Hetalia - Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 19! And oh boy, hope everyone's ready for shit to hit the fan.

I'd like to, as always, apologises for the late chapter. I am actually going on holiday to Thailand soon (I'll be bring my notes and IPad so I might be able to post whilst there) and what with Splatoon 2, Comic Con content dropping like it's hot cakes, it's been hard actually getting down to writing this chapter. Though I must say, I do believe that it is one of my better edited ones, alongside one of the longest.

I'd like to say a big thank you and send love and kisses to those that reviewed last chapter:

Chiisaioni - Your ever faithful reviews never fail to make me smile

WritingTrash - Thank you for binging and welcome aboard the pain train! Choo Choo!

VeniVidiPerivi - Your review actually made me blush :3 And I think it's safe to say we all can't wait for everyone to be on the same page. Just have a tissue box nearby when the time comes.

Elvia Jones - Arthur will find out the truth fairly soon. And then I'll drop this story and never finish it ;)

PruCan Sam - Literally, 'Just take off your damn mask!' I was mentally screaming the same thing last chapter. Was seriously considering how different the story would of been if Alfred had.

Oliver with Imaginary-Friends - 'I won't drag Alfred into any of this crazy shit'...Yeah...Arthur's snap. Pray for him.

NeahZoldyck13 - Slipping in references in chapters is big mood.

RowerLovesAstronomy - You have no idea how high praise is 'I'm reading this chapter over again'. Makes me weak :')

A hhugggee thank you to all you lovelies who reviewed, and be sure to check out my tumblr: lollipoplou.

Now, I present you all, the next chapter.

Enjoy!

Spades District, 221 Baker's Street, The Kirkland Residence

'No. No, Gaul I'm going to need that information by tonight.' Arthur insisted into his phone with a soft grunt as he straightened up out of the extended triangle pose. Alfred grimaced at the Brit's strength and flexibility as he shifted into the one-handed tree pose, effortlessly holding up his entire body by one hand, and shook his head with an exhausted huff when Arthur glanced up to him to see if he was still following.

Half way through Arthur's 'basic' yoga routine, Arthur had decided to call —what Alfred gathered to be—an information broker by the name of Gaul, to barter for Wang's location on the night of 'X's launch.

'Don't be ridiculous. Of course I am not going fly out to Cote d'azur with you. No— no, this is a serious matter, you goon. I can't leave Terra, and I need that information…Is that so? Tonight then? Right, we'll see you there,' Arthur wrapped up and ended the call, tossing his phone over to where their water bottles and towels lay on the other side of dojo floor.

'Cheeky git.'

'Wanna fill me in?' Alfred asked, offering a hand when Arthur lowered himself down.

Arthur gratefully took it and Alfred effortlessly heaved him up. 'Gaul's agreed to meet with us, only he's insisted it happen at one of his pompous gala's that he's fond of throwing upon returning to back from his travels.'

'Gala? You didn't say this guy was loaded.'

'Masquerade gala, and oh yes. He has no shortage of money. Information dealings is extremely profitable, pending on you to choose to deal with,' Arthur replied. 'And fair warning now, you will see at the gala that not all of Gaul's clients are ones that can be trusted.'

'So why are we going to him if he's got shade?' Alfred questioned and Arthur rolled his eyes.

'Because there's a reason he's the best in the business,' He stated as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Alfred couldn't say he was reassured. Don't get it wrong, he had complete faith and trust in Arthur's word. But other people's? Not so much.

'I hope you have a proper suit. If not, I'm sure Allistor will be willing to lend you one of his.'

Alfred did a double take. 'Wait, wha—? S-suit? We aren't going in our usual suits?'

'Unless you like being laughed at or mobbed, then no. We won't be,' Arthur snorted. 'Honestly Columbia, this is a formal gala. You're going to have to look the part if you want anyone to take you seriously.'

