Arthur's eyes widened in terror. Get dressed with him? How in the hell was he going to get himself out of this one? He shivered a bit at the thought that not only would he probably be found out and executed, but he would have to watch the other undress at the same time. "I-I, um... I-I'm actually a b-bit shy, about th-that... g-getting dressed together, I-I mean..." he murmured. His voice was no more than a weak, high squeak. Tears started in his eyes. He could practically already feel the blades of the executioner cutting through him, and he started to feel a bit light-headed as they approached their room. At least if he made it to the room before passing out he would have a bed to do so on. He looked at Francis pleadingly, hoping to see even an speck of sympathy in his eyes. "P-please, F-Francis, I… I-I've had to…" he stopped, thinking of whether or not now was the time to tell him exactly why he had been kept in the military camp for so long.

Francis's suspicion only raised when his new wife tried to escape dressing with him. "You shouldn't be shy, as I'm going to be the one to dress you." He led them into the bedroom, locking the door soundly behind them. As soon as they were alone he had Arthur stand in front of him, staying perfectly still. He started with the veil, removing the tiny red gems and blossoms that dotted her hair and placing them in a small pile on the vanity to be dealt with later. He could now see all of her head; her pretty face in the front, and messy hair in the back. He sighed, taking a brush from the vanity and brushed her hair softly. He could tell that long hair for her would probably be a disaster, and a bit unsightly, and that the veil had only made it worse. Then he moved to her back, undoing each of the tiny, silver buttons that ran down the back of the dress. He did this until it was loose enough to be shrugged off of her shoulders, so that he could see her in her skirt and corset. He carefully removed her high-heeled shoes and long gloves, placing the two clovers in the pile with a small chuckle and taking a good look at her figure. He smirked a bit, going to their wardrobe and taking out the new dress. It was a bit similar to the previous dress is shape, but not much else. This new dress was gold, with slightly puffy shoulders and mid-length sleeves. Like the wedding dress it was embroidered with thread of a different color, but unlike the blood red of the previous dress this one was done up in green. Tiny flowers and leaves were stitched into the hemming as well, not real ones of course but the most beautifully made ones that Arthur had ever seen. When he had finished with the new dress, he snipped the stem of the rose, leaving just enough for it to be carefully tucked into her hair. "Don't forget the honeymoon tonight cher...I'll get to see...More of your...beautiful body." He whispered, licking his lips. He went back to the wardrobe for his own suit but stopped a moment, kneeling down to pick something up for her. "I believe these will fit you…" he mumbled. He held up two tiny, golden slippers. Larger- although still handmade- green roses had been sewn onto them. He sat her down on their bed and slipped them onto her dainty feet, smiling a little. When he was done, they would both look so very nice.

Arthur's eyes were wide with fear through the entire procedure, watching Francis carefully. He was a bit relieved that Francis hadn't tried to start their "honeymoon" early or at least remove his underclothes. The whole time he had been silently praying for none of his makeup would rub off. He didn't really look at his beautiful dress or dainty slippers until he happened to glance in a mirror, just to see if he still looked dignified. He smiled a little to himself. He didn't just look pretty, he looked amazing. Francis had done a much better job dressing him than he would have imagined, considering that he was a man. He could just barely see his slippers when he lifted his dress up, noting that they were just the right size for his tiny feet. But he didn't really look so much like a woman, did he? He glanced up at his face in the mirror, shocked and a little distressed to see how feminine he really looked, and how natural the dress looked hanging over his thin frame. He frowned and looked back at Francis, a light dusting of pink starting over his cheeks. While the dark suit from before had made him look intimidating, the new golden suit he wore made him look quite dashing. Handsome even. He turned away and looked at himself in the mirror, pretending to straighten his hair just to give his hands something to do. He looked down, the small space between his chest and the inside of the corset giving him just enough room to see all the way down his body. He hoped that he would be able to eat well enough with it on. Granted, it was actually almost loose around his middle since he had eaten so little in the past few months, but it was almost clinging onto his chest since it had been pulled so tightly. It pulled on him so tightly that he actually thought he might suffocate. He shuddered at the thought, looking hesitantly back at his new husband for some form of comfort. "F-Francis…?" he whispered.

