Disclaimer: I do not own HETALIA
More time passed and Arthur did not try to scare Alfred again lest he face another sleepless and rather awkward night and morning when Arthur woke up in Alfred's arms. Alfred, thankfully, made no mention of it and acted as if it never happened afterward. The only change in him that Arthur could see was maybe a more tolerable attitude, nothing more.
He really didn't know why he agreed to the chess game.
"So…What's your family like?" Alfred asked as he moved a gold pawn.
Arthur didn't look up from the board, "Like I would know. I haven't seen them for ten years," he said as he fingered an invisible beard.
"Well, what do you remember?"
"Mum was a good cook. Father was never around. Brothers treated me like shit," he grimaced then moved a rook. Another golden pawn was added to the growing pile.
"Ouch," Alfred winced, "Was your mom nice at least?"
"She was a stern woman but not unkindly. In my memories she always carried herself with great dignity and poise."
Alfred gave a chuckle, "Sounds like someone I know," he moved a knight to the side, one of his lat pieces, "Do you miss her? Or your brothers?"
Arthur allowed a small sigh to pass his lips, "I used to. But time has passed and I have grown accustomed to the loss. No that's not right…detached. I have grown detached to them. Do not look at me that way! I am perfectly fine or I was perfectly fine with my crew, not like you helped."
"Well, why didn't you try to find them? Your family and stuff? You had a ship."
Arthur glared at the merman sprawled out on the floor, "Do you mind? I would rather not discuss my personal matters with you. How about you? Your mother, brother, father? Have any drama? Perhaps some murder or maybe adultery? Do tell!"
Even though he was lying down, Alfred looked cornered, "Well, uh…My mom…It's really not that interesting."
"Humph, it is just like you to pry in other people's business while not even divulging a sentence of your own," he smirked and moved a piece, claiming yet another golden rook. He really was expecting more of a fight but here he was with practically the entire board claimed. He'd have to challenge Ivan to a game; it seemed clear now that the Russian was not as intimidating as he seemed seeing as how he had lost to Alfred. "If I remember correctly, your father is the Ruler of the Seas, am I right?"
Alfred nodded awkwardly, "Yeah."
"Wouldn't that make you a prince of sorts? A crown prince maybe?"
The frown on the merman's face deepened, "Yeah, in human terms I guess I'd be a crown prince. Next in line and whatever."
Arthur moved the queen in position next to the king, "You don't seem too happy about that. What's there to not like about being next in line to the throne? I would imagine it would be an enjoyable position. Check mate by the way"
"Not quite, "Alfred said and simply moved his king forward, taking the silver queen, "Being a prince is dumb. When people hear about it they don't look at you the same way. And there are so many restrictions. I don't want it at all."
Cursing himself for making such a stupid move, Arthur angrily moved a bishop. No matter, he had enough pieces to swamp that blasted king, "Tch, I do not see the problem with a little respect and a few boundaries. Look what it gets you, wealth and power, what else do you need?"
Alfred raised an eyebrow and moved his last pawn, "I thought you loved being a pirate not a prince."
"What is the point of such a job if you do not gain wealth and power from it? I love pirating, yes, but to be a king…I would gladly trade my vocation for such a position."
Shaking his head, Alfred moved his last pawn toward the cluster protecting the king, "You don't get it. Let me put it in your language. Imagine sailing the sea when one day people stop you and say that just because you are alive you much work at a dock. Now this dock is the most beautiful one in the world and thousands of the most important people in the world use it and they all have to pay you. You are rich. You can deny anyone docking, send them to jail for false violations. You have power. Sounds great? Good, you will have this 'amazing' job your entire life. However, there is one catch; you will never be able to leave the dock again. No more sailing, no more pirating, no more adventure. The only sea you will get is that which you can see from where you stand from the dock. And day after day you will watch beautiful ships dock on your property and you will never be able to get on them. No, you will take care of those ships and watch them sail away. Now tell me Arthur, how does that sound? Is that the dream you are pursuing so fervently?"