Alfred flinched at the sting of Arthur's words and scuffed the toe of his trainer against the floor as Arthur moved away to stare out the window that was the height and width of one of the room's walls. Outside, the people of Terra had began to rise and start another day…

'I am sorry Columbia,' Arthur sighed with his back to him, 'that was uncalled for. I—just what with everything that's happened, I'm a little wound up is all.'

Alfred hesitantly took a few steps to narrow the distance between them, before he reached out and slowly pulled Arthur to his chest, tucking his head into the crook of his collarbone.

'Maybe you should go to Cote d'azur. You're way stressed out.' Alfred muttered into his hair; slow, trailing hands felt how tense Arthur's shoulders beneath his t-shirt.

'You know what? After we've found the scientists, I say we both go,' Arthur chuckled, his hot breath splaying against his neck, and Alfred prayed he didn't pick up on how fast his heart sped up at the thought. A vacation, just the two of them in the Southeast of France. 'Lord knows we deserve it.'

'Not that I'm saying "no", but wouldn't there be— like, a whole bunch of problems with that? I mean, Terra won't have Britannia or Columbia to watch the streets.' Alfred reluctantly pointed out.

Arthur shrugged. 'We aren't the only ones watching the streets. I'm sure the city could survive a week without us.'

'The other guys wouldn't be able to cover our ground and their's.'

'Then we give the suits to Allistor and Seamus and let them play dress up.' Arthur bat back, and Alfred pulled away to look at the Brit who refused to meet his stare.

'What are you dodging B?,' Alfred appealed, and knew he had hit the nail on the head when Arthur bit down on his lower pouty lip. 'Talk to me.'

'It's Alfred,' Arthur confessed with a sniff and self-deprecating laugh, 'it's silly, but I thought…I thought that he might of called by now. He said that his head was in a complicated place, and I don't want to pressure him into anything, but still I…'

Alfred had to stop himself from smacking his forehead. 'Nice one asshole', his conscious snarked, 'you made Arthur cry.'. Goddammit, what was wrong with him? How simple would of it been to get Matthew to pass him his phone and send a quick text?

Admittedly, yeah, he had almost died so it hadn't been the most pressing thing on his mind. But clearly, it had been for Arthur; and that made Alfred want to punch himself in the face.

'Does he ever speak about me?' Arthur asked suddenly, his spring-green eyes round with a touch of vulnerability, and Alfred mentally groaned his frustration as he was once again forced to smother the all-consuming urge to lean in, take his face between his hands, and kiss him.

Instead, he'd just have to do the next best thing.

'Oh yeah. All the time,' Alfred said, his legs turning to jello at the perfect smile that beamed across Arthur's face.

'Really?' The Brit squeaked, before he cleared his throat and tried again, 'Ahem— I mean, really?'

'Yep. He won't shut up. Always going on about how intelligent, and brave and talented you are. He thinks you're, like, the dopest person ever.'

Arthur's cheeks burned that lovely rose pink that made Alfred's throat go tight and his head stupid. 'I am not so sure. Yesterday, he and I…had a moment, and while he didn't exactly push me away, there was something off with him. Some hesitation that I couldn't quite place,'

The Brit locked his gaze with Alfred, and Alfred was dragged down into the twin emerald veined rock pools; great onyx and viridescent caverns that promised no end to their allusive depths. An intangible quality lay embedded in the crystallised sentiment, such a quality that Alfred knew had enthralled many others before him, and would continue to do so long after.

"The eyes were the window to the soul" was universal, and yet, Alfred could not apply it to Arthur. When he looked into Arthur's eyes, he saw two images simultaneously; a labyrinth of dark corners and dark hallways; and a cocoon of exotic Arabian silk. In it's centre, one held a mighty horned beast, the other a beautiful creature of flight; both connected by delicate thread, a fine line that would lead those who clasped to it to the forbidden treasure inside that was Arthur's soul.

It was easy to understand how others, when they looked in Arthur's eyes as Alfred did now, liked to think they could see through Arthur's shroud to the beast within. They liked the beast. The beast was erratic. It provided excitement, the challenge to run and dance with it, empowering. The beast, the Britannia Angel, was larger than life itself, and yet, for all it's power and all it's radiance and it's worship: was alone.

