maith bhraith a asal, nó conas deas Dealraíonn sé, tá sé ag dul chun é a dhó i ifreann le gach ceann de chuid chlann."

"I can't understnad a word you said." Alfred muttered, and the other huffed.

"She's basically gonna call my mate a heathen!" He said in a very deep Irish accent. "Oh, David O'Donoghue, we didn't break our backs to come to this country just for you to damn yourself and our grandchildren to eternal punishment. Leave him now!" He imitated in a deep irish accent. "We weren't spit on for being catholic just so you can marry out of our faith!" Now his hands were flailing as he spoke, the prince realizing too late that he was getting into a fit.

"Relax dude, I can talk to them if you want, approve of Chancy publicly so they won't be too hard on him." Alfred Offered, but Davie shook his head.

"O please, we know that won't work. Your word is just as good as mine when it comes to my parents, they practically see you as their nephew." He groaned, his accent still deep and rich. "I just pray Chancy can handle them for the first few days, long enough for me to contact a priest who'd be willing to marry us and baptize Geoffrey." Alfred raised a brow at that.

"I assume your raising Geoffrey then, permanently."

Davie nodded. "I talked to Sasha, his birth mother. She's moving to France with her new boyfriend. They met on the ship. He knows about Geoffrey, and doesn't want to raise someone else's child. That was completely okay with Chancy and I, and Sasha." He explained, and Alfred nodded in understanding.

"Who is the father again? I keep forgetting to ask."

"The child was sired by Reggie."

"Oh, he's dead."

"Yea, which is why she can't stand Geoffrey. She only got pregnant so she could marry into a noble family."

Alfred hissed. "Well, good ridance she's gone. Where is Geoffrey now?"

"He's with Chancy right now. They're spending time in our room."

"Why aren't you there too?" Alfred asked, and Davie shrugged.

"Mother-son time is sacred, I don't wanna encroach when they're bonding the way they are. Chancy hadn't seen him for a week."

"That was almost two weeks ago." Alfred deadpanned, but Davie shrugged.

"So, with everything going on, he's a little shook." He rolled to his side. "Besides, I'm on duty right now, as you can see." Alfred breathed heavily through his nose.

"When I was babysitting Geoffrey, I thought I saw a little charm on him." Alfred said, once again, randomly. Davie made a noise that seemed to signify confusion as he sat up. He stayed quite for a moment, so Alfred turned to look at him. The knight looked pensive and his expression slowly darkened, finally releasing a dark groan.

"We agreed on baptizing him. What the fuck?" He muttered, standing up with a groan. "I'll be right back with my son." Alfred blinked a few times, taken aback.

'It's not that big a deal, the castle sorcerer gave me a whole bunch of charms! Look how I turned out." He called as Davie walked away. The Irishman turned slowly to look Alfred in the eye with awkward unbreaking eyecontact.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked. Alfred raised his hands in retreat, and the other walked off. He sighed, well, he tried to fix it, that's all that matters.

~~~~ Wounded Knight~~~~

4 hours later...

Davie didn't end up returning, the prince assuming he was deceased. You can't just take a baby from it's mother, they would never allow it. Alfred was planning to stop by their room but he didn't want to walk in on something... graphic, so he settled for living in suspense. "Arthur" he muttered over his paperwork, resting his head in his arms. "I'm sorry I failed you... again." Whenever he thought about it he hated himself. He was taken from right under his nose, the whole experience surreal. One moment he was there, hanging out with an old friend of his, and the next people are rushing at him telling him that Clara was found unconscious in the bathroom and that Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

He had looked for hours and hours until Francis had forced him into a carriage headed for the palace. He was hysterical, he was yelling and screaming, sobbing and whining until he had seen his mother. When he had seen her, it was as if he could could be a child so he confided in her, told her what had happened, and she comforted him as best she could. She was elated however, he knew that. The flicker in her eyes, she was glad someone had taken her future son in law.

Francis and Matthew are somewhere about the castle, Alfred hardly sees either of them the place is so huge. They spoke briefly yesterday though, Framis telling him not to give up, not until he searched the entirety of England twice. Alfred wouldn't dream of quitting, not now, not after he finally experienced love and how happpy he has been for the last few months. He was going to get Arthur, even if it kills him.


Arthur's POV...

The brit hadn't had water in 2 days, resorting to drinking his own urine. He didn't want to live on this way, his stomach growling at a last attempt to get him to eat. "But there is no food." He said aloud. He took a few shaky breaths, closing his eyes. "God bless my soul, my friends' souls, and the souls of my brothers, amen."

"That's not how you pray."

Arthur yelped as he sat up for the first time in days, looking around wildly in the dark. He panted for a few moments, waiting to see if someone was there. He must have been losing his mind. He curled up into a ball and breathed in and out in order to calm himself down.

"I wasn't your imagination. It's us." Said a different voice, and Arthur screamed as something grabbed his legs, dragging him out of the circle. The brit thrashed and swung. The beast, the beast has returned to finish him off! He puched and kicked, ignoring the laughs and agitated grunting. "Arthur relax, it's me Alllister. What the fuck?" He pulled away, snapping his fingers. Soon the cave was illuminated, the brit hissing wildly as he rolled over to his stomach in order to bury his face in the ground. "I thought I felt you near here." He scooped the smaller up into his arms, the blonde not offering much protest.

"It hurts." He groaned, wrapping his arms around the other's neck. "I said it hurts." The redhead grunted in understanding, but he did nothing.

"I know, but it hurt when you rejected us, and when you sicked your French poodle on us. This is the least you deserve." He said as he marched out of the cave.

"I want Alfred."

"I might be able to arrange that." Allister said. "I might not want to, though." Arthur felt the warm air on his back as they group stepped out of the cave, shaking in discomfort. Did they at least bring some fresh clothes? "Our base isn't so far from here." The brit nodded in confusion before he remembered the redhead could read minds. Is there a bath there? And fresh water? "Yes, we do."

The three older men stopped and Dylan raised his hand, a liquid mercury-like portal appearing into existance. What is this? It's like the mirror on the ship. Allister chuckled lightly. "This, my kid-brother, is our mirror on the wall."

