Part the Fourth: The Prince and the Prince
Arthur ran for as long as he could; over fields, and down little lanes, through woods, and across shallow streams. He ran and he ran, and when he could run no more he walked, and when he could not walk he stopped, and sat down upon a tree stump to catch his breath. It was late afternoon, and he was very tired. His back was sore, and his legs were sore, and he was getting blisters on his poor feet, for his shoes were now old and tattered, and far too tight.
"Bugger it all," Arthur said, softly, and winced as he rubbed his heel.
Suddenly, there was a soft snuffling noise behind him, and Arthur turned around to see a great white bear, with big black eyes and a wet nose, standing still and staring at him, just a few feet away.
"Bloody hell!" he cried, for he had never seen a bear in real life before; only in picture books.
"Good day," said the bear, "How are you?"
"I – I –" Arthur stuttered, terrified.
"Do not fear," the bear said, gently, "I will not harm you. My name is Kumajirou. I just wondered where you were going so late in the day, and so alone?"
"I – I am A-Arthur – and I'm searching for my best friend," Arthur said, gripping the tree trunk anxiously. "He went missing quite some time ago; and I love him very much, and only wish to find him safe and sound." And as he spoke, his own words surprised him; he had never said that he loved Alfred before.
"That is a very great shame," said Kumajirou. "Please describe your friend to me. I know all the places around here, and I have seen a great many things – perhaps I have come across your friend?"
At these words, Arthur was no longer afraid, for he simply wanted to find Alfred, and would seize any chance he got to discover what had happened to him.
"Well," said he, "his name is Alfred, he is a little taller than me, and he has bright blond hair, and a stupid-looking cowlick right here," and he pointed to the place on his own head. "He wears spectacles, and his eyes are the same colour as the summer sky, and he is always smiling." He felt very sad, suddenly, describing Alfred; and also very hopeless.
"Do not be sad, dear Arthur," Kumajirou said. "I think – I think I may have seen your Alfred."
"My Al– you've seen Alfred?" Arthur gasped, and his heart leapt for joy.
"Indeed, indeed," Kumajirou replied. "But – I fear he is not your Alfred anymore. For he is married to a prince now."
"He...a prince?" And though Arthur was delighted to hear that his best friend was safe, he could not help the strange little twist in the pit of his stomach at hearing of his marriage.
"Indeed," said Kumajirou. "The handsomest, wisest prince in all the kingdoms! I have been in the city, recently, and I saw the prince on his throne, and I heard him sigh, Oh, for a lover! And so all his maids and attendants came out and made a proclamation that the prince desired a companion, and all the prettiest girls, and the loveliest boys came to the palace to speak to him, but he said that though they were all very beautiful, none of them were his True Love; and so he sent them away."
"But what about Alfred?"
"Patience, patience," said Kumajirou. "We shall come to him. Well now, after about seven days and seven nights had passed, a young man came up to the palace gates, and asked to speak to the prince. And though he was dressed very shabbily, and had only a single bag upon his back, the guards let him in, because he was so very handsome."
"That must be Alfred!" Arthur said, and his heart hurt terribly. "Except it was a sledge on his back, not a bag."
"Ah, you may be true," Kumajirou said, and paused to think. "My memory is not perfect, I am afraid."
"What happened then?" asked Arthur, anxiously.
"Then," said the bear, "the boy was shown into the hall where the prince sat. And he bowed very low, and said, very humbly, that he was all alone, and very poor, and he had nowhere to live; so he begged the prince for work, because he had no money left, and he feared he would starve."
"Oh! My poor, idiotic Alfred," Arthur whispered.
"The prince was intrigued by your young man," Kumajirou continued. "And he promised him he needn't worry; he would be provided for, and he requested that he stayed for dinner. And so he did, and they talked late into the night, and all the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that – for many, many days – and at last it was announced that they would marry; and they did, the day after the announcement was made, and you may be sorry to hear this, but I have never seen a couple more in love."
"I must see him, though," said Arthur, and he thought he might cry, so he opened his eyes, wide, and bit down on his lip, "even if it is just to give him my best wishes, and then punch him in the face. Can you show me the way to the palace?"
"I can," said Kumajirou. "Climb onto my back and we shall go now."
And so Arthur did. He leaned forwards and clung tightly to the white bear's fur, and gripped hard with his legs, and let himself be carried away, the cool air stinging his eyes and cheeks as Kumajirou raced up and down slopes, and over grass, and down a wide, sandy road. The evening wore on until at last, a great, blue city appeared in the distance, twinkling with candlelight. The palace stood at its centre, huge and beautiful, with high spires, and round domes, and surrounded by high hedges, into which was set a tall, golden gate, which was locked – but the bear took him around to the back, and together they slipped through a gap in the hedgerow.
"Now reach up for that window," said Kumajirou, "and pull yourself inside. It is late, so the princes will be abed, I imagine. Go up the stairs to the highest room you can find – that is where I have heard they sleep."