Arthur was alone; living by the paradoxical duality in that he both rejected, and carved companionship. He needed someone that he could confine in completely, someone to peel back the complex layers, crack the cocoon he had entombed himself in. The bindings that restricted him, as they did protect, were suffocating the butterfly, like that of Hope in Pandora's box.

It was feeble, locked away, overshadowed by it's beastly counterpart, but there were cracks.

Alfred traced his fingertips down Arthur's arm to take his hand, encouraging those cracks to grow, and squeezed it.

'I know him Arthur. He likes you. Really, really likes you. He just— couldn't tell you at the time.'

Arthur sniffed again and he returned Alfred's squeeze. 'You are too good to me, Columbia. I feel so undeserving of it.'

Alfred gulped around the lump in his throat, his eyes pricking at the corners. 'Gotta use the bathroom. Be right back.' He rasped before turning on his heel and sprinted up the stairs to leave Arthur in his dust; mouth left hanging open to respond too late.

He didn't stop his momentum until he slammed into the back of the party sofa where Matthew sat flipping through the TV channels with Seamus and Allistor.

'Matt. Phone. Now.' Alfred wheezed and snatched it out of his brother's hand when it was tentatively held up for him, before spinning back around to launch himself into the Kirkland's restroom.

After slamming the door shut and locking it, Alfred immediately opened his messages from Laura and dialled in Arthur's number that she had sent him. As the tone rang, he grind his teeth together to stop them from gnawing his nails, his heart in his chest threatening to burst.

His free hand had been attempting to smooth down his gravity-defying cowlick when Arthur finally picked up.

'Hello?'

'Arthur!' Alfred jumped, his voice bouncing octaves before he quickly turned his head away from the mic and coughed. 'Arthur— Hey, hey Arthur. This is…hey.'

'I'm sorry. Who?'

Alfred sucked in a deep breath and swiped his drenched hands on a railed towel. Get it together, Alfred. It is no different from all the other times they had spoken. He just knew the whole truth now, and that made every word weighted.

'Sorry! Sorry, it's Alfred.'

'Oh!,' Arthur's voice gasped, and Alfred could visualise that english-rose flush, 'Alfred! Alfred, you— how are you?'

'Yeah, I'm good. I'm good. I uh— I actually wanted to call you. About yesterday.'

'Oh. Oh,' Arthur breathed with realisation, and Alfred shivered, goosebumps rippling down his spine at the knowledge that he was just nervous as he was.

How on earth was he going to keep this up?

'Yeah, so, I was thinking— wondering if you wanted to do…an activity, together?'

There was a second of stunned silence across the line before it was broken by an adorable giggle. 'An activity?,' Arthur laughed, the rare sound magical. 'and of what sort, did you have in mind?'

Alfred's eyes dropped to the spread magazine on the sink counter; the front page highlighting the founding festival's parade floats, and a sneak preview event taking place that afternoon.

'How about we go see the parade floats? I hear that this year's theme is Alice in the Wonderland.' Alfred suggested, regarding the colourful illustration of said character, and thinking how eerily similar she looked like Arthur with her tangled, golden mess of hair.

'Wonderland, eh?,' Arthur said with a missable huff, 'I'd love to Alfred.'

The American's heart fluttered and the corners of his mouth pulled up into a wide grin. 'Great! It's a date! See you in an hour?'

'S-see you in an hour.' Arthur stammered before Alfred cut the call and fist punched the air.

YES!

Alfred opened the restroom door just in time to see Arthur emerge from downstairs, dreamily humming a tune that he recognised as Disney's Cinderella's 'So this is love.'

He had to work hard not to smile when he swayed over, heading for the stairs.

'What's got you in a good mood?' He couldn't resist asking. Arthur's smile lit up the room as he beamed.

'Oh, nothing,' He sang and began to ascend the stairs. 'I'm afraid that I'll have to take a rain check on the theory testing. Meet here tonight before we head for Gaul's, yes?'