Francis stepped next to Arthur, looking at them both in the mirror. He was glad that he had taken the time to see that they matched properly. While Arthur had been looking at himself in the mirror he had gotten dressed, seeing as he only needed to change two pieces of clothing that were more easily removed than hers. He had been told to wear a corset of his own too, embarrassing as it was seeing as his figure seemed fine to him. His was tighter than Arthur's, even seeing that he'd had to pull it so himself. He found a piece of white ribbon from an old birthday gift and tied up his hair, quite sick of it getting in his face. He placed his hands gently on Arthur's shoulders, looking at them both. "You look lovely, mon ange…" His voice had become soft and sweet, as if the new clothes had changed him completely. "See, we match now." Strange as it seemed, there wasn't a touch of red in either of their new outfits, and barely any in their entire wardrobe, and that damn thing contained almost enough clothing to last the couple an entire year before they had to wear the same thing twice. Francis took note that he would have to have some of the dresses fixed though, seeing that Arthur's hips were in no state to be emphasized in the way most of the dresses did. He looked at Arthur lovingly when the small voice squeaked his name. "Yes mon petit wife? Do you need something?"

Arthur hesitated only a moment. "Um… n-never mind, i-it wasn't important… B-but, um, i-is my family going to b-be attending this too? Or are they already…?" he trailed off, worried about them. He wanted to be able to trust Francis, although he wasn't sure how he could. His family needed to be out of this place sooner than he did, as it was a matter of their lives. Francis had his prize now, so there wasn't much reason left for him to carry out his end of the promise if he didn't have to. His only hope was that he would get to see them again, his mother and father and remaining brothers. He hated to imagine poor little Peter rotting away in some dungeon, dead or not, while Arthur was treated to a life of such splendor and riches as this. Arthur wished that he could adopt Peter just to keep him away from such an awful fate. After all, it wasn't like he could really have children, right? "God, there has o be some way around that…" he thought. He pulled away from Francis and went to their bedroom window, trying to admire the view. The sky was dark with clouds, implying that some kind of storm could come overnight. Past the castle walls, dark rooftops stretched to the capitol city's limit. Occasionally a tall stone tower stretched into the sky flying the red flag, one in particular closest to the castle stretching above the clouds that if it had a flag, it couldn't be seen. Arthur had never seen anything like it, wondering what such a large building could be used for. It didn't look like any military tower, and the large windows that covered the outside made it painfully clear that there could be no secrets in such a place.

Francis glanced at him, watching him walk to the window but not saying anything. "Non, like I said earlier, they are already on a carriage back to the Blue Kingdom… they should be about halfway there by now." Francis sighed, almost annoyed by her persistence. He understood though, as she probably wouldn't get to see them again for a long time. "Oi… I understand that you love them, but you're here with me now… and I will try to make you happy, okay?" he went to join her by the window, softly rubbing her sides as if to help calm her. "You are ma belle femme, and I couldn't love you more… But seeing you this way just breaks my heart. Please, I love you…" he whispered. He looked into her eyes and realized that she wasn't looking at him, following her gaze to one of the immense stone towers. "I see you like the tower…" he chuckled. "But then, who wouldn't? In there are all of the wizards and alchemists who brew our medicine and tell us folklore. They also tend to the wounds of soldiers and prisoners… and most other people too." He gave Arthur a small smile. "They saved my life when I was young… I nearly died of bronchitis. Perhaps I'll allow you to go and see it while I prepare for our…" he leaned in a bit closer, his sweet smile turning to a devious smirk. "…precious night." His hands drifted a bit lower from her sides, but before he could do anything else a call and a sharp knock came from outside their door.

"Francis dear!" called a loud, slightly deep but feminine voice. "Your mother asks that you be in the dining hall when you are ready. Yours is the seat by hers, per her request." The soft clicking of shoes on stone tile indicated the person outside walking away. Although Francis thought it a bit unfair, he was still required to be in the dining hall a few minutes before his bride.

