Alfred felt numb. After the events of that night, he allowed himself to be led to a room. He didn't even bother looking around through the corridors, or in the room he was placed in. All he did was lie down on top of the bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep. He was out of tears, so he didn't have to worry about crying anymore.

The next day, he didn't bother to get up from his bed. He didn't know what to do now. He'd spent the past couple of days in search of his brother. But he was dead. And this whole adventure started with Arthur. But he was dead, too. Alfred was empty, he had nothing left. Naturally, he would try to get revenge. But Arthur's words were still ringing in his ears. He owed it to Arthur to abide by those words.

Eventually, Alfred slid off of his bed. He emptily looked around the room. This wasn't his last room, this one had a window that shed bright light into the room so the torches didn't have to be lit. When he stepped towards the window, he was greeted by an icy wind that he couldn't feel on his face.

He looked out of the window and found that he had a perfect view of that platform with the rope. It appeared that everyone in the town was surrounding the platform. Alfred saw 3 figures on the platform, accompanied by three knights. Alfred knew they were being executed.

The first one to step forward had snow white hair. The rope was put around his neck and then the platform dropped beneath him. He hung limp there for a moment, and then he was taken down. The next one to come up had long, flowing blonde hair. The same thing happened to him. And then came the man with the chocolate brown hair. None of the Three Musketeers fought back, it was like they knew Arthur had died. It seemed…unnatural almost. Like they were just dolls.

"They deserved it, da?" Ivan's voice came out of nowhere and Alfred felt a hand fall onto his shoulder.

"Uh-hu…" Alfred muttered. He didn't have any words to talk with.

"As did Arthur and Mathew, da?"

"Who?" Alfred spoke and winced at himself. Arthur said he wanted Alfred to forget about him. But it was hard. So hard…

"There you go, balovenʹ," Ivan sounded chipper. "Best to forgive and forget!"

"Right," Alfred sighed. He was still looking out the window, even though most of the citizens had departed.

"You would like to eat, da?" Ivan asked.

"No, thank you," Alfred said hollowly. "I'm fine."

"You need to eat something, balovenʹ," Ivan sounded sad, almost like a plaything of his had just been taken away.

"Later," Alfred sighed. He had yet to look away from the window.

Weeks passed. Alfred learned how to ride a horse. He learned how to wield a sword. And he was beginning to learn how to use a bow and arrow. He had been given a wardrobe of different colored tunics that all looked the same and a lot of black pants. He was no longer given meals in his room, he ate with Ivan in some grand dining hall that Alfred was always forgetting the location of.

During the weeks, Alfred had gone with Ivan and discovered several witches. One was a 10-year-old girl. And Alfred didn't feel anything when her head was severed right in front of his eyes.

It was a rare thing for Alfred to be alone, there would always be a knight at his side when he went about the castle. Always one stationed right outside of his room. He had found that Ivan was avoiding him now, probably because he was no fun anymore with his spirit broken. However, whenever Alfred was alone, he couldn't help but think. Think about that night on top of the tower.

Arthur had talked like he knew what he was doing, moved like every step was planned, and didn't even act like himself right before he fell. Not that Alfred knew him well before that, but he had no idea Arthur would want him to work with Ivan. Or forget about him.

And when Arthur kissed him… Alfred had never loved somebody in the past, so he didn't know what it felt like. But he was pretty sure that was it. The way he felt those butterflies in his stomach and how he forgot that the rest of the world was there. It only lasted about 2 seconds, but it felt like forever.

Why the hell did he have to fall‽

Alfred already felt like his heart was smashed to pieces when he had to watch his brother get killed. But when he watched Arthur slide down the side of the tower, he could feel what little was left in his mind fall with him.

It was raining again, Alfred noticed one day. The world was more gray than usual as he walked like a ghost through the hallways. He slowly walked to the stables, he recently learned what that word meant, and found his horse. He petted it and wondered when he would ever give it a name. Normally, he would have named it Tony, but that name made him wince whenever he thought about it. Other than Ivan's, there were 5 horses. All of them had a coat of either brown or a light white. Alfred's however, had a red tint to it. It was mostly red, apart from some white spots on it.