'Ay-up! Where are you going?' Seamus called from over the sofa and Arthur threw a dismissive wave over his shoulder.

'None of your business, nosey! Columbia, remember your suit!' He shouted down to Alfred before disappearing for his room. Alfred waved up goodbye to him, and the moment the door clicked shut, ripped off the Columbia goggles and bolted for the front door, fisting his pockets for his bike's key.

'Eh?! Where are you going now?' Matthew cried out after him, and Alfred copied the same gesture Arthur had shown to his brother.

'Gotta date! Give Arthur an excuse for me! Cheers!'

'Ehhh?! Wait!'

But the elevator doors were already sliding shut on Alfred's ecstatic face.

Terra City, Hearts District, Queen's Square

The Heart's Queen's square was cram-packed with colourful fair stalls, food trucks and people, all excited for the preview founding event despite the looming overhead clouds that threatened to rain. Over by a quaint bakery that bordered the edge of the stalls, Arthur let out a heavy sigh as he watched the Cheshire Cat parade float be wheeled forward onto the town square's stage.

This was wrong. He was supposed to be happy; Alfred had invited him out on a date. A date!

And yet, literally everywhere he looked, Arthur was reminded of how much he missed Wonderland, his Wonderland. It had been years since he had last visited, and during that time he had written it off, unable to think of any reason why he wasn't able to enter. Now, he was certain that Hatter was behind it, deliberately keeping him away.

It set his teeth on edge, the thoughts of how malnourished it must be without him; the meadow's grass dry and yellow, the woods rotten and streams clogged. Wonderland was a place of emotional and mental healing for Arthur, and to be deprived of it…

If he was going to have any chance against Hatter, he needed to reconnect with Wonderland; bring back spring and build up his strength and magic. And to reconnect with Wonderland, he would have to be beyond where Hatter could misdirect him. He had to stay close to Columbia, because for whatever bizarre and miraculous reason, nothing Lucid could effect the American hero.

Arthur frowned and turned to look at his reflection in the shop window that he leant against. In truth, Columbia had been superhumanly understanding about him and his feelings for Alfred. Had the positions been reversed, Arthur couldn't be confident that he would have acted as maturely as Columbia had; and he felt a swell of great admiration for that.

So lost in his thoughts, Arthur jumped when there was a rippling roar of a motorbike engine, and turned to see Alfred pull onto the pavement, kicking up the park stand before he took off his helmet and shook out his messy hair.

Good god. Every time he saw him, Arthur could of sworn that Alfred grew more and more attractive. Every time, he ravelled at just how right it felt to see him again.

When their eyes met, Arthur couldn't stop the rush of blood to his cheeks at the intensity of Alfred's gaze as he strolled up to him, a trace of what he could only label as awe there.

'Hey.' The American greeted in a soft tone, the very same that he had used before they had kissed, and the memory of it made Arthur lightheaded.

'H-Hello Alfred,' He stammered. 'It's—it is to good to see you again.'

'Y-yeah. Right back at ya,' Alfred sheepishly scratched his nose, before he nodded to the bustling fair stalls, 'So, wanna check out the floats?'

Arthur returned the nod and followed Alfred's lead into the stands, slipping between two pinstriped tents to emerge onto the strip. The smell of glazed doughnuts and sugary sweets inlaced with cheery classical music as they strolled, idle chatter and the shrill screams of children as they raced one another.

Five times, Arthur caught Alfred looking at him, and he at Alfred; slight, flighting glances. Seven times the backs of their hands had brushed against each other. After the fourth, Arthur had decided that it was not innocently on Alfred's end.

An offering? Baiting? Was Alfred expecting him to initiate the first move, like he had with their kiss? Should he? But if he did, how would that look? Too eager? Of course, he was eager, very much so, but he didn't want Alfred to think him desperate!