Overwhelmed by the highly detailed, thoughtful, and potent scenario, Arthur could only give a muttered, "Sure," as he moved a guarding pawn to capture the last remaining gold pawn.
Alfred moved his bishop to the far side of the board, "Being a king is no different. It does not hold any appeal to me. I just want my freedom. Check mate."
Arthur looked down in shock at the board to see that Alfred was right. The bishop had a diagonal path right to the silver king from the hole created by his last move. The kind was fenced in by his other pieces and was unable to move anywhere but closer to its death. "What…?" Arthur didn't know what to make of it until he realized what Alfred would do about it. Laugh in his face, just like Ivan.
No such thing happened. Arthur looked over to see Alfred now gathering the pieces, looking oddly thoughtful. It was then that Arthur came to comprehend Alfred's intelligence, maybe even genius. Like the chess game Alfred allowed himself to look stupid, allowed himself to lose pieces, or get caught in a net and tossed into a tank. In doing so he allowed his opponent to think lowly of Alfred and highly of himself. He would continue this, skirting around any opportunities to show signs of intellect until he found opportunity of when it really mattered, a check mate, or a crushing wave. His opponent would ultimately lose.
Arthur watched Alfred sort the pieces and arrange time in their correct starting places. All the while Arthur cursed himself again for not seeing what Alfred was doing and cursed the sick bastard that Alfred had turned out to be. He really has this all down, Alfred noticed his stare and looked up, no longer thoughtful but back with an innocent cocked-head-puppy expression, "Arthur?"
Or does he?
Arthur looked straight into his eyes and with and indistinguishable expression asked, "Is this my dock, Alfred?"
Alfred froze, eyes wide as he looked at Arthur. A minute passed before the merman looked away and put the last piece on the chess board. Without another word and without making eye-contact, Alfred left, barely making a ripple in the pool.
Arthur supposed this was small victory. But a hollow one.
Arthur could feel his spirit breaking. He missed the sun, the salty spray, the warm breeze, the stars. The cave had nothing to offer him, only cold and the fake rays of the torches on the walls. He was sick of both. He never knew how much he loved sunlight, he longed for it now like food. The absence of light sucked the healthy tan from his skin, made him look almost ghostly. The lack of these things alone made him want to beg to be let out. But not yet, he still had to keep that small ounce of pride.
He had already given up his verbal fight with Alfred. Ignoring the fact that he was the one who was holding Arthur hostage, the merman was not unbearably annoying. Arthur had somehow gotten used to his presence. Alfred certainly was a chatterbox, when he wasn't gone. Sometimes Arthur would hear his words taper off and he would turn to see Alfred staring at him with a strange expression.
The treasure hadn't crossed his mind once in this time. Arthur did not entertain himself anymore, he just lay there in his blankets, sleeping or thinking. Alfred seemed to think something was wrong and tried to get the man out of the sheets so that the man would do something but Arthur waved him off with steadily weakening hands. It fit Arthur that his body should waste away along with his spirit.
He supposed that it was because of this he began to sing. How long had it been? Five years, maybe longer… It was a sad song, one that came naturally, even if the words came out shaky and unpracticed. But as he repeated the first verse the notes seemed to smooth over and the words easily. His voice was a nice one, echoing throughout the cave as if he were singing in some great hall…
As I was a walking down in Stokes Bay
I met a drowned sailor on the beach as he lay
And as I drew nigh him, it put me to a stand.,
When I knew it was my own true Love
By the marks on his hand.
He paused for breath when suddenly he heard a voice behind him, startling him out of his revere. Not only the presence of the voice behind him but the quality of the voice that surprised him. Deep, rich, and unrecognizable, the beautiful sound surpassed the singing of the French siren that long time ago.