He left the stables and went back in to the palace, the rain was starting to dampen his hair and that brought back some bad memories.

He decided to go back to his room until it was time to eat. He changed out of a green tunic and into a blue one and sat down at the desk. He sat there for so long, he accidentally fell asleep.

He dreamt about his town, back when he was little.

"Hi Alfred," Abigail giggled. Alfred was sitting on the edge of the lake, his feet in the water. He was poking a stick in the water to see if he could catch anything. Alfred looked up happily. Abigail was his only friend, other than Mathew. "My mom made me a new dress, what do you think?"

She spun around to give Alfred a good look at the white dress that was littered with pink flower designs. The dress went down to her shins and he noticed that she wasn't wearing shoes.

"Where are your shoes, Abby?" Alfred asked and Abigail wrinkled her nose in disgust at his nickname for her.

"My name is Abigail, Alfred," she said, but then quickly resumed smiling. "And I outgrew them. Mommy says that I'm gonna grow up to be a big girl!"

"Yeah? Well my brother says I'm gonna grow up big and strong!" Alfred puffed out his chest.

"He's weird," Abigail teased. "He can't be 8, he looks too young."

"Well he is," Alfred stuck his tongue out at Abigail.

"That's not nice!" Abigail whined.

"You're not nice," Alfred argued. "Mathew's my brother! Don't talk about him like that…"

"I'm just saying what everyone else is!" Abigail yelled, tears in her eyes.

"Well no one else is saying that!" Alfred crossed his arms in front of him.

Abigail looked down at the ground and kicked at the grass.

"I'm sorry…" she muttered.

"S'okay," Alfred said, turning his attention back to the water. "Who else is saying that?"

"Mommy and Daddy, the priest, the pig guy…a lot of people," Abigail sat down next to Alfred and started into the water with him.

"What's so weird about him?" Alfred asked.

"Some people overheard your mom talking…" Abigail muttered. "She was talking with Mattie. About how he and you are different and that he had to lie. She said he's gonna have to leave eventually to protect you two. Everyone's acting weird around you guys now."

"And you're still talking to me?" Alfred could feel himself starting to sulk.

"Well, yeah," Abigail smiled softly and Alfred felt her scoot towards him. "You're fun to hang out with."

The scene seemed to almost melt away and turn into something else right then. The green grass turned to stone, the blue sky turned to stone, Abigail disappeared and seemed to flow into the wall.

Alfred was still a kid, but he was in a chamber that he couldn't remember. He saw someone who looked a lot like his brother, but a lot older being shoved around by tough guys wearing metal. Alfred looked behind him and he saw a creepy looking man with purple eyes and a scarf. He looked to be watching the scene before them with joy.

Alfred looked back to the commotion and one of the brutes covered in armor pulled something out. It looked like a long, sharp strip of metal attached to a gold handle. And then the boy's head was chopped off. It rolled to the floor and reached his feet before it disappeared.

Alfred felt something wet hit his nose. And then his head. He felt more and more drops until it turned into a sudden downpour that drenched Alfred to the bone. The floor in front of him dropped off and fell. The people tumbled down to what looked like an abyss.

Someone was screaming at him and Alfred looked over the edge of his floor. Someone was clinging onto the floor, he was barely holding on and slipping fast. All of his body was splattered with blood.

"A-A-Alfred!" the man screamed. He had very messed up blonde hair and it appeared to be soaked with blood. He had green eyes that were pleading into Alfred's. "Help me!" he pleaded. But Alfred just stared.

Alfred felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see the man with his scarf.

"We will go now, da?" the scarf-man giggled and made Alfred turn around, the man clinging to the floor forgotten.

"A-Alfred!" the man screamed once more, his voice was getting further and further away, like he was falling.

