Arthur sighed, sitting at the foot of the bed and just watching Francis sleep for a while. It was morning now, and the scent of tea and sex lingering in the air. A servant had brought them breakfast a short time ago and the unfamiliar sound had roused Arthur from his sleep. Luckily he had woken up hungry, so he didn't have the heart to complain. He sighed and munched on a piece of fruit, something he hadn't had in a very, very long time. Once the maid left Arthur let his gaze fall back to the golden-haired lump under the blankets, snubbing him and biting into the fruit as if he were biting Francis himself. He glanced at himself in the mirror. His short hair was tousled and tangled carelessly, the makeup covering his various scars and bruises had been rubbed away, and… well, let's just say that Francis may have made a bit of a mess. He shivered, having nothing on himself except a blanket that he had thrown on when the servant came in. He set the breakfast tray aside, tossed the blanket aside, stood up, and immediately regretted it. He was still horribly sore from the previous night, taking some time to ease into a standing position as not to fall over completely. Even when he could walk he found himself stumbling to the wardrobe, digging around in it a moment before pulling out a long bathrobe that went down to his knees and slid off of his shoulders a bit. He figured that it was probably something of Francis's but he didn't care, tying the string carefully before peeking out into the hallway. He managed to get the attention of a servant girl nearby and asked her where the bathroom was. She smiled at him knowingly and winked, leading him down the hallway. Arthur was sure that she knew what he wanted, but he wasn't sure of whether or not he should be insulted as to why she knew. He sighed, thanking her as he entered the bathroom. The room itself was huge, much bigger than any bathroom he had ever seen. There was large wash basin in one corner, big enough to comfortably seat two small children and possibly to wash a baby in. The bathtub it self was nearly ridiculous in size, and was big enough to seat at least two people if not perhaps a person and a half. It was also about halfway sunken into the floor, although he could tell that this was a design choice which meant that is probably had heated water in it. It took him a moment to figure out how to work the water faucets, as they weren't exactly a common thing even in the homes of royals, and when he finally did he was so startled by the rush of hot water that he struggled as much to turn it off as he had to turn it on. By the time he did get the water to stop the tub had filled about halfway, giving off a lot of steam and covering the large mirrors that dotted the walls. He sighed, undressing himself and waiting a while for the water to cool before sinking into the water. He frowned a bit at how much space was still in the tub, hoping that he had remembered to lock the door in case Francis woke up and wanted to join him. Francis… He frowned, kicking his foot and making a slash in the water. As angry as he was at the man about the previous night, he was still a bit afraid of facing him. He growled, hiding his mouth under the water. "Th-that idiot…" he muttered, making a few bubbled as he spoke. Arthur decided that he would avoid him all day if he could, but would at least try to enjoy himself if he did.
Francis woke up very slowly, lying in bed for a while with his eyes closed until he realized that his dear Alice was no longer there with him. He sat up a bit and stretched his arms, glancing around himself. The bed sheets were tangled together, tossed over each other, and a large, gaping tear in the mattress that had been made during his and Alice's lovemaking the previous night. Their dinner clothes were littered around the floor, most of it flung carelessly aside. Francis climbed out of bed and picked up his dress shirt from the previous evening, slipping it on. He was still a little sore and quite hazy, not even noticing the extra padding in Arthur's corset. He stumbled back to the bedside to put his shoes on and to look at his little plan book, smiling a bit. He had a free day today. There would be no work, no fuss, and no rush to get his butt downstairs for a rushed breakfast. He went to the vanity and tied his hair up with a blue ribbon, noticing the breakfast tray sitting by the bed. It had been made obvious that Arthur had eaten his half and left, no doubt just to be away from him as soon as possible. Francis ate his own breakfast and walked to the window, looking outside. The capitol city surrounding the palace had long since woken up, and people were already bustling through the streets. The traders were showing off the things that they had gotten from other far-off lands, children played in the streets, running aside whenever a carriage came by. It was as sweet sight to see, and if he were only younger he might ask if he could go join them. He soon got bored of simply watching them though, finishing his breakfast and wandering downstairs to the music room. A piano and a harp sat in one corner, along with a few long rows of chairs with an instrument at each. He went to the piano, seeing as it was the only instrument in the room that he could play, and opened the song book to the seventh page. It was a song he knew by heart, one that a nobleman from a far-off land had taught him to play. He played the song continuously for about an hour before his hands cramped up and he remembered that he still had no idea where Alice was. He went around asking the servants if they had seen her until he came to one that said that she had gone to take a bath, although of course by the time Francis got to the bathroom she was long gone.