As he was a sailing from his own dear shore
Where the waves and the billows so loudly do roar,
I said to my true Love, I shall see you no more
So farewell, my dearest, you're the lad I adore.
Arthur turned to see a siren leaning out of the pool, staring at him with piercing eyes. Alfred. All questions of how impossible the situation was were lost along with all other thoughts as Arthur became enraptured by the siren's voice. Alfred looked back at him, eyes half-lidded and face taking on that serious expression that fit him so well. Arthur's legs carried him forward, eyes locked on that beautiful tan face. The third verse began and Arthur found himself mouthing the lyrics, afraid to take away from the splendor he was hearing. But then Alfred looked at him, without breaking the rhythm and Arthur knew he was asking him to sing. And Arthur obliged him.
She put her arms around him, saying O! My dear!
She wept and she kiss'd him ten thousand times o'er.
O I am contented to lie by thy side.
And in a few moments, this lover she died.
When his voice was added Alfred switched to harmony and his eyes practically glowed with a new intensity. Alfred inched closer as if Arthur was the siren. Suddenly Arthur was on his knees before him. His eyes appraised the body before him, the golden, muscled skin, the sapphire blue scales that slithered so smoothly, almost seductively through the water, the strong jaw, the not-so-dirty-blonde hair, but most of all those blue eyes staring back at him with liquid fire. Arthur leaned closer and closer, wanting to see more, more. Their lips touched. Logic told him that this was wrong; he should be pushing away, kicking, screaming. But his soul, his spirit, his heart, his feeling told him that this was the treasure he was searching for, what he wanted more of. So he pressed on.
Amazingly the song didn't stop, Alfred, through some magic or skill, still sang on as their lips moved against each other softly. Arthur was overwhelmed by it all; the slight taste of salt and the sweet seaweed Alfred often ate, that seeped through his lips. He closed his eyes and couldn't help but to give a small moan into those lips.
Had Arthur's eyes been opened he would have seen the merman's eyes darken, betraying his hunger. But all Arthur could feel was the lips around him work with new vigor and practically devour his own and the tongue that tasted him. The vibrations from his singing made him relax into arms that pulled him closer and closer…
And all in the churchyard these two were laid,
And a stone for remembrance was laid on her grave,
My joys are all ended, my pleasures are fled,
This grave that I lie in is my new married bed.
Arthur pressed more insistently with him, feeling teeth and now sharpened incisors. Arthur's arms wrapped around and felt the taught muscles of the broad back. His fingers trailed over a thick and rugged line of skin, the scar from the glass of the tank. Arthur was immersed in water by now and was very aware of Alfred's tail wrapping around his legs before letting go to keep them afloat. Another moan escaped the man's lips and the merman became even more passionate, pulling the man completely underwater except for his head. Sharp teeth pressed into soft lips and Arthur flinched when they cut into the flesh there but relaxed when a tongue lapped up the red liquid hungrily.
Alfred's eyes flew open, realizing what he was doing. The singing stopped and Arthur's eyes opened slowly before widening with shock at the eyes so close to his. Alfred hurriedly pushed the man away, backing into the deeper water.
Arthur caught himself on the edge of the pool, speechless and still staring at Alfred with the same expression. His mind was still catching up with the situation. Alfred could still taste the blood on his tongue and feel his sharpened teeth. He had backed all the way to the wall of the cave by now and across from him he could see Arthur's expression that twisted his heart painfully.
He had to get out. "You…you sing good," he mumbled before diving underwater.
Arthur was still there on the edge an hour later.
Arthur decided to get drunk.
What was a better solution for the conflicting emotions raging in his chest and the embarrassing memories, and the best damn kiss he'd ever-no, no, no-worst memory ever? There was nothing like forgetting yourself in a good bottle or twenty of rum.
So that's what he did. All of those barrels filed with good ole alcohol, all those barrels that needed emptying. He used an old sword to pop open the top of a one and disregarding all things proper dunked his whole head in and drank. And drank. And drank.