Arthur, who's mind had stuck at "wizards and alchemists", had almost not heard the sudden call. "Alright… I'll be down shortly then." He mumbled, watching Francis go. He had made up his mind; he was going to that tower. And by the way things seemed to be going, he would either do it that very eve or suffer some awful fate- most likely death. He was terrified of heights. The very idea of being at the top of such a high tower made him gag with a slight dizziness, but if it was what was needed for him to stay alive he would do it. He glanced around the room, waiting until he was completely sure that Francis was out of earshot before going to the wardrobe and picking out a pair of old, slightly beaten looking shoes. He figured that they were likely something that Francis wouldn't miss, and he stowed them behind the door. Once he had run through a plan in his head- a plan that consisted mostly of him getting to the tower and attracting as little attention to himself without actually planning how to do so- he set out into the hallway on a quest to find the dining hall. He would get to that tower, regardless of what happened. Even if they couldn't turn him into a proper woman, he figured that they had to be able to do something. He didn't care what they did or how they did it, as long as they made him convincing enough to keep Francis from finding out his dark secret, and keeping his family safe. He stopped, realizing how utterly lost he had allowed himself to get. He reluctantly asked a passing servant for directions, presumably the same one that had come to get Francis for dinner by the sound of her voice. She happily led him to the dining room, although during the entire walk there never for more than a moment did she stop talking. He asked her briefly about the tower, which started in a new round of rambling. While he found it difficult to actually take in any of the information she was telling him, he did catch something about an occasional explosion on some strangely-colored smoke from one of them, and how it nearly scared her youngest child to death at times. "It must be some sort of secret…" he thought, relieved when they finally arrived at the dining hall.

Francis smiled at Arthur before leaving the room, a bit reluctant to join the nobles awaiting him in the dining hall. As he had expected, he was bombarded with questions the moment he sat down. All of the speaking was done in his own language, which he was at least a bit thankful for since it meant that his new wife wouldn't have to be expected to answer any of them. Most of them were demanding to know if she had told him anything yet, although he knew that they meant anything that could be used against the opposing kingdom and since no such information had presented itself he just shook his head. His mother shooed them away lightly and looked at Francis, her indigo eyes fixed on him.

"I thought that z'e Kirkland family only 'ad sons…" she whispered, looking at him for explanation.

"Alice said that she was supposed to be keeping her identity hidden…" he replied lightly, looking past her to his father. He was a large man, and was glaring at the empty seat that his son's new bride would occupy soon enough.

"Well…" he grumbled, silencing the other nobles with the mere sound of his voice. "If she turns out to be a man, then she must be executed." He looked at Francis, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Oui, papa, I know…" he sighed.

"Vell, z'e bloodline must be continued." His mother smiled a little, hoping to end the conversation between them. Quite the opposite happened; the conversation turned into a shouting fight, throughout which his mother shouted about "continuing the bloodline" and nothing else. The rest of the nobles, whom there were about fifteen of, continued their previous conversations without the consent of either of the ruling parents. In a nutshell, the dining hall had turned into a scene of near chaos. Francis felt a bit bad though, knowing that Arthur's family would hate him forever if they dared create a child of mixed blood. A sudden silence fell over the nobles at Arthur's entrance, which in turn silenced the argument between father and son and caused the mother to sink silently- unheard- into her seat. A few hushed comment and even compliments were passed throughout the table, and nobody would take their eyes off of her for more than a moment. A few on the younger bachelor noblemen watched her with a sort of hunger, wishing that they had been the ones to get her instead of Francis.

"Mammon, you're going to have to wait. Alice and I have just married and we're not prepared to continue our bloodline yet, alright?" he nearly shouted, startling his two parents. He said it in their language so that Arthur wouldn't understand. Francis gestured for his new bride to take the seat next to his own, ignoring the chatter of the nobles sitting around them.