Arthur had come and gone from their room, changing into a looser green silk dress rather than a large hoopskirt like the ones he'd been wearing all of the previous day. He had now decided to see if there was a library he could hide in, somewhere that he wouldn't have to worry about Francis bugging him for more love. After several minutes of searching based on the directions of a mute child servant- god knows why he worked here- he did, at last, find his place of refuge. It took him another couple of moments to marvel at the sheer quantity of books. The room itself was nearly as large as the dining room. Not only did the shelves go to the ceiling- which was a good seven feet from the top of Arthur's head- but they were also stocked so full of books that it appeared that they had run out of space to put them all, stacking them in corners or next to the shelves. Arthur felt that having not seen a book in ages that he would simply look at them for a while, walking between the shelves and smiling a bit to himself until he found a quiet, undisturbed corner of the room. He soon found the reason why it was so void of people; all of the books were in his own language, not the one anybody here spoke or read. He settled on the ground next to a shelf and picked up a book that lay on the floor, opening it. The sudden rush of words to his eyes took some getting used to, although once he remembered how to read he realized that he was on the copyright page. He frowned a bit and turned to the first real page of the book, taking about four minutes to read the first chapter before he decided that the book was horridly dull and looking at the shelf for something more entertaining. He spent quite a bit of time just looking at all of the books. So many old and new ones, books that he had seen when he was young and entire trilogies that he had never heard of. Had he really been locked away for so long that an entire trilogy could be written in that time? He sighed, taking up a book with a strange but interesting picture on the cover and moving to take a seat by the door.
Francis checked their bedroom first, glad to see that their room had been cleaned up. The maid had even fixed the tear in the mattress that Arthur created while scratched at it in pain, and the small bit of blood that had been on the sheets. He went to their wardrobe and picked out a fine gray vest, pulling it over his dress shirt. It felt strange being a husband, as un-husband-like as he had been acting. He decided that he would go talk with some of the bachelor noblemen, whom he had considered to be his friends. They weren't as wildly fun as the people in the magician's tower, but they played bets and dealt cards and acted in the way that gentleman would. His father had wanted him to be friends with them, and so he at least tried to act friendly. He found them sitting at a table in one of their rooms playing a card game, none of them looking up when he came in. "Desole…" he muttered.
"Sorry? Says the man that leaves his newlywed wife alone in the library. You'll have to be careful Francis, or else we might have to take her for ourselves." A ripple of laughter passed through the group of men, all of whom laughed except for Francis. He simply stomped off toward the library in search of his wife. When he arrived there he was a bit surprised to see her sitting by the entrance, so absorbed in her book that she didn't even seem interested in him. Francis wished that he shared her passion for books, having spent a good deal of his time at parties and with his unmarried friends to get anywhere near even a single page. He went to another shelf and found his favorite book, a play that his mother used to read him on occasion. He found a seat not too far from Alice's, opening to the first page and smiling a little at the first familiar words. The love interest of the main character reminded him so much of Alice that whenever he looked up he couldn't tell if he was daydreaming or not, unable to tell whether it was the character or just Alice sitting so very close to him. He read on to his least favorite part, letting the book fall from his hands with a thud.
Arthur jumped, startled by the sudden noise. He looked around for the source and froze when he saw Francis. His face paled. Where had he come from? He hadn't seen him come in. He picked up his book and walked briskly past him, hiding behind one of the shelves. He looked around, spotting another seat in the corner. His first thought was of course to sit in the chair, but he decided that since he didn't want Francis to see him that he would sit behind the chair. He nestled himself in the small space between himself and the corner, smiling a bit. Cramped as it was, there was enough room for him to hide somewhat comfortably from Francis for a little while. He opened his book again and started to read. The familiar words took him back to the days of his childhood, before he had been married or imprisoned or before Peter had even been born. Arthur had been the youngest child of the at the time four brothers, and he had gotten more attention from his mother and nanny than his brothers did- not that they really cared, but it always made him feel special. The voice of the kind older woman reading the story to him brought the characters to life before him. He enjoyed this feeling of youth, of freedom, of happiness for only a few moments longer before he blinked, and it was gone. He frowned a bit and peeked out from behind the chair, fearing that Francis had seen him.
Francis still sat shaking in his own chair, not even noticing when Alice ran past him. It was the part of the story in which the mayor took pity on a sweet little servant girl, doing all in his power to adopt her himself and give her all that she wanted. Francis always hated this part because he was reminded of his father and their non-existent relationship. They fought almost constantly when he was a child, and Francis always, always lost those fights in some way or another. While Alice enjoyed her story as far from him as she could get he sat there dreading his own, tears falling from his eyes and not even bothering with his cheeks before falling to the ground. Then he realized what he had done to Alice. He had hurt her, even after having promised her parents that he would keep her safe. He stood up, leaving the book where it lay in the floor and looking for her, whispering her name softly until he found her. He found himself smiling when he saw the cover of the book, although it broke his heart to think that this was the first time that he had seen her smile. Without even a single word he ran to her side, collapsing next to her and pulling her into a tight hug, crying and begging her to forgive him for being such a horrible idiot. He held her close and sobbed and cried that he would never hurt her again.
Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when Francis attacked him with his sudden, strange affection. He sat in shock for a few moments before hearing the sweet words mingled with loud sobbing, frowning a little and deciding not to push him away just yet. He really wasn't sure whether or not he could trust him, especially after last night. He wasn't even sure that he was ready to talk to him again yet. If it weren't for the safety of his family being on the line he probably would have run away by now. His hand placed itself gently on Francis's hair, although Arthur shrank away from him a little bit. "I-it's okay…" he murmured, hoping to provide some form of comfort to the man. He couldn't think of anything more meaningful to say. He couldn't tell him that it wasn't his fault, or that it hadn't been so bad of him, but both of those things were horrid lies. "It… it's okay, b-but can we maybe n-not do it again for a while…? Please…?" He asked hopefully. The thought of the magician's words came to his mind again, but he shivered a bit and hoped that they hadn't gotten quite that far. He wasn't ready for a child yet. He pulled Francis's face up so that their eyes met, giving him a sweet but utterly fake smile. "It's okay…"
Francis held her close for as long as he could, still sobbing and choking a bit. "I-I'm never going to hurt you again... I-I'm never going to let anything h-happen to you… I-I'm so sorry Alice, it w-was all my fault, I-I just couldn't control myself…" His voice had started to get louder, but quieted again when he heard her request. "A… a while?" It was almost an insult to make such a request of a member of the Red royal family, as they were known especially for their romance and passion. "I… I'm not sure… I will be more gentle next time." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Arthur's neck and pressing a finger to his lips. "Shh… Let's not let something like this tear us apart, oui? It's just going to be the two of us together in our new life, and we will always have each other. I can show you my love for you every day, and I will never, ever hurt you again." He sighed softly. "Just the two of us…" He continued to just hold her there for a while, pressing them closer and closer together until he could hear that her breathing was becoming a bit labored and he loosened his grip, leaving her to read her book. He got his chair from before and pulled it up next to hers, scooping her up and placing her in her chair before finally getting back to his book. He skipped many pages before he got to a part he liked; the young girl had grown into a beautiful woman and had met the love of her life, although she had been taken away from him only days before they were to be wed. It was a bit sad, but it reminded him of his own beautiful Alice.
Arthur sighed and picked up his book, staring at the page but not really reading it. He felt as though Francis hadn't listened to him at all, making silly promises that were sure to be forgotten and still wanting to get "Alice" in bed with him. It sickened Arthur. If this kind of thing went on, he would request a separate room. Hell, he would sleep on the floor if he had to, anything to escape another awful night like the previous one. He turned his chair away from Francis's in hopes of keeping the worry evident in his expression hidden. He couldn't believe that he had been so stupid as to let himself want this man's child. How could he have done this to himself? Their poor child… he glanced down at his belly, swearing that he saw a difference that wouldn't come for another few months. He groaned and pulled his book over his face. Not even the comforting voices in his head made him feel better now, which had just a short time ago helped him to forget all of his troubles. He felt tears prickling in his eyes and decided that he didn't even want to cry anymore, standing up and stomping back to the shelf where he had found his book at first. He sat down to place it on the low shelf but couldn't bring himself to stand up again, fearing that if he did Francis would notice him and just follow him again. He simply sat there, curled up against the bookshelf, crying softly to himself.
Francis sighed to himself, knowing that his story was about to become sad again. He glanced up at Arthur as he started to leave, although he swore that he saw tears in his eyes as he left. He frowned and stood up. He wanted to follow Arthur, but seeing him sit there and cry just broke his heart. He wanted to try and comfort her, to run to her side and wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be okay, but he knew that no matter what he did she would be unhappy and push him away and cry more and everything would be worse than when it started. A small sigh escaped his lips. Maybe they did need some time apart… although he knew that if they were apart for a while, it would likely be a long while. He took a few steps toward her and pecked a kiss to her cheek. "I-I'm going to leave you be for a while…" he whispered, starting back for the door to the library. He had no idea what to do, wandering the castle for what felt like hours before finding his way out to the gardens. He found a clearing surrounded by hedges and rose bushes and sat there, running his hands through his hair to help himself relieve some of his stress. He felt like he would do anything to make himself a better husband for Alice. He felt as though he had just snapped the previous night and it couldn't be solved. Alice had turned from his sweet, loving wife to this depressed creature that nearly refused to speak to him. She only seemed to be happy when she was doing anything that didn't involve him. He laid down in the grass and closed his eyes, considering going to the tower and seeing if they had some kind of potion or elixir that would magically turn him into a better person, but he sort of thought it a silly idea and gave up on it quickly. He would fix it with his remaining strength, although he didn't even feel strong enough to sit up. In truth, he was just being to harsh and overprotective of his new wife without really thinking of her at all. He couldn't notice the bruises that so obviously littered his flesh. He couldn't listen to her words. He didn't know what she liked, or disliked, or wanted from him. And when he tried to speak to her his words sounded vulgar and he could never think of a truly sweet thing to say. Somehow he thought that maybe something had changed in her, causing her to turn quiet and shy.