"Thank you," said Arthur, "Thank you so much, Kumajirou!" And he hoisted himself up onto the window ledge – struggling a little, for it was very hard work – and slipped inside.
The palace was very grand. The ceilings were high, and there were marble pillars, and shiny tiled floors, and the staircases were wide, and they sparkled beneath the huge chandeliers which hung from the ceiling. Arthur hurried up the first flight of stairs, as he had been instructed, and hid behind a tapestry when he heard someone coming. When their footsteps faded, he darted out again, and ran up the next staircase – and then up the next one – until there were no more stairs to climb, and when he looked out of a nearby window, he saw he was very high up indeed.
I must be getting close, he thought.
Then he heard a soft noise, like quiet voices, around the corner, so he scuttled over there and peeked out, but there was nobody to be seen; just a big white door, with lovely flowers carved into the wood.
"This," he thought, "must be the princes' bedroom, for there are no more stairs, and I'm bloody exhausted. I shall just have a quick look."
And he twisted the doorknob and, to his delight, the door was not locked, so he pushed it open a crack and looked inside.
There was a soft lamp burning there upon a small, white table, and the curtains were thick and royal blue, embroidered with thin gold thread, and the ceiling was painted to resemble the night sky. And the bed –
Arthur's mouth dropped open.
For there, upon the bed, lay a tall, handsome, blond-haired man, his thighs spread and his hands moving slowly, lovingly over the skin of another blond male, this one with a small beard, and long fingers, and a very sly smile upon his face. He lay between the other's legs, slowly rotating his hips, and he kissed him and kissed him and kissed him upon his neck.
"My beauty," murmured the man with the beard, and the other tossed his head to the side, and moaned in utter pleasure –
And then his eyes opened, and two things became very clear.
Firstly, he was not Alfred. And secondly, he had been –
"Oh!" gasped the man who was not Alfred, but looked strikingly similar. "Fr-Francis, stop!"
The second man, Francis, raised his head. "Matthew, my love, whatever is wrong?" But then he caught sight of where the other's gaze lay, and so he looked towards the door, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Arthur. "You!" he called imperiously, "come here, now, before I call my soldiers!"
Arthur's heart sank. Clearly, this was the prince – or rather, these were the princes. How was he going to get out of this one? And yet he had come so far...
He set his jaw, threw his shoulders back, and pushed the door open a little wider before marching into the room.
The prince named Matthew scrabbled for a blanket to cover himself with, blushing to the roots of his hair. Prince Francis did not.
"How dare you disturb my beloved and I?" he said, and wrapped a possessive arm around his husband. "Who are you, and what are you doing in our palace? Tell me now."
"Not," said Arthur, furiously – for he did not appreciate the rude tone the man was taking, prince or no prince – "until you put some bloody clothes on."
Prince Francis smirked. "I shall not," he said.
"Francis," said Prince Matthew, so quietly Arthur could barely hear him, "please make yourself decent. This is awkward enough without you remaining naked." And then he smiled kindly at Arthur, almost in the way Alfred used to smile at him, and said, "I do apologise. I don't think you mean us any harm, for you carry no weapon with you. So please, explain how you came to be here."
And Arthur sighed and tried not to look at Prince Francis – who was still grumbling about having to dress, and trying to touch his husband, constantly, until Prince Matthew told him sharply to stop fooling around and at least wrap a sheet around his waist – and Arthur told them the whole sad story, and about the big white bear, Kumajirou, and that all he really wanted was to see Alfred one more time, even if he did not wish to return home.
"That is a very sad tale," Prince Matthew sighed when he had finished. "You poor thing! I am terribly sorry, Arthur, but I do not know of anyone by the name of Alfred, and nobody who looks like you described."
"You must be very foolish to come so very far," said Prince Francis. "Or you must love him very much indeed."
"I – he is my best friend," said Arthur, and he felt a little warm. "And it's none of your business, anyhow. You cannot help me, so I shall take my leave. I am sorry to have troubled you, Prince Matthew." And he bowed.
"Wait!" said Prince Matthew, as Prince Francis' hand descended into his lap once again. "We may be able to offer you a little assistance. Please, stay the night; we have plenty of spare bedrooms, and you look so very tired."
Arthur was tired – terribly so – and so he agreed to spend one night at the palace before continuing his search for Alfred the following day.
"Then it is settled," said the kind Prince Matthew. "And when you are ready to depart, we shall give you warm clothes, and food, and a carriage, shan't we, my love?"
"Oh...if that is what you want, my darling," said the other prince, looking a little put out, and Prince Matthew said, "It is!" and kissed his husband quickly upon the cheek in thanks.
Arthur thanked them both (even Prince Francis, though rather grudgingly), and the bell was rung for a maid to escort Arthur to a room across the hallway. And there he undressed, and slipped beneath the soft satin sheets with a tired sigh, and drifted to sleep to the distant sounds of Prince Matthew and Prince Francis trading kisses and endearments. And he dreamt of Alfred.