~~~~ Wounded Knight~~~~

2 hours later...

The blonde didn't appreciate his brothers entering the bath with him, scrubbing him down and washing him as if he were a baby. He stormed out of the bathhouse wihout a towel, but who cared, it was only greasy resistance fighters in the area. He made it into the main building, the house Arthur's parents used to live in. Not his childhood home by the coast, but a country house his parents lived in before they had children. It was deep inland, which the brit supposed was a decent hideout. The fields were very grassy and the house was rather large if he may say so himself. It had a few stories, perhaps added after the Kirklands moved out, and it had an abundance of rooms.

The brit was dragged out of his thoughts when he felt a towel wrap around him. He snapped his neck to see Seamus glaring at him. "Have some respect for yourself." He muttered, and the younger scowled at him. Seamus lead him into the house, walking him to his room where his other brothers were magically there before him. "We have questions about what happened."

"Who burned you?" Allister gave him a steely look as he asked, the brit taking a seat on the bed. Arthur bit his lip, grazing his fingers along the cross branded on his abdomen. He looked down at the rubbery skin, cool to the touch. This was the first time he had seen it in days and suddenly it felt so real, that someone really did this to him. His eyes began to burn as he sat and stared at his new blemishes, trying to imagine how Alfred would react to it. He'd be furious at the fact Arthur had gotten hurt, but it wouldn't change the way the way the other preceived him... but... What about their future kids? What if they asked why he got those burns? how? The brit finally let the tears fall.

"Some beast. A Human snake hybrid who kidnapped me on my way to the royal castle. It said it was tasked with protecting the palace, and that no witch will hollow the U.S's holy grounds." He explained. "It kept refering to itself as the castle sorcerer." Dylan approached the brit with a shirt, handing it to him gingerly.

'Well everything else is healing nicely. Don't get too caught up on a few crosses." He assured, and the brit nodded.

"Alfred is probably on his way here." He informed, dressing. The shirt was quite big, reaching a little past his thighs. 'It'll take a few weeks." Seamus shrugged.

"I want to meet him again anyway. By the look of you neck, your heat finally came in." He surmised, and the brit nodded, a light blush on his cheeks. "I'm happy for you, to say the least, but your relationship won't last too long if you can't defend yourself." The younger looked taken aback. Seamus was right though, he knew that. Him being so powerless was nothing but an incovenience to others. "That's why your training starts tomorrow."

"What?" Arthur asked, and the other two brother nodded to, turing to each other.

"Do you have those books we used to use?"

"Yes" Answered Dylan.

"And the knives?" Asked Allister.

"Yep." Answered Seamus.

"Then it is settled." Dylan declared. "You, my brother, will no longer live in fear. We shall train you in the dark arts."

"No" Arthur replied bluntly. "I don't want to kill anyone. I'm not a murderer."

Allister rolled his eyes. "No, but you don't have to necessarily kill anyone. Just hurt them enough to warn them never to cross paths with you again." He groaned. Arthur could sense that they were leaving something out.