After a while of just sitting and crying Arthur found that he had simply run out of tears to cry, and sat sobbing dry tears. He pulled himself up, wobbling a bit as he did so. He had cried away all of his anger until all that was left was a sort of cold, bitter frustration. He wandered slowly through the library, hoping to find some other book to distract him from his brooding mood. Eventually, after quite a bit of wandering, he came across a dusty little corner where the carpet wasn't so worn away and it was so quiet that he could hear the pounding of his own heart. He looked the bookshelves up and down, realizing soon enough that not only were these books not in his language, but they were in a language that he had never heard before. He pulled out a book and flipped it open, going quickly from mild interest to being completely enthralled. Although he couldn't read a word of it, there must have been hundreds of pictures. Most of them were anatomical sketches of creatures that he had never seen before; Serpents with human-like torsos, jackalopes with wings and claws, and some kind of rabbit that also had wings. He closed the book, looking around to see if anyone was watching him and the stowing the book in a space between the shelf and the wall. He would come back for it later. For now, he was excited to go look for one of these creatures himself. He went to a nearby window, rubbed some dust from it, and peered out. It faced the garden, somewhere he was sure that he would find these creatures, but the first thing he saw was Francis laying in the grass. His gaze softened a bit and he gave a heavy sigh. The other looked so upset down there by himself. He wanted to be good to Francis, he really did, but… he was just such a damn idiot. He felt somehow that Francis didn't love him any more than he would love another girl, that he was nothing special, and especially that he didn't want to be married to him. A frown spread across his lips and he left the library, deciding that it was time for him and Francis to talk. To really talk, not just for him to cry and be scared of him and hope that he would just understand. "Such an idiot…" he muttered. As he came nearer and nearer to the garden his pace grew faster until he was running, stopping as he reached a hedge bordering the clearing that Francis lay in. He gulped, suddenly frozen. "F-Francis…?" he whispered.
Before "Alice" had found him Francis had been crying, crying as if it were all he was able to do. He felt simply awful. He realized how egotistical and selfish he had been, treating Alice as if she were just like him. She wasn't, he knew that she wasn't, she was so much more and was nowhere even close to him. Even his two closest friends were completely different. He only barely saw her from the corner of his eye, although he thought that it was just his imagination. At least until he heard the soft whisper. His name. He looked up at her. She seemed to be almost hiding behind a hedge shaped to look like a rabbit. "Alice…" he muttered, his gaze falling again. His eyes began to hurt from the tears and he sat up a bit, wrapping his arms loosely around his legs and resting his head on them. "I'm a bit surprised that you even want to talk to me now, after what I've done…" he admitted. "I wanted to believe that you were like be, that there was a piece of me somewhere inside of you, but… there simply isn't." He sighed. He didn't fee like being kind or loving, but he just kept making himself think that it would all be okay, that they were just going through a rough time.
Arthur sighed, taking a seat in the grass next to him. "Francis… y-yes, you were wrong, and you've been kind of an idiot, but…" he smiled a little, hoping to get the other to look at him and brushing a strand of golden hair away from his eyes. "I think that I can try and forgive you." He hesitated a moment, wondering if it would be alright to tell him his secret now. There were no servants around to hear him, and no walls with ears that told Francis where he was at all times and would surely start some gossip had they been inside. "I-I… F-Francis, I think that there's something th-that I need to tell you…" he mumbled. "No turning back now…" He took a shaky breath, preparing himself to give Francis news that could put his own life on the line. He spent a moment trying to collect his thoughts, thinking of what to say and how to say it, taking one of Francis's hands and pressing his lips to it for some kind of comfort. He really wasn't ready for this, but he did feel need to prevent another night like the previous one. "F-Francis, I… I-I might be… w-with child." He stopped, mentally kicking himself for changing his words at the last second. It was true, or at least it could have been with what the magician had done the previous day. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see Francis's expression.