The argument ran around in tortuous circles into Arthur's mind, and it was when Alfred loudly cleared his throat—breaking the turning awkward, suspended silence— and pointed up to the parade float that showcased a colossal cyan blue caterpillar, surrounded by plastic flowers and small animatronic butterflies.

Arthur sighed up at it's familiar wrinkled old face; Absolem, one of his first friends to inhabit Wonderland.

'Major kudos to the dude who built that,' Alfred complimented, not noticing how Arthur's smile had deflated. 'And this is just one float! The rest of Wonderland is gonna look ace.'

'I had a Wonderland,' Arthur lamented before he could stop himself, and found that his throat was suddenly very dry. Alfred was staring at him with the same intensity as before; as though he were the only person in the world. 'W-When I was very little, of course. It was so similar to all this.'

'Did it have the same characters? The White Queen, Cheshire Cat, the White Rabbit,' Alfred listed them on his fingers, pausing on the little finger to watch Arthur's face. 'The Mad Hatter.'

A chilled shiver, his warning shiver, trickled down his spine, and Arthur violently struggled to keep his face neutral. It…it was impossible for Alfred to know what that name meant to him, and yet, there was an undeniable, underlying suggestiveness there.

No.

It. Was. Not. Possible. Alfred could not know. His bloody brothers hadn't even known until but an hour ago.

His rationalising did nothing to undo the knot of his stomach.

'Yes. All of them. Wonderland was a special place for me. It was somewhere I could escape to.' Arthur answered with a sad smile, and was thankful that Alfred chose not to push the subject.

When it came time to turn at the corner of the strip, Alfred looked sideways with interest at the cornerstone royal-purple teepee, the top of it slightly smoking with a strange blue smoke. Outside, was a propped up sign of a sparkling crystal ball with the words, 'Mystic Meg's'

'Hey, this looks fun!' The American said and ducked in before Arthur could make up an excuse not to. Inside the tent, he could sense the presence of someone Lucid, and considering that his face was the front page headline in every Lucid dream, he was not exactly keen to be recognised.

The burst of Alfred's excitement, and the discovery that the interior was extremely dark, was the tipping point for Arthur. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he crouched low to step over the threshold.

The fortune teller's teepee was securely up there with some of the more claustrophobic spaces that Arthur had been in; lit only by five black candles, the small space was overly suffocated with spiced incense. At the back, atop a mountain of complied cushions behind a fat, low, round table, sat who Arthur could only presume was 'Mystic Meg' herself.

She was not the hagged old woman that the stereotype would expect you to expect. Arthur judged Meg to be in her late forties, with a noticeable strands of silver amongst the chestnut brown and the light crease of wrinkles around her eyes that came with smiling often. He imagined that outside her (successful?) far sighting career, she was an avid lover of green tea and herbal gardening.

Meg's dark eyes twinkled in the flickering candlelight as Arthur joined Alfred at the table, shooting him a dubious glance as he sat down on the ground beside him. Luckily, the candles were low enough to only illuminate the table before them.

'Interested in what the future holds, are we boys?' Meg purred, and Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the overly enthusiastic bobbing of Alfred's head.

'Heck yeah we are! Magic is super rad, right Arthur?'

'For children's parties, I suppose.' Arthur coughed, wafting his hand through the smoke in front of his face, and caught the secretive look that Meg sent his way. There was the unspoken rule among the Lucid community: unless deliberately initiated, never talk about your Lucidity in front of those otherwise unknowing of it. Arthur fully intended to keep to it, even if it meant telling a few white lies.

Meg chuckled and reached for something stashed below the table. When held up to the light, Arthur saw that it was a deck of tarot cards.

'Then I shall entertain the children,' She smirked with a wink before her slender hands began to expertly shuffle her deck, cards sliding and shifting so fast that Arthur struggled to keep track.

'Your charge?' He asked conspicuously.

Meg cocked her head. 'The satisfaction of my curiosity is charge enough,' She said before she motioned to Alfred. 'You. I will begin with you. Your stars shine bright and clear, this will be a simple reading, for a simple soul.'