Arthur had begun to worry a bit when he heard all of their shouting, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with him. The near silence he experienced when he entered the room only scared him a bit, doing nothing for his already frazzled nerves. He gladly took his seat next to Francis, glad to see at least one familiar face in a sea of strangers. When the chattering began anew he glanced around at all of the people, realizing that every set of eyes were fixed on him and shrinking into his seat a little. He wished that he could understand them, although he could tell from their tones and expressions that they weren't angry or upset. Arthur looked to Francis, hoping that he had something reassuring to say but was a bit distressed to find that he too was only speaking the language. He let his eyes shift to the nicely set place in front of him, hoping that if he stared at it long enough he would forget his troubles. He had never been trained to be a host so he didn't know how a proper formal table setting was supposed to look, but of the little he did know he could tell that whoever set this table was a professional. There were at least half a dozen pieces of silverware at each place, and upon examination he found that each piece had a little animal head on it; A lion on each fork, an owl on each spoon, and some other creature that he couldn't identify on the knife. The plates were edged with gold, and a couple of wine glasses sat next to the plate. The only major difference he saw between this and any setting he had seen before was that there was no water glass. This question stuck in his mind for a while until he glanced cautiously around the room, realizing that almost everyone in the room was old enough to drink wine- with the unintentional exclusion of him. As he saw others already more than halfway through their wine and already getting more, he felt a bit obligated to at least taste his own. The taste caught him off guard, as he had never had any alcohol except for that which was given to him by his older brother when he was much younger. Wine, unlike rum or ale, had a very strong taste. He had never really been fond of grapes. He was only able to drink a small amount of the darker-colored wine, blinking a bit and gingerly setting the glass down. He looked at Francis's parents, startled when he noticed his mother watching him. She took her napkin out of the bowl in front of her and set it in her lap, as if she intended for Arthur to see her do so. He slowly copied her, looking to her for approval and receiving a small smile from the woman. When the food was finally set down he could only stare for a little while. He had no idea what any of it was. Everything looked foreign and delicious to him, especially since he hadn't eaten in ages. If he hadn't been hoping to gain the respect of some of these people he would have taken as much of whatever looked the best and shoveled it down, but instead he watched Francis and took a slightly smaller amount of whatever he had. He heard a light giggle and looked up. Francis's mother had noticed his conduct, smiling at him a little as if telling him not to worry about it so much. He forced a small smile back, feeling like an insect in a room full of giants; that he would be stepped on at any moment. He was glad that Francis's father didn't seem to be watching him at least, and he moved a little closer to Francis as the meal went on. The food was delicious. While nobody else at the table seemed to notice, Arthur was almost sure that there had to be some kind of magic in the food to make it so good. That, or his standards for "food" had been dramatically lowered. "Everything tastes amazing…" he whispered, wondering if anyone there spoke his language besides Francis.

Francis smiled a little at Arthur, taking an opportunity while answering someone's question to reach under the table and lightly touch his arm. "I'm so very glad that you enjoy it… I figured that you would be starving and tired after the ceremony…" he chuckled. Most of the people trying to start up a conversation with him asked simple questions which could usually be answered with a simple "Non" and a shake of the head, but seeing as Arthur seemed reluctant to speak he almost wished that he was willing to speak to any of these people. He gently nudged Arthur, drawing his attention for a moment. "After this, you may go see the tower and then meet me in our room. Just don't mess with anything, okay? Spill a potion and they'll snap your neck!" He laughed a little and snapped his fingers dramatically as if to emphasize his point. He sighed happily, letting his thoughts fall back to his new wife; of how stunning she looked, and of how she always seemed to have a sort of darkness in her mood, as if she his some great, dark secret and didn't wish to show it. After a good while longer of eating, drinking, and talking, a cake was wheeled out on a small cart. It was a lovely wedding cake which had been saved specially for the feast. It was frosted white with small swirls and other designs on it, as well as tiny sugar roses of pink. A moderately-sized piece was cut for Francis and Arthur, which Francis simply cut into two pieces. "Some of our best bakers made this… they've rehearsed the recipe so many times that they all know it by heart." He chuckled, poking his fork into the cake. It was so spongy that it was difficult to actually get a bite off of the cake without making it too large or too small. It was sweet and light, reminding him of the kiss he had given Arthur during the wedding ceremony. As the scent of cake met him he felt like he was inhaling freshly-baked heaven, and his eyes fell to Arthur so that the view of his own angel would complete the sensation.