Francis just sat still, eventually looking at Arthur apathetically. "It's not mine, is it?" he mumbled, his face blank. "If it were, you wouldn't be able to tell so early." He held his knees closer to his chest. "This joke really isn't funny Alice…" he pulled his hand away from her and said nothing more. He did so want to believe that what she said was true, that she would be having his child and that he would have a little one to call his own to hold in his arms and laugh with, to brings treats to when he left to town for a while. It had been his lifelong dream to have his own family, and the only thing that conflicted it was his dream of marrying a certain man. He knew that they probably would have adopted, but he would do anything if it gave him a family. Francis's gaze lowered to the ground, finding the grass to be much more interesting than anything Arthur had to say. He felt like his father, telling himself that this just couldn't be his child. Tears of sadness rolled unnoticed down his cheeks. Why did she have to tell him now? If she had only waited it would have been much more convincing. This little story sounded more like revenge for the previous night than anything else.
Arthur frowned, biting his lip. God, he had made things worse than they already were. "I… w-well, I sort of already knew that it would happen. I-I mean, um…" He sighed, taking yet another moment to collect his thoughts and think of exactly what he would say and how he would say it. "W-well, you remember yesterday, wh-when we were looking at that tower a-and you said that I could visit it after dinner if I w-wanted to? W-well, I did, and… I-I asked the m-magician to make it so that we could have children together… a-and, um, w-well at first m-my wish was to h-have my gender changed, b-but the magician wouldn't d-do that, s-so…" he felt tears prickling in his eyes. "F-Francis… I-I'm not Alice… I-I'm not a woman, I'm a m-man…" He looked at Francis, expecting the same uncaring face that he'd gotten before. Why did he have to be such an idiot? Then at least he could have explained it better. He felt a tear roll down his cheek but he ignored it, his hands trembling but moving away from Francis a bit.
Francis listened carelessly to every word, blinking in surprise only when he heard the last word. "A… a man? N-no, that's not possible…" he murmured, trying not to get his hopes up. "I mean, I suppose that I could see you being one, b-but… I…" he sat up a little and stared at him, unsure of exactly how to react to all of it. His wife, or husband rather, was not just carrying his child but was also a man. There were several long, agonizing moments spent in silence as he tried to think of something to say. Then, finally, he leaned in close to Arthur, pulling him into a hug and keeping him there for the longest time possible. If he was telling the truth, then Francis was the happiest man alive. He would have both of his dreams, that of marrying a man and still having a family of his own. "...I'll admit it's odd...But it explains your hips...and...well..." he hesitated a moment. He didn't want to tell of how he had felt something the previous night. "A-and your short hair." He added quickly, grateful that a replacement had presented itself in time. "Oh, c-could you be… C-could you be Arthur? Th-the prisoner boy that… I had fallen for…?" His heart fluttered a bit. Francis had fallen head over heels for Arthur the moment he was first captured, and when the wars finally ended he had cried continuously for nearly twenty-four hours. He had never expected to see him again. "My A-Arthur… having… my ch-child?" he asked, looking at him and smiling lovingly.
Arthur nodded hesitantly, hugging him back. "Y-yes…" he murmured, his eyes darting away from him. He was shocked that Francis was taking the entire thing so well, and even more shocked that he hadn't left him right there. "And I-I know, everyone thinks th-that I'm d-dead… I-I was sure that I-I would be if I t-told you…" He laughed weakly, looking up at his face. There was a few moment's silence from Arthur before he leaned up and pecked a shy kiss to Francis's lips, then hid his face in the crook of his neck. He hadn't thought that anybody, least of all Francis would fall in love with him with the state he had been in when he was captured. He had been bruised and bloody, starved half to death and nearly unconscious. It was no wonder that he didn't remember ever seeing Francis then. He felt tears in his eyes again, but they were happy tears. Francis wasn't angry with him, he loved him, and They were going to have a child. Arthur's heart fluttered at the thought of a little Peter of his own. He hoped that their child would have blue eyes like Francis's that so reminded him of his sweet youngest brother. He looked up at him, hoping that maybe Francis would change his ways now and be less cruel.
Francis grinned. He had never seemed quite the same since the disappearance of Arthur from his life, and seeing him again in his arms was like a miracle that he had thought to be impossible even when he had still thought him to be alive. The idea of a wedding to him had been like a personal slap in the face from his father, and he had opposed it with all of his heart. Francis held onto Arthur tightly, dulling his tears from dramatic sobs to just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. "F-for so many years, I thought that you were dead…" he mumbled. "I used to go by the dungeons late at night to see you, b-but if you woke up I would always run away… Every night it was like that until I realized… th-that the feeling was love." He looked down at him. "Oh, I wish that you hadn't gone through so much trouble just to try and please me. If you had told me sooner, then… well, last night would have never happened. It would have been sweet, and loving, like real lovers do…" He felt as if they had made up when Arthur gave him the small kiss, his heart fluttering in his chest. So much emotion filled him, and not the kind of forceful or rough love that had taken place before. It was a sweet romance, a sort of true love. He held onto Arthur for a little while longer. "S-so… I-I'm a papa now?"