Arthur watched Alfred adorably chewed on his lower lip in anticipation as Meg drew six cards and fanned them across the table with a sweep.

'We begin with the card that best represents you,' Meg turned over the leftmost card. 'The Fool—'

'Hey! That's not very nice!' Alfred blurted and Arthur leant in to whisper in his ear.

'She's not calling you names, you daft duck. Tarot cards use pictures and symbols to represent certain qualities and themes. They can be 'read' to create a story or prediction.' He filled in, and Alfred bowed his head apologetically for his outburst.

Meg continued as though the outburst hadn't happened.

'The Fool. A young soul from humble beginnings. He is one that seeks to gain experience, and grow from a boy into a man…The next card I turn over, will be a misfortune that you will face in the near future,' Meg warned, and turned over said card.

Arthur's blood temperature plummeted.

'The Devil. A card belonging to Mars, the planet associated with violence, obsession, passion and sex. Despite what you may think the Devil is something not predestined to be good nor evil. The satyr, the Capricorn, portrayed on the card, is believed in some cultures to be an unclean and lustful animal'

'Woah,' Alfred breathed, and Arthur forced his breaths to stay regular. Coincidence. It had to be. 'That's kinda dark.'

'Next will be a misfortune in your more distant future,' Meg turned the card over to reveal a pale full moon, 'The Moon, the card of deception, and unseen enemies. The Moon often represents your 'shadow self', a persona born from your anxieties, fears and repressed thoughts. Be extremely wary of who you place your trust in, young man. I shall now reveal the consequence should you fail to rise above these misfortunes,'

The card flipped, and so did Arthur's gut, inducing him with an engulfing wave of nausea.

An ash skull stared at them with pitiless, black, hollow eye sockets.

'Death,' Meg sighed. 'In this negative light, the thirteenth major arcana brings death, destruction and destroyed hope. T-This is what awaits you should you fail.'

'And how do I avoid that?' Alfred muttered in an equally low tone, and the fortune teller revealed the next card.

'Strength. The gentle woman taming the great lion. The infinity symbol above her head is same found in the Magician card, her white dress is that of the innocent Fool. This card is of mental and physical power, courage and action. The crowned woman tames the king of the beasts through compassion and patience. She forgives it's imperfections, and creates a controlled environment which she and her lion are safe. Through your strength, you will be victorious, and be rewarded with—'

The next card was of a man and woman, embraced in a passionate kiss, bathed in sunlight.

'The Lovers,' Meg breathed. 'Connected to love, beauty, harmony and overcome trials. The above archangel of air blesses and protects the man and woman to signify that their bond is a sacred one. The Lovers can indicate a strong sexual connection that goes beyond instant gratification and lust, suggesting deep passion between the two. The physical attraction and desire to be intimate is strong.'

'I guess that kinda makes up for the whole death thing.' Alfred quipped, his cheeks flush whilst Arthur clenched his hands into tight fists to prevent him from shaking the American.

How could he take this so lightly?! She was Lucid was Christ's sake! Arthur could sense her Bleeding. These predictions were not fiction, they were true.

Alfred would face a devil, and if he was not strong enough, he would die.

Arthur bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle a scream.

Oh god. No.

'And now onto you, my dear,' Meg announced, the new deck already set, her hand already touching the card before Arthur could protest against it.

'The Magician. A powerful skilled card under the planet Mercury. It carries skill, logic and intellect, but has also known harsh pain and loss. The Magician is the bridge between the spirit world and the world of humanity, his right hand holding the staff extends skyward, his left points to the ground. The Magician's robe is white, symbolising the purity found in the Fool, but his cloak is red, representing worldly experience and knowledge. There is a mix of flowers at his feet, pure white lilies of death, and thorny red roses of passion.'

The next card was of a dark tower, a great bolt of yellow lighting crashing down on top.

Arthur gritted his teeth even as Meg's face paled. He was familiar with tarot cards enough to know that he had been drawn the worst of all the deck.