Arthur's eyes widened hungrily when he saw the cake. He took only a small bite at first, still wanting to be seen as polite. He decided that there was definitely some kind of magic being used on the food that made it so good. He hadn't had cake since his fifth birthday, and that was over a decade past. If there was any upside to the entire horrid situation, it would probably be being treated like a royal again. He knew that he would probably have to learn their language if he ever hoped to communicate with these people, but for now he was content to simply listed to their chattering on without him as he ate his cake. The cake was gone all to quickly, drawing a small sigh from Arthur. He looked at Francis for a moment and stood up, pecking a polite kiss to his cheek before scurrying out of the room before the heat rose to his cheeks. He stopped at their bedroom for only a moment to change his shoes- not wanting to raise suspicion by wearing out these new ones- and then finding his way back to the courtyard. He ran to the tower once it was in view, but with every step he slowed down a little. Dozens of beautiful plants were planted throughout the courtyard, but the closer and closer he came to the tower the stranger they seemed to become; roses of a dozen colors on one bush, flowers that shrank away from him as he passed, and some that seemed to watch him. He looked up at the tower, suddenly taking in how enormous it was and how very tiny he felt next to it. He felt a churning of sickness in his stomach but he stopped it, not wanting to turn back yet. He only managed a few steps before feeling his foot catch on something, most likely a mischievous plant of some kind. He tripped, giving a small cry of surprise as he fell face-first to the ground in front of the tower. "Ow…" he grumbled, pulling himself back up. He heard what almost sounded like tiny, tiny giggling, but he ignored it. He looked around worriedly to see if anyone had seen him fall, but with the dark clouds beginning to take their place above the castle it seemed that most had gone inside. He gulped, his eyes darting back to the tower. He started walking to it slowly again, staring up at it the entire time.

Francis smiled a little as his new wife left, adoring how she could even run gracefully. He made his way back up to their room, and seeing that Arthur had already gone to the tower he decided to take a short nap. He removed his clothing until he was left in nothing but his dress shirt and pants before flopping onto the bed.

The various inhabitants of the tower were laughing and singing and some even danced, all seemed to be celebrating the wedding if not a dozen other things at once. All of the kingdom's most intelligent- and most cheerful- people seemed to have gathered there. The head magician, a man capable of any feat of magic that could be imagined, seemed to have a place of honor among all of them. He reunited lovers, cured the deadliest of illnesses and ailments- even old age, as was obvious by his own appearance- and dozens in not hundreds of other things. Although he looked to older than twenty or so, he was rumored to be as old as written time. From a third story room he heard someone running toward the tower and excused himself from his current activity, going to find out who the mysterious visitor was. By the time he made it to the first floor he was quite out of breath from running down stairs, taking a moment to catch his breath before opening the large wooden door for Arthur. "'Ello!" he laughed a bit. So much running could really make one breathless. Without any warning or invitation he pulled Arthur inside, leading him to an unoccupied but ordinary looking room. "Ah, Arthur Kirkland…" he smiled a bit at him. He would liked to have said that he knew Arthur's name because he was magic and all that, but he had really learned it from the boy's younger brother while administering his medicine. "What ills you? What are you looking to change?" He looked him over, sitting him down. "Tell me and I will help you become your desire." He leaned in a bit closer and smiled at Arthur, hoping to give him some comfort in this leisurely place.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but stopped, staring into the man's eyes for a moment. How did he know his name? Did he know everyone? Did everyone know that he was secretly male? He gulped, his face paling visibly. "I-I, uh… w-well, F-Francis, um… everyone th-thinks that I'm a woman, b-but… I-I'm not." He whispered, glancing around in terror as if he expected someone to jump out at any moment. "I-I was worried, scared even of what I-I was going to d-do, b-but Francis told m-me that… th-that there were w-wizards, a-and alchemists here, a-and I was wondering i-if you had anything th-that could t-turn me into a w-woman…" He felt silly just listening to his own words. The Green Kingdom had never put much stock in magic, especially something that seemed like a sort of magical luxury, but Arthur had no other option. "I-is there anything that y-you can do?" he looked at the man desperately. He was beginning to feel dizzy, and since he had no idea that they were only three stories above the ground compared to the thirty-three that the tower stretched, he found the air to be much thinner than it really was.