Arthur chuckled and gave a small nod, trying not to be disturbed by the fact that Francis had watched him in his sleep. "Y-yes… or at least, you're going to be…" his face pinkened a little bit. The full realization that he was having a child suddenly hit him. He wondered momentarily if it would hurt to have a child but dismissed the thought. He would think about it later, when he could stand it better. "I-I, um... I-I'm sorry if I worried you for so long, wh-when I was locked up... I-I didn't know, otherwise I... I might have t-tried to see you." As much as Arthur wanted to think that this was untrue, he knew that he likely would have hidden if he had ever heard or seen Francis. Any unfamiliar footsteps heard in the endless labyrinth of the castle's dungeons were often greeted with either the shouting of insults and curse words, or the scrabbling of feet as they tried to carry themselves as far out of sight as possible. Arthur had been placed in one of the most unfortunate of the cells, being near the entrance with his older brother. Likewise, he had always been made an easy target for torture, target practice, or… well, anything else that the guards could dish out. He shuddered, absently clinging to Francis as he took time to re-bury the awful memories. "Please though, l-let's not ever have a night l-like last night... I-I'm still quite sore from it..."
Francis grinned proudly, although he knew that it would take some time to adjust to the idea of being not only a married man but a soon-to-be father. He hoped that he and Arthur would develop a closer relationship due to this… child. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about it now, but he would do anything to make sure that Arthur was happy through the time spent together. "Merci…" he muttered lightly. "I'm so sorry if it seems odd for me to watch you before. I was making sure the guards weren't hurting you too bad...But...I've seen some things I prefer not to explain." When Arthur held onto him tighter, he gave him a weak smile. "Shhh...I promise...And it will be a while before I actually consider doing something close to that..." The high, shrill screams of Arthur's that he had heard echoed through his mind. He sighed and laid them both lightly in the grass together, still in each other's arms. Last night truly must have been truly awful, and he still felt bad about it. "I'm never going to...I'm never going to hurt you again." He whispered, hugging Arthur more tightly. He thought of Peter, Arthur's own sweet little brother. He hoped that their child would be like him, not like Francis. He worried that their child would grow up scarred with horror and torture and unintentionally hurt the ones he loved. Francis frowned a bit and held Arthur as tightly as he could. "I won't let anything happen to you. Ever."
A small noise rose from Arthur's lips, as it had become difficult for him to breath in Francis's death grip. "A-alright, I-I believe you already… c-can you please let m-me go, it's g-getting hard to breath…" He laughed weakly, his facet turning pink from the lack of oxygen. One of the loose shoulder straps of his dress fell from his shoulders, laying in a way that showed far too much chest area than what would be appropriate for a lady. Lucky for him, he was not a lady, but the pink of his face turned from pink of suffocation to pink of embarrassment, and he tugged at the dress. The light but bright green of his eyes matched the color of the grass perfectly, and the ring on his finger looked like a small, golden flower had perched itself on his hand. He looked almost like a real woman. It was really no wonder that he had been mistaken for one before, as even he himself had stared at himself in the mirror when he had first been put into his wedding dress before realizing that he was staring at his own reflection. He looked at Francis and gave him a coy smile, his eyes darting away shyly. "Heh… l-lovely day, isn't t…?" he mumbled.
Francis let go of him when he realized how tightly he was holding on. "Je suis desole!" He cried, his eyes widening. He hadn't meant to hurt him, but his corrupt thought had been worrying him. He felt heat rush to his face as Arthur's dress dropped from his shoulders, glancing away but pulling it carefully back up for him. The closest he had ever seen to Arthur being completely bare was the previous day when he had dressed him. "It is...This was one of my favorite places to lay in. I used to spend all day in the grass and stare at the tower." He sighed happily, laying on his back and giving Arthur a bit of space. "Arthur, I…" he started, but stopped himself. He wanted to say that he wanted to see what he truly looked like as a man, in proper men's clothing, but was afraid of driving himself back to his former state of lust. "I love you." He said instead, smiling a bit. "I mean, if that's alright…" He stared up at the clouds. After a while of silence he looked at Arthur, deciding that maybe if they just talked more he would come to understand more of his feelings. "Arthur… what are you thinking of right now? What do you feel like?" he grinned a bit, eager to hear tell of his lover's stories. He wasn't one for telling stories, but when it came to listening there was nothing that he would rather do than listen to a good story.
