Spring had come again, and with it came the beautiful blossoming of flowers and the cheerful songs of birds. The townspeople were beginning to put out the decorations for the annual spring festival, complete with silky ribbons and bouquets of cut flowers and tables for the assortment of food that would be set out for all to enjoy. Space was being cleared for the dancing that always took place, and musicians were tuning up their instruments in preparation. Usually, the two Princes would come down into the town to help with setting up, filling the fields with their laughter and voices, but this year, only Matthew arrived. He carefully avoided any questions about where Alfred was and why he hadn't come.

The reality was that Alfred had been spending more and more time alone, either in his rooms or the gardens or immersed in various books in the castle library. That last one was the most confusing to his parents and brother and servants, for Alfred had never shown any great interest in books before, but now he always seemed to carry one around with him. His responses to questions were curt and blunt, and he refused to meet with any of the young women his mother tried to introduce to him. Though he used to have a large appetite, he only picked at his food. His face became hard and grim. Smiles were few and far between. The cheerful, happy temperament that he had been so loved for had vanished into thin air. He carried out all of his responsibilitues with more fervor and determination than he used to, but there was no joy in his movements. Something had changed, something huge and something bad, and no one but Alfred had any idea what it was. Anyone who asked about it was either ignored or glared at, and the inhabitants of the castle quickly stopped asking.

Time went on, and soon enough, the day of the spring festival was upon them. Even the newly reclusive Crown Prince wasn't foolish enough to refuse to go, but though he arrived in the royal carriage with his family and was dressed in fine but more casual clothes, his face was set in a neutral, impassive expression. The townsfolk who approached him to talk ended up shying away, and even the young ladies who had been so desperate for his attention during the years before left him alone. That was fine by Alfred. He sat off to the side of the dancers, a history book propped open on his lap, and lost himself in the words written on the page, waiting for it to be time to return to the castle.

Before long, though, he heard the telltale sounds of someone's feet approaching, and then the creak of wood as that person sat down on the chair beside him. He didn't look up from his book. If they had something to say to him, they would say it, and then they would both go on with their lives.

"Alfred," came Matthew's soft voice, "please tell me what's wrong? You're worrying me."

Of course it would be Matthew. Alfred could never just ignore his brother, not after all they'd been through together, so he closed his book with a sigh and looked up into worried violet eyes. "It's nothing, Matthew. I'm just a little tired. Don't worry about it."

"Stop acting like I'm stupid," Matthew snapped, and Alfred winced. When his brother's voice developed that tone, he knew he wasn't going to be able to lie his way out of the conversation. "I know something is wrong. I just don't know what. Is this about finding a wife? Did something happen?" He reached out to lay one hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Please, Al, just tell me."

Alfred sighed again and shook his head. "It's not what you think, Matt. Talking about it isn't going to do anything." No, the only thing that would help him was Arthur's return, but it wasn't like that was going to happen any time soon. "I'll deal with it myself."

"Oh." Matthew frowned, his gaze searching across Alfred's face. "Can you at least tell me what it was? We don't have to talk about it any more than that if you don't want to, but I hope you do. I'm worried about how sad you've been acting recently."

Chuckling humorlessly at that, Alfred set his book back on the table behind them and turned to fully face his brother. "You really want to know?" Matthew nodded. "Then fine, I'll tell you. It is about getting married. I met someone, Matt, I met someone and they were everything I ever wanted. It took me a while to realize it, but when I did, I knew they were the One."

"Then why don't you tell mother?" Matthew asked, confused. "She'd be ecstatic to know that you found someone!"

"She wouldn't approve. This person… They're not what people expect to see in a Queen, and they knew it. When I told them that I loved them, they turned me down because it would never work between us. We would never be accepted if we got married. They walked away from me because they weren't willing to take the throne from me." Alfred's hands clenched into fists in his lap. "But I would have given up the throne for them."

"Alfred, you keep saying 'them', not 'she'," Matthew said slowly. "This person isn't a woman, is it?"

"No." Alfred smiled wryly. It hurt his cheeks. "That's not even the biggest problem, though. Even if he were a woman, he still wouldn't agree to marry me. I know his reasons were right, but they didn't make him walking away from me any less painful."

Matthew squeezed his shoulder gently. "He didn't love you back, Al? Then that's his loss."