'The Tower, foreshadowing calamity, unforeseen catastrophe and ruin. It tells of destruction on a physical scale, opposed to a spiritual one. The figures that fall from the tower correspond to the chained prisoners in the Devil card, and is also ruled by the planet Mars.' Meg whispered, and Arthur could of sworn that he spied a tear slide down her cheek.

'And my distant future?' Arthur snapped when she made no further move, seemingly in shock before she shook her head.

'The Hanged Man,' She divulged, waving her hand over the card with a crying man with a noose around his neck. 'The Hanged Man speaks of wisdom, trials, restriction and sacrifice. He is a willing victim, one who had chosen the path of sacrifice for the greater good, a higher cause. The ultimate martyr. Your fate, should you fall to these misfortunes—'

A burning chariot that blazed through the sky, reminding Arthur of Apollo's legendary Sun chariot.

'The Chariot. The card of war and conquest, but in this case, defeat. The Chariot holds the same wand as the Magician does in his, both cards control through the strength of their will. With this, you stand to lose everything, young magician. Your peril is to be conquered by your enemy.'

Arthur gulped as Hatter's face skimmed across his mind's eye. 'What must I do?'

'The Emperor. Ties with stability, power, protection and realisation. You must find the one that will provide you with all this. He is a natural-born leader who commands authority and respect, ruling with a firm, but fair hand. Unafraid of war, and has no hesitance to use force and his power to protect those he cares about. Find them, stand by them, and you will be blessed with,' Meg turned over the final card, revealing…

'The Sun,' She beamed, and the sob that arise from Arthur's chest almost escaped. 'The Sun card promises happiness, fortunate marriage, contentment, and earthly peace. It is the image of optimism and fulfilment, the dawn that follows the darkest night. The Sun brings success, radiance and abundance. It reflects the value of simplicity, the freedom to experience the purest pleasures to life, such as spending times with loved ones.'

There was a pregnant silence. Arthur and Alfred exchanged a glance.

'Don't suppose you could tell us who this Emperor is gonna be?' Alfred sheepishly tried with a smile.

Meg chuckled as she shook her head. 'The stars are never quite so specific, I am afraid.'

'Seriously, are you sure you're okay with no money? I mean, you deserve something.' Alfred insisted, but Meg just shook her head again.

'You two have good hearts. It was an honour to read your stars. May…may I have a moment with you, young magician?'

Arthur regarded her up and down before he gave a tight nod and gestured for Alfred to step outside. 'Go on. I'll be out shortly.'

Alfred mirrored the nod, before he stepped up and exited the teepee, the flap inviting in a shock of grey light from outside. Arthur ducked his head to avoid it, so that Meg would not see his face, and jumped when she surged forward to grab his hand.

'Who are you?' She demanded, all earlier friendly pretence gone.

'You already know the answer to that,' Arthur curtly stated, twisting his wrist in an attempt to free it. 'I am the same as you.'

'You are nothing like me. There is no one like you, I have never seen anyone like you. Your aura, it—there is a blackhole surrounding it, a-and a voice echoes from it's centre.'

'That is not the first time I've told that.' Arthur gritted, recalling the child assassin that had strangled him. He to had spoke of a voice, and now, Arthur knew that it was Hatter. Hatter was reaching out through those that were Lucid to get to him.

'It pines for you, young magician. It speaks about you…as though you were it's lover. W-What is it?'

Arthur locked eyes with her, and took the risk of leaning forward into the light. Meg's pupils constricted with recognition.

'The Devil.' He stated, wrenching his wrist free, and stood up.

'You—You're—' Meg shot up off her cushion mountain, mouth agape.

'Yes. I am. No, I don't know why everyone is dreaming about me, so don't bother asking.' Arthur cut out.

Meg shut her mouth and rubbed her temples, struggling to get her thoughts together.

'I—I won't. I won't, just please—'

'And I'll warn you now. Do not follow me. Do not try to follow me, do not tell anyone else like us who I am.' Arthur growled, injecting as much venom behind his words as he could, and turned for the exit.