"Do I have to give up anything?"

"No." Dylan answered, digging in the drawers for pants.

"Oh..." The younger brit looked around awkwardly at the familiar strangers around them.

"You don't really have a choice except for which one of us teaches you offensive, defensive, and curses." Allister muttered as he polished his nails. Arthur stared at him incredualously. He can't be serious. "I'm serious." Arthur looked down. "If you don't choose, We'll rock paper scissors."

"That's best."

"Okay..."

~~~~Wounded Knight~~~~

The next morning...

Arthur yawned over the breakfast table, sipping on his porridge. He was half asleep, but his brothers didn't look much better, so he didn't feel bad for his appearance. He wore a white blouse left untucked over black slacks. His hair was a wild mess that drapped over his eyes. He looked over to Allister who lazily drank his coffee. "Are you going to teach me first?" the younger asked, and the the redhead slowly turned to him.

"Well, as your defense teacher," he said with a drawl, "It's my job to get you educated on the most important parts of your body. Therefore in a moment or two a few books will land on the table, and you'll study up for a few hours, then you'll transition to offensive magic with Dylan." He explained his schedule to Arthur, who half listened. He was thinking about how many books he would have to read through. "Pay attention, fool." Arthur nodded dumbly.

"You're going to read this book first." He said as it materialized on the table. "That book is your bible, got it?" The younger once again nodded, trying but failing to stop his excitement from showing. "It's gonna get boring real fast." Allister sighed, returnng to his coffee. The brit ignored his words and stared at his face. It was completely blank, eyes almost unblinking.

"Allister?"

"Yes."

"Can you turn your mind reading powers off? Or does it stay on forever..." Allister looked at his younger brother for a while before smiling softly.

"I can turn it off, but that means I turn off my own thoughts too. Completely quiet in here." he knocked on his forehead. Arthur scrunced up his face.

"That sounds awful" Arthur took another sip of his porridge.

"But it's helpful. I Just turn it off when it's time for bed." He shrugged. Arthur nodded.

"Have you ever tried reading a plants mind? Like a Tree?" Allister cleared his throat, sitting straighter, resting his elbows on the table.

'All of the time. That's how I found you. We utilize our surroundings." He answered, a little smug.

"Were you born like this?" Arthur asked, taking another sip. Allister nodded. "Yikes."

"We were all born with something. You?" He asked, and the brit shrugged.

"I guess omnilingualism." He looked up in time to see Dylan smile at him. Arthur tucked a strand behind his ear, looking down. "I found out a few weeks ago, but now I'm fluent in French. I've never tried it with other languages." he explained, and Allister nodded in understanding.

"I wish I could be of some help, but I know no other language." He looked back down at his coffee with the same blank expression. He must have shut down again. The brit couldn't help the pang of sympathy when he turned and saw the others' faces: Grey and depressed. They had every reason not to be happy, and they would need nerves of steel to not get depressed, but Arthur got the feeling that they hadn't been happy for a long time. Allister looked at him with slightly annoyed eyes, his mind reading abilities back on. "I am very happy." He said stiffly, and the younger just nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright. I didn't know we looked depressed." The other two brothers slowly landed their eyes on Arthur, eyes flashing in confusion. "Seamus yeah, but that's expected." He said after a little deliberation. Seamus glared at him before taking a sip of his own coffee.

"If we look so said, why don't you tell us something to lift our spirits?" He suggested, and the brit raised his brows. His life was a shitshow before recently.

"I have no stories of my own..." He mumbled as he pushed a strand of hair behind his ear. "Why don't you tell me something about our parents?" Seamus looked over to Dylan, who was lazily chewing on his bacon. He looked around slowly in a delayed reaction before nodding. Was he okay?

"Dylan is always like this." Allister said quickly, not elaborating further. Dylan cleared his throat, setting down his bacon.

"Dad left the throne for some reason, and he wandered before settling here, in this house." He sounded sluggish, and his statement was littered with yawns. "It was an inn around the time, and it was actually a mile west of here did he find mom, barely breathing." Arthur nodded, looking around the room. It would explain why the place was so large. "They got married, and he took her last name, Kirkland. Mom was a witch who only dabbled a little in the arts, she didn't tell dad. Then they moved to the coast, and, well, you know the rest."

Arthur scratched his head. Why did he leave the throne? Doesn't he realize what he gave up on a whim? Allister sighed. "We don't know why he left, so go easy on the old man." He requested, and the brit redirected his thoughts towards the weather.