The magician frowned a bit. "Well, why haven't you just told Francis yet to see if he accepts it? He's wanted to marry a man since the beginning after all…" He found it absurd that Arthur actually wanted to become a woman since he had been forced into the dress in the first place. "You must give me a reason to do this Arthur. If it is merely for appearance and because you want Francis to accept you, I can do no such thing." People only came for such a thing when they wanted it for themselves, and in their heart they needed to be the other gender. "Arthur is this because of the bloodline affair? It's an outwritten tradition, and I fully understand, but why would you want this? I know inside you want to leave and marry a nice girl and have it done that way, but this is serious and you need to explain."

Arthur bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed, although he hardly noticed. "I… I-I'm never going to meet a nice girl…n-not now" he felt like crying. This man wasn't going to help him. He was going to be killed because of his gender, and Francis… Francis would hate him. "I-I'm never going to have a family if I d-don't do this… m-my own family is l-long gone, a-and everyone i-is expecting m-m-me to carry on th-the bloodline so th-they wouldn't l-let us adopt a child, a-and… I-I want a family of m-my own..." he choked back a sob and hid his face in his hands. He thought of little Peter, how he had felt more like the boy's mother than his brother at times when they had been forced to hide in the deepest dungeons of their own castle to escape capture, how even now he would have dreams of the sweet little child and would often wake up to find that the boy had curled up next to him in his sleep. "P-please… i-if I can't d-do this, I-I fear I m-may never have a family again…" He was begging now, but he had already lost hope for the situation.

The man listened to his story, his mouth agape. "Arthur… you know that all of this can be settled if I just give you the ability to bear children, alright? You'll still get to be yourself, nothing else will change. I thought that you were a woman when I first saw you…" he sighed, smiling a little. "You'll still be a man, nothing more will happen. All that will change is that you'll be able to have children... Although, I am sorry that you're being forced into this. I was married for nearly ten years before my wife and I decided to have children." He gestured up to the ceiling where people could be heard singing and dancing, presumably his wife among them. "It's all that I will do for you Arthur, there's no reason for you to be forced to change gender in all of this." He knelt in front of Arthur, removing the trembling hands from his face and looking into his eyes. "But you must tell me, are you sure that this is what you want? If you go through with it, it can never be undone…" he said seriously.

Arthur nodded, looking at him hopefully. "Y-yes, it is… please, do whatever you can." He smiled, the tiniest spark of hope shining in his eyes. He knew that Francis might still get mad at him when he found out about his lying, but if this was the closest he could get then he would take it. His heart fluttered lovingly at the thought of a little Peter of his own, one that would never be taken away from him and that would still continue the Bonnefoy's stupid bloodline. He would have rather become a full woman, even if it would be strange and hard to get used to, and it would have crushed his suspicions. But if what the magician said was true and Francis had really wanted a man all along, maybe this really was the better option. "C-can we do it now though? H-he's expecting me back any moment…" he mumbled, his cheeks pinking again.