Arthur blinked, a bit surprised by the question. "How it makes me feel…?" he repeated, giving a small sigh. "Well... happy, I guess. I'm still sort of getting to know you, but I think I'm starting to love you too... I mean, I know that this marriage was forced on me, and I hated you at first... I was terrified even. I sort of still am. I'm still trapped here, in the kingdom of my lifelong enemy, surrounded with people who want to hurt me or force me into things that no person should ever be forced into, but... I think I feel a little bit safer now, knowing that I have someone like you who cares enough to protect me..." he blinked, losing his train of thought. "Oh, I-I was rambling wasn't I?" he laughed a bit. "But, it's strange... I still remember the beginning of the war, just barely. I was eight or so I think, my mother was pregnant with Peter... I hadn't really taken the Red Kingdom seriously. It was sort of like one of those storybook villains in a children's story, and I sort of thought that the Green Kingdom was like the good guys, who would always win no matter how the odds were stacked against them. As the war went on, my middle brother Dylan and I were told about every detail by our father... well, every detail except that we were losing. We were so surprised when we were first captured, yelling at the guards and telling them that our army would destroy them. But then, well... after the first year or so, we started losing hope. One of my brothers, Cailean, was beaten to death by the guards... and then a few months later, sometime around Christmas, Dylan got sick and died..." he sighed sadly. "And then... we all sort of died on the inside. Time just went on, we lost track of how long... sometimes we would get news of things that happened. The only thing that kept us going..." he smiled a little, his eyes closing dreamily. "...was Peter. We would all take care of him, and play with him. We escaped at one point and almost lost Peter, but it was a short escape. It was Peter's first time outside, it was... and he was so happy. Even though it was nighttime, and it was so dark outside, he was happy just to be surrounded by so much color. I was eleven by then, and Peter was three. We made it back to the castle and had a sort of celebration, the best one we could scrape together, just us and the few servants who had stayed. The castle was being used as a sort of military fortress, and most of the people who had stayed in the capitol city had hidden there. They were growing food in the gardens or something, and we stayed there for another few years and then... w-well, then the siege happened. It was terrifying, and it all happened in one night. None of us knew what was going on until we heard the door being broken down and we looked outside and there was fire everywhere. It was horrifying really. Peter and I were running to the dungeons to hide, where we had a better chance of not getting hurt... Allistor was trying to fight against the soldiers. It's a wonder he survived really. It's a wonder than any of us did..." he sighed, glancing at Francis. "I... I'm sorry, I'm probably boring you aren't I?"
Francis listened with great interest, picturing everything that Arthur told him as if he ad been in Arthur's very shoes when it had all happened. He could feel the cold, musty night air on his face, and he could almost hear Cailean's final few breaths as sickness slowly took over. "That seems so… depressing." He mumbled, easily letting a smile overtake his expression at the bit about Peter. He thought for a moment of where he would have been at that time. "N-non, your story… it's probably the most interesting that I've heard in a long time. Ah, let's see… Um, when you were eight, that sound like around the time I would have been about eleven. I don't believe I know your age thought…" he chuckled, getting himself back to his point. ""At that time I hardly did anything. Mon papa was training me to be a soldier and to kill everything in sight. He said I needed to be bloodthirsty, and have my limbs made of iron." Francis shuddered in disgust. "Everyday he would train me with a sword and I would always hurt myself no matter what. I hated it. I wanted to be a gentleman and a painter, and my father hated it. He forced me to cut my hair and I...I could hear him call me a girl sometimes. He said I needed to be a man. Then, three years later, I was a knight for a while, and I killed everyone in the village. Blood. Death. Screams...Arthur, I killed children." His face was now pale and he was trying very hard not to speak. "Then the next day papa loved me for the first in my life. Even though I went on a rampage and killed that little town on the side of the Grey Kingdom...And that's why they call it a ghost town. Ever heard the myth of the Vicious Knight? That was moi. I just...snapped...and felt like I needed to kill everything and everyone, just..." Francis couldn't speak now and he could hardly even let himself soak that in any longer. "The war had started by then and I helped kill many other people. By the time I was 15 is when I stopped." He softly looked down. "What made me snap was...I...I don't know. I...I'm such a horrible person over it now." Francis couldn't cry since he was too strong for that. "...I...I honestly think it was because my father hated me so many years and because I lost you..." He shook and trembled. "Arthur...I feel like one day I might snap...and kill you and...and..." He couldn't even say the words, 'our child,' as it came out more like a choked cough. "...I honestly don't know how you think of me now."