"Arthur!" Alfred stood up, slamming his hands onto the desk. He was safe and sound in his room, he was all grown up. "Oh, shit. Shit, not again," Alfred began muttering and he held his head, sitting back down in his chair. "Why?"

This wasn't the first time he had had the nightmare where Mathew and Arthur died. Alfred knew that wasn't how they died and he didn't know why they had to die that way in his dreams. Alfred felt like crying, but he knew he couldn't do that.

"Excuse me, sir," Alfred looked up to see a knight standing in the doorway. It was time to eat.

"Right," Alfred cleared his throat. "Right, coming." He stood up and soundlessly followed the knight through the hallways. It was still raining outside and the world was still gray.

Once in the dining hall, he slumped in a chair and poked at his food. He was always like this. He had barely eaten in the past few weeks. The table was quiet, as usual. All that could be heard was the clinking of forks and knives on plates. That was, until the peace was disturbed by a loud voice that seemed to be yelling from a distance.

"Is this really what you do when you're not on a witch hunt?" that voice sounded familiar to Alfred and he looked around, trying to find it.

"дерьмо," Ivan muttered.

"Rather boring, in my opinion," the voice sounded cocky and Alfred stood up, still looking around. He could feel something he hadn't felt in a while. A smile.

Alfred stood up. "Arthur?"

"она не может быть…." Ivan muttered again.

"Alfred, turn around, you idiot," Arthur's voice chuckled.

Alfred obeyed and sure enough, leaning against a doorway was Arthur. He was grinning, his green eyes seeming to sparkle. He was sitting there like nothing had ever happened to him. Like an arrow never pierced his side. Like he had never fallen off the side of a tower. The world seemed to wash over with color again and Alfred could nearly contain himself. Arthur had clearly changed his clothes. His cloak had turned red and his shirt and pants were blue. His boots were white.

"Arthur!" Alfred yelled out and discarded his chair and his dignity as he ran over to Arthur. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him as tightly as he could. Alfred could hear him wheezing from lack of air, but he didn't care. Arthur wasn't dead, he could feel him and he could hear him and he was back.

Before Arthur had a chance to say anything, Alfred released his hug slightly so that he could go face to face with Arthur. And then Alfred lightly placed his hand behind Arthur's head and leaned forward to kiss him. Arthur didn't fight, or tried to back away, much to Alfred's relief. In fact, he kissed back.

Alfred reluctantly pulled away after a few seconds, remembering there were other people in the room. He pulled Arthur into another hug.

"I love you, Arthur," Alfred said, holding on to Arthur like he was afraid he would lose him again.

"Good to know that, love," Arthur grinned. "You're over that feeling you get when you touch me, I see."

"That feeling is nothing compared to what I felt when I had to watch you fall," Alfred muttered, holding on to Arthur tighter. He still felt that feeling, but it seemed like he was used to it now or something. It didn't affect him, almost like it was a numb feeling. It really didn't bother him anymore.

"Impossible," Alfred could hear Ivan behind him and he turned around quickly. Ivan was standing, but he was still at his spot at the table.

"What's the matter, Ivan?" Arthur grinned. "Never seen a dead man before?"

"So," Alfred spoke, pulling out his sword and pointing it at Ivan. "Does this mean I can hate Ivan again?"

"Yes, but we need to get moving. Now," Arthur said, grabbing on to Alfred's wrist and tugging him into the hallway. Alfred nearly dropped his sword and the dining hall left his sight. "We need to get to the others."

"Others?"

I told you everything was going to be okay! Arthur's alive! And without a scratch on him. Details in the next chapter!

And now for something special. I'm gonna be doing a sequel to this thing, if people can figure out a little clever thing I'm doing right now. So just pay close attention to the characters, okay? My clever bit has started in this chapter and will continue in the next one!

And please review. You all made my day yesterday when I came home from school and saw all those reviews waiting for me. You totally got me out of a writer's slump! I love you guys with all my heart!

And I don't own anything...as usual...