The magician was much relieved that Arthur had decided to take the option he had given to him, seeing as this would take much less time and pain with more immediate results. He removed a spell book from a large bookcase in the corner of the room, placing his thumb on Arthur's neck and murmuring some words. There was a sort of harmony between them, and Arthur slowly started to relax under the man's touch. The spell was all very natural and quick, and it seemed over all too quickly as the magician chanted some final words and sprinkled some ground herb over Arthur for good measure. There was a quick clinking sound and he stopped, smiling a little. "How do you feel?" he asked. He knew that Arthur would probably just say that he felt no difference, but the man had to be sure. He hadn't performed the procedure in such a long time, and he knew that it was vitally important that Arthur leave the tower unharmed. "It's sure to work and once it...happens...You can always see me again for health advice or anything else." He had always been quite fond of the Kirkland family, having lived in their kingdom before the war or the current generation started.

In the castle, Francis had awoken and was pacing back and forth in their room. He had been a bit worried when he woke up and Arthur hadn't come back yet, beginning to panic.

Arthur hopped up, hugging the magician tightly before running from the tower. "Thank you!" he laughed a bit, running from his room and through the courtyard- careful not to trip this time- and into the castle. He stopped suddenly when he reached their room, a sudden nervousness washing over him. He waited only a few moments to catch his breath before straightening himself a bit and stepping into the room. "Francis…?" he whispered, locking the door behind himself. His voice was just the tiniest bit higher, but he didn't notice it at first. He slipped out of his shoes and placed them by the door, his hands shaking a bit as he did so. "I-I'm sorry that I took so long… th-the tower was lovely, although a bit strange…" he looked at Francis and frowned a bit seeing his worry. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

When Francis saw Arthur he ran to him and pulled him into a nearly bone-crushing hug. "Oh, I was so worried, mon petite épouse, you took longer than I thought…" He seemed a bit stressed and on the verge of tears. He thought that she seemed slightly more feminine, although he thought that this was only because she was beginning to get used to being a bride. He pulled Arthur back to the bed with him, hugging him until the storm rolled in and he went to close the curtains so that the storm wouldn't wake them in their sleep. He glanced back at where "Alice" had been sitting. It was now pitch black inside of the room, not even the small amount of light that came through the bottom of the curtains being visible as the sun had just finished setting. Francis returned to the bed and pushed her onto the bed, growling playfully. The needy, uncontrollable lust that Francis had gotten from his father was beginning to take him over. "I need you so very badly, my love… It is our honeymoon." He begged. He pulled lightly at her dress, wishing desperately that it was already off.

Arthur was a bit afraid at the sudden lack of vision, and Francis acting like a maniac, but he realized that it could be used to his advantage and acted like he wasn't bothered by his sudden forcefulness. "G-goodness, unless y-you want to d-destroy the dress we'll n-need to unbutton it from the back first…" he whispered. He had no real concern for the dress, but he did somehow find a liking for the desperate begging. It made him feel as though he had a sort of power over the other. He turned himself over a bit to make Francis undo the buttons, taking pleasure in giving the other a hard time. "I'm sorry, I can't reach them myself…" he whined helplessly, trying not to laugh a bit. He reached back for Francis's hand, giving it a small squeeze as he found it and guiding it slowly to his back. He leaned forward and felt a slight lurching in his middle, wishing that he hadn't eaten so much food earlier. It had all been so good, he simply couldn't help himself. He turned his head back, not bothering to fake a desperate look when he knew it wouldn't be seen.

Francis felt his face grow hot as he allowed Arthur room to turn around. He undid the buttons in mere seconds, being used to undoing the backs of dresses by now. He threw the dress aside, removing his own dress shirt with it before moving onto Arthur's corset. Francis had removed his earlier before he had taken his nap. After what felt like half an eternity he was able to toss Arthur's corset aside. He turned the Green prince back around and placed a hand on his side, letting it work its way down to the remaining piece of clothing; the smaller skirt worn under the golden dress. "Mmm… even when it's dark, I can tell that your body is lovely…" he murmured. He leaned in a bit closer and kissed along his jaw line, his hand caressing Arthur's thigh. He failed to notice anything strange about "her" yet, not even her completely flat chest. He began to remove the skirt slowly, stopping only a moment to process the fact something felt off, but he ignored it and moved on. Once Arthur's skirt was off he removed his own pants, leaving them both in nothing but the final garment that covered the more… vital area.