"He did love me back," Alfred said, voice quiet. "He told me that he did, and he kissed me, and he still said no." Hearing it out loud, spoken by his own voice, hurt more than he'd expected. He drew in a deep, steady breath and straightened his shoulders, staring fixedly down at his hands. "I know he was right, though. I'm going to be the King. Whichever girl mother picks out for me when I turn twenty will be a good Queen, I'm sure of it. And right now, I need to focus on performing my duties as the Crown Prince, not stupid children's stories about true love and happily ever after. I'm too old for that. The future King can't get caught up in-"

The slap caught him by surprise. He lurched forward and sideways, clutching one hand to his stinging cheek, mouth open and eyes wide. Turning to stare up at Matthew, confused and hurt and feeling like something important inside of him had cracked, he hunched over himself defensively. "What was that for?"

"For being an idiot," Matthew told him. His hand was still hovering in the air where he had slapped Alfred, as if getting ready for a second round if need be. "I don't know exactly what this man of yours said, but he was an idiot, too. Alfred, if you love him, because I know you still do, no matter what you're trying to show, then what are you doing here? This isn't where you want to be. You want to go find him, don't you? The Alfred I know, the Alfred I grew up with, would never just give up like this. Where did that Alfred go? I bet the miserable, broken one here in front of me isn't the same one that your mystery man fell in love with. He walked away from you and told you not to follow. How do you know he didn't want you to chase him?"

"Matthew…" Alfred stared up at him, breathless and startled. Whatever had cracked inside him before was beginning to break, and in his chest, something warm and soft was beginning to leak out. He recognized it, and it both terrified and exhilarated him. "Do you really think…?" he whispered.

"Alfred." With gentle but firm hands, Matthew grabbed the fabric of Alfred's tunic and stood up, dragging his brother up along with him. "You told me he loved you. I know he still does. You're one of the greatest men I've ever met, and I should know, because I've grown up with you, and I've seen every single part of you, even the ones you don't know you have. No one could forget you, Al, no matter how hard they tried. I have no doubt that this man, whoever he is, is waiting for you. All you have to do is catch him." He patted Alfred's shoulder. "Go get him."

"Go get him," Alfred repeated slowly. Warmth was filling the empty coldness inside of him, and his mind was running through memories of smiles and laughter and sadness and brilliant, bright, beautiful green eyes, and he knew what he needed to do. He grabbed the sides of Matthew's head, feeling the grin that pulled at his lips and spread them wider than they had been in months. "Gods, Matt, you're right! You're so right. What am I doing here? He's out there somewhere. He could be waiting for me. Hell, Arthur's waiting for me!" He shook his brother once. "Gods, I could kiss you but I won't, because that would just be strange."

Matthew laughed. "That's probably a good thing. Now go on, Al! Find this man of yours and show him you mean it."

"Yes. Yes!" Alfred shook Matthew again, his smile widening even further if that was at all possible, before pulling back and turning and taking off across the field, scattering dancers and vendors and anyone in his way as he ran. All of that warmth and energy flowed through his veins, pouring out through him, shining through his skin and his smile, and he felt more alive than he had in a long, long time. Every villager that he passed stared at him in awe.

"Alfred!" the King called out as Alfred ran past. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Sorry, father," Alfred yelled back, out of breath and smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt in the best way, "but I'm going to go do something that I should have done ages ago, and not even you can stop me now." His father called after him again, but he didn't hear the words, and honestly, he didn't care.

It felt like only seconds before he reached the edge of the fields where the horses were stabled. The guard tried to stop him, but Alfred vaulted over the side of the fence, landing on both feet inside and racing over to the nearest horse, a beautiul white one. He didn't pause to grab for a saddle, just swung himself up onto the creature's back. It reared in surprise. He hung on for dear life and grinned like a maniac, and when the guard ran in, he waved. "Sorry about this. I'll bring it back, I promise!"

And with that, he was off. The horse galloped through the fields, around crowds and past houses and farms. Alfred could hear cries of surprise and confusion, but overtop of all of them, he could hear Matthew's voice, screaming, "Go get him, Al! Go get him!"

A/N- And chapter five. No Arthur in this one! But lots of Matthew.

Thank you all so much for the constant support for me and this fic. I never expected it to get this popular this fast! I hope I can continue making it enjoyable, now that we've hit the halfway mark.