He didn't have to wait long for the rum to take effect. Arthur let out a sigh as the weight on his shoulders was replaced with giddiness. And the kiss…well, he was sure it was nothing some more rum couldn't handle.
Alfred came back when Arthur was wobbling on his feet and slurring his words and movements. The merman quietly walked into the cavern, looking like he was approaching a wild animal with a rueful frown on his lips.
Arthur called out from his spot leaning against the rum barrel as soon as he saw the merman, "Alfred! You damn…w-," he had trouble forcing the word from his mouth, "wanker."
Alfred looked down at the man, brows knitting in confusion, "Arthur? Are you drunk?"
"No! Wait…," Arthur's head looked up as he thought, "Yes! Of *hic* course I'm druuunk you daft fool! What else…what else would I be doing after that-that absolute…fiasco!"
The merman shuffled his feet uncomfortably, "Yeah…about that…I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" Arthur threw his hands in the air, "You should be sorry! You *hic* you can sing? Do you like being so conniving? Tosser!" he swung out a fist like the merman wasn't across the room.
"No!" Alfred swallowed and lowered his voice, "I just didn't…didn't want you to like me just because of my voice. I wanted you to like me for me. And," Alfred blushed, "I only wanted you to hear my singing."
For a moment the drunk was silent, the small part of his mind still working properly processing the words and feeling a little touched. But Alfred didn't see the blush on the already flustered drunk's face, "Well, you're still a bastard for subjecting such torture to me!" He felt something digging into his side, "Damn shell!" he yelled, grabbing the seashell and flinging it across the room.
Alfred's frown deepened and he walked over to the man, "Come on Arthur, you should be getting to bed."
"NO!" Arthur slapped the hands away, "I'm not-I'm not leaving here until you tell me why I'm here!"
Alfred grimaced, "I'm sorry but I can't-,"
"Stop! Stop! Stop! I can't! I can't! I can't! Why can't you? I'm beginning to think that damned siren was right about you!"
"What siren?" Alfred asked almost angrily, "Who told you what?"
"Ivan, your sick bastard f-friend," Arthur slurred, "Said you wanted to do some vile thing to me. And from that debauchery earlier I'm beginning to think that wanker's right."
Alfred shook his head, "Damn, I'm sorry about him, he was wrong. Now come on-,"
"No! Tell me! Do you want to eat me? Or do you want to have me as some kind of…pleasure-giving object?"
"No!" Alfred said, "I just can't tell.."
"Then do, God dammit!" Arthur grabbed the merman's shoulders and pulled him closer, "I'm tired of being here, doing nothing! Eat me! Take me! Just put me out of my misery!" he shook Alfred staring desperately. Some sick part of his mind noted that unlike Francis, Alfred's attractiveness did not fade when he stopped singing.
Alfred made no move to remove the hands, just looked at Arthur with sad and regretful eyes, "You really think...I'd do that to you?" he whispered, "Do you really want that?"
Something in Arthur broke at that moment and his eyes filled with tears, "No…I-I don't want that," his arms dropped from the merman's shoulders and he collapsed onto the floor, clutching his sides, "No…no, no, no. I want…," he suddenly looked up at Alfred, tears streaming down his reddened face, "Please, let me go. Let me out of here! Please, I just want to go back to the sea, to the sun…the stars…please…"
Arthur supposed that it was then he passed out. Afterwards he could only remember vaguely the arms that scooped him up and carried him to his bed and the blankets wrapped around him with the upmost care. And he could only remember snatches of a hand slipping a little green shell into his trouser pocket and giving his head a small caress so soft it could have been mistaken for a breeze.
He did not remember the words whispered into his ear, "I love you."
AN: I hope you found this chapter to your liking cause it's only going down from here XD
The song was called the Drowned Sailor. I think it fits pretty well.
Thanks for all the reviews last chapter! They gave me the energy to get this chapter in! Please review again!