Arthur smiled a bit nervously, although glad to have the heavy corset off after wearing it all day. Most of what Arthur heard was rustling of cloth so he assumed that Francis had taken his clothes off as well. He was all too relieved that he couldn't be seen, enough daring welling up in him to make him sit up and kiss Francis. As he did so he felt his last bit of clothing start to slip away under Francis's hands, drawing a soft moan of protest from Arthur. He had secretly been a bit thankful for the last bit of covering, regardless of the fact that it had been women's underwear. His legs were trembling slightly, and he tried to find any possible way to stall for time. Truth be told, he wasn't ready to do this yet. Granted he had done it dozens of times before, those times had always been forced on him suddenly and painfully and having been his first- and only- experience, he was a bit afraid of what was to come. He almost wished that he really had been turned into a woman, even if it was just so they could turn the lights on. He felt Francis's hand working its way lower and he gave a squeak of surprise, deepening the kiss to distract him. Anything. Anything to delay what was already so sure to come.

Francis kissed back at first, but was startled by the small cry from Arthur. "Are you alright?" he whispered against Arthur's lips, pulling Arthur into his lap with his legs spread apart. He thought that maybe his new wife just wanted a few minutes of simple affection before going any further, to which Francis was happy to oblige. He pulled Arthur into a deep kiss, exploring the deep cavers beyond his soft, pink lips, slowly pushing Arthur against the bed again. He could feel himself becoming more and more restless as he pulled the white ribbon from his hair, tossing it aside carelessly. He almost roughly moved Arthur's hips into position, continuing the kiss for a few more moments as the final article of clothing was removed from his own body. He gave Arthur no warning before pushing into him, gripping his hips tightly. He noticed almost no difference between this and his practice with the ever-so-willing maids, although he swore he felt something strange he chose to ignore it. He pulled all of himself into Arthur at once, using all of his strength to do so over and over until the mattress began to creak from Arthur being pounded into it so many times. If he had known Arthur's true gender he would have been much gentler, but as he saw "Alice" as his wife he felt the need to show his love to her. He had hoped that it wouldn't bother "Alice", but seeing that she was so clearly infertile he figured that there was no risk in any of it. Nothing could possibly happen.

Arthur's hands clenched the bed sheets tightly. It took every bit of willpower he had within him to keep himself from screaming in pain. He had to do this. He had to. He tried to keep telling himself this in his mind, but with every jolt of pain the thought was cut off until his mind was nothing but a blur. His heavy panting kept his gasping and sobbing from being heard. This was awful. Not even his time in the military camps had been as bad as this. He tried to scream in pain, scream to make Francis stop, but all that came out was a pained squeak. When Francis finally slowed to a stop, Arthur lay curled up and trembling with a sheet pulled up over his feet. His eyelids twitched a bit, a sign that he was still alive, and he reached a trembling hand down to pull the sheet up a bit more. He tried to bring himself to force a small smile but couldn't. "F… F-Fra…" he breathed.

Francis had been able to keep at it for at least another half hour before stopping, not seeming to notice that he was hurting Arthur. He mistook the squeaks of pain for those of pleasure. He only stopped because he finally felt a familiar warm churning in his stomach, slowing a bit as the sticky liquid seeped from Arthur's entrance. He pulled himself from Arthur and smiled a bit, panting softly. He leaned in closer to press a kiss to his wife's cheek, feeling tears against his lips but mistaking them again for tears of delight. A soft moan rose from Arthur's lips and Francis chuckled. "Je t'aime …" he said softly, pressing a kiss to her lips. Their lips were pressed together for only a moment before Francis frowned a bit, noticing that the other wasn't kissing him back. His mind went blank for a moment, and suddenly he snapped to the reality of what he had done. "A-Alice! I-I…" he laid by her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, desole… I'm so sorry. Please be alright. I lost control and couldn't stop-" And suddenly he did stop, the full force of his exhaustion hitting him at once and causing him to suddenly fall unconscious next to his wife.