Arthur was shocked into silence, and a bit of disgust not so much at Francis but at his father. Training his own son to become a killing machine. "W-well…I have to say that I admire your honesty." He said matter-of-factly, taking one of Francis's trembling hands in his own. "And I understand, m-my brother was the same way… w-well, not a killing machine exactly. He'd yell a lot and smack us around a bit, but he never meant any of it. He was fifteen when the war started, and he never liked the way that our father would lie and tell us of how great and powerful our army was and how it would win every battle. Sometimes, especially after Cailean died, he would just sort of explode and yell at the guards, try to attack them… They tried to beat him into submission, but he would never let them. He always fought back, always. Dylan and I were so proud of him…" he sighed, smiling a bit. He lightly kissed the band of gold around Francis's finger. "But… I suppose that you aren't quite like either of them, your father or Allistor… you aren't violent at heart. You weren't trained for the war, only to think that it would never come the way he was…" A vague memory rose to Arthur's mind of Allistor complaining, complaining of how the Green Kingdom had almost no reason whatsoever to be attacking the Red, and how he and Dylan would call him a coward and would be chased around the castle by him until they were worn out. "Maybe… all you need it someone to try and love you, someone in the world that makes you want to get up every morning just to see their smile, and to spend time with them…" he sighed, his thoughts drifting to Peter. He still remembered vividly the day that he had been born, the way his tiny blue eyes darted around the cell and how his sweet laughter filled the entire dungeon with hope and life. A few of the men that had been considered war criminals had become their friends that day, and although they were executed soon after they were always considered good if sweet little Peter could smile for them. Peter, who had been the center of all of their lives until they were split up in the attack on the castle. He looked up at Francis and saw Peter's eyes in his for a mere second, looking away quickly. "Erm, i-if you don't mind my asking… h-how old are you?"
Francis's heart fluttered at Arthur's words. "M-merci…Merci beaucoup..." He nearly felt like crying. Arthur could still find heart enough to try and love him, to see past all that he had done and all that he had let himself become and made him out to be something different. He felt amazing, living Arthur's words and clinging to them with all of his heart; All he needed was to love, and be loved. He sighed dreamily as his ring was kissed. "...You know...I have this thing about me...I can never sleep or even go to bed unless someone is next to me...Or in the next room...It's odd Arthur...You see..." He took a hand free and ran it lightly over the other's cheek. "When you love someone very much, you memorize everything about them. Every little sensation or the cute smile they have when they are happy. You memorize their heartbeat and the way they breathe. You memorize their waking moments..." He gave him a little kiss. "My mother says I'm 3 years older than you. However, I've seemed to have forgotten my age. I don't care for birthdays anymore." Francis was actually a bit worried that Arthur would actually be as young as he looked. That concerned him a little bit; they had already been married for almost an entire day and they didn't know each other's ages yet.
Arthur wasn't surprised that there was such a difference between their two ages, although he still thought nineteen seemed so mature compared to his own age of merely sixteen. Sixteen was far too young to be married, not that he'd had a choice. "I b-believe that makes you nineteen…" he mumbled. It actually scared him a bit, being married at the age of just sixteen and losing himself even before that. "Although, I don't know much about numbers… even when we had nothing to do but lay around in the summer heat I couldn't teach myself to count above thirty without getting bored…" he frowned a bit. Even now he couldn't count much higher than fifty. He would try to teach Peter to count on occasion, but he would usually end up listening enviously as the boy far passed one hundred before getting jealous and suggesting that they do something else. "I know how you feel, trying to sleep alone... on our first night home in years, after being stuck in a cell together for who knows how long... it was nearly impossible to sleep. I ended up inviting Peter into my bed. He was a bit afraid too, being scared of the dark as he was... we were already sharing a room, but even that seemed like too much space for two people to have for themselves. I think it will be nice, not being locked up again... other than last night, I haven't been in a bedroom in over a year." he hesitated, realizing how strange that sounded and blushing a bit. "S-so, um... wh-what I guess I'm trying to say is, uh... I-it will be kind of nice, I suppose, h-having someone to sleep with..." he mumbled, his cheeks heating up.
Francis felt a little bad for Arthur, having gotten married and pregnant at the young age of sixteen, although the idea of such a thing was nothing unfamiliar to him because some of his own siblings had barely been older than him when they'd started their own families. "Nineteen? I feel old…" he chuckled. "Oh, what I wouldn't do for a little Peter of my own…My parents decided I would be their last child so it's so odd. My siblings envy me and I hate it. But to have this little person who is so innocent and that can make you smile everyday is all I need. He was the first person to smile at me in ages." He sighed happily. "I'm glad to hear that he kept you happy for all of those years, I can tell that it had an effect on you." Francis smiled a bit. He thought it unlikely that the child would turn out exactly like Peter. If anything, he would probably be more like himself and Francis, although he hoped that their child would only keep his eyes and his mostly-loveable side. His hand crept over Arthur's, taking it into his grip. "I don't want to think about it and it keeps plaguing my mind...But...You said Peter was so different, and I know that none of your brothers have blue eyes except for him...Does Peter look like anyone else besides you?" It scared him since he saw a slight little resemblance with him and Peter. "I'm sorry to ask...It's just...Peter...he...It's so hard to explain. I've never seen him before and I think I have. Realizing I'm going to be a father has caused me to think this...But...don't you think...just by how likely it is...this child could be just like Peter?"
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Hey guys, quick update: Thinking of posting a chapter every Friday/Thursday. Maybe some feedback on that? Thanks.