'Please! I have to tell you!' Meg near shrieked, and the shrill pitch made Arthur stop short.

'Tell me, what?'

The fortuneteller took in a deep breath. 'There is an ancient Chinese proverb. "An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangle, but never break."…I see this thread between you and the young man you came with…He's your Sun. Never let that wondrous light of his fade. Do not.'

'Never.' Arthur promised, and stepped out of the fortuneteller's tent, missing the twin streaks of tears that slid down her cheeks.

Alfred stretched his arms high above his head with a drawn out groan, loosening up his cramped up shoulders. Man! He wasn't quite sure what to think about what Mystic Meg had told them; it being a classic case of; on one hand: beauty, love, and harmony, on the other: death, destruction and devastation.

Sounded fair game.

Alfred smirked as he wandered over to the flower stall across the path. He nodded at the cute redhead that manned the counter when she looked up from her nails, and examined the rows of lined up bouquets. His hand was reaching for a bunch of white roses when someone appeared at his elbow to make him jump out of his skin.

'Not a good choice. Red always trumps white. Every time.' Arthur chuckled, and Alfred raised a brow at him after he recovered.

'Weren't you going to talk to Mystic Meg?' He asked, looking back to the tent, and Arthur waved his question away with a dismissive motion.

'Nope. Decided it wasn't worth it,' The Brit piped in a singsong, bouncing on his toes before reaching out and plucking up one of the roses. 'These really are awful. Tacky flowers, for a tacky little shop. Hmmm—We could always paint the roses red? What do you think Alfie?'

What did he think? Alfred was thinking how he didn't like this out-of-the-blue arrogance that Arthur was flaunting. From the corner of his eye, he saw the redhead's lip curl in distaste and begin furiously typing on her phone.

'Arthur. Dude,' He levelled, his gut churning by how unfazed Arthur seemed by his uncharacteristic rudeness. 'What the hell? Why are you acting like this?'

'What? I'm not wrong,' Arthur drawled as he twirled the rose around and the stopped to look at Alfred that gave him the strangest impulse to bolt. 'Oh dear. That was quicker than I thought.'

'What was—Hmmh?!' Alfred frowned before Arthur latched his arms around his neck to wrench him down, and mushed their lips against each other.

Alfred's hands went up, his eyes wide open as he struggled to understand what was happening. This was nothing like their first kiss. There was too much force, Arthur pushing too hard against him from it to feel pleasurable. It was sour, and it tasted all wrong.

When his lungs started to scream, Alfred was forced to flex his super-strength as he pried Arthur off him, holding him back as though he would a snapping dog. His eyes searched Arthur's face for an explanation, some kind of answer. But Arthur wasn't looking at him, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

Alfred followed his stare, and froze.

Arthur stood stunned in front of the fortuneteller's tent, all blood drained from him with a look of utter terror plastered onto his face.

'Alfred,' He choked, his wobbly voice cracking whilst his lips scarcely moved. Alfred had never seen him look so scared, as though he were about to burst into tears there and then. 'Get away from him.'

What.

Arthur—the Arthur who Alfred could still taste—let out a high giggle, and Alfred stiffened when he twisted his fingers into his hair, pink tongue darting out to sinfully slide over his lips.

'Ello Poppet~'

Ha. Ha..Ha... *cries*

Raise your hand if you're ready for Arthur to go ballistic! Alternatively, come scream with me on my tumblr: lollipoplou.

For anyone confused, the second misfortunes relate to what will happen in Down the Rabbit Hole's sequel, because oh yeah, that's happening.

Reading up on tarot card meanings and assigning them to Arthur and Alfred respectively was so much fun. But real moment in this chapter that punched me in the gut was Arthur's 'Does he ever speak about me?' to Alfred, and I just- *launches self into volcano*

Like to say one more time: I am going on holiday to Thailand soon for about two weeks. I'll be taking my notes and IPad so I might be able to post whilst there, but please don't expect too much.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this story, please consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions about it! Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!

(But dat cliffhanger tho ;))