Snow piled on the window sill of Arthur and Francis's bedroom, reflecting the morning sunlight like mirrors. A soft but chilling breeze blew into the room, floating across the face of the latter of the two blondes and waking him up. Francis sat up slowly, propping himself up on one elbow. Things had changed in the past months. It had really become much harder to track time for him, but the seasons told him everything. He and Arthur had been married not long after his birthday, and seeing as it was now barely a week until Christmas and they were actively packing for a holiday trip he knew that it had to have been about five months, and it showed in Arthur clearly. There was no longer doubt in Francis's mind about Arthur's being with child, as the small bump was beginning to show. They had fixed quite a few of his dresses to fit his new size, and while they were now not quite as flattering they were better for him than other dresses were. His eyes fell to his side, the golden bob of his lover's unruly hair sticking up from under the covers. His expression softened. He worried for Arthur constantly; that he'd get sick or hurt, or be stolen away from him again, or that he'd be killed from childbirth. The latter was so far off he tried not to think of it, but he heard so many stories… Francis shook his head, frowning a little. He settled next to Arthur close enough so that his hair hung over the other's face, managing to put on a little grin.

"Good morning mon amour, it's snowing out." He whispered, his lips pressed against the side of Arthur's face in not-quite-a-kiss. "The snow is nearly as beautiful as you are… tell me, how are you this morning?" The lump under the covers shifted slightly, but Arthur didn't roll over. His head turned to meet Francis's lips.

"Tired… and I can't roll over with this weight in my belly." He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and heaved himself onto his back. "I've been worrying about our holiday… suppose my family doesn't like you…" If Arthur had been smiling, he wasn't anymore. Worries surfaced in his mind like a body to the top of a swamp, unwanted and so old than frankly they were beginning to annoy him. "I mean, I know they don't like you already, b-but this is our opportunity to prove yourself to them, a-and they'll think it's your fault that I'm in this condition… oh, a-and whatever will Alfred say… I know it's likely he may not even by interested in me anymore, but I'd hate to ruin my friendship with him over something like this…" his voice shook, but he wasn't quite in tears yet. He didn't have the strength to cry. Besides, the thought of losing Alfred came to him so often that it almost didn't bother him… almost. He found that he was quite often tired or moody like this, brooding on things that didn't matter, and trying to distract himself by exploring or deciphering his book. The garden was also a sort of safe haven away from the noise and bustle of the castle during the day, but at night- or rather as soon as the sun started to touch the horizon- the guards started to block it off. He did run into the noblemen on occasion, but now they usually hurried past him, seeming to accept the fact that he was Francis's. That or they just didn't like him in his… current condition. He usually got a chuckle out of watching them, but it was a thin silver lining around a dark cloud that seemed insistent on zapping him in the bum every few minutes to remind him why they scurried away- that is to say, he felt awful most of the time. Francis had begun taking up odd jobs in some of the smaller villages to occupy his time, and while Arthur couldn't be happier he was doing so it always felt like he was trying to avoid him. Francis would almost always leave before Arthur woke up, and wouldn't return until he was finishing up his dessert or settling into bed. They rarely spoke like they did now, and when they did it was often Francis telling him of how the children in the villages were doing. In all honesty, Arthur felt like he was spending more time with those children than he was with his own. He shifted a bit so that he faced Francis, dark circles around his eyes from another night's light sleep.

Francis sighed, wrapping his arms around Arthur and letting one hand rest over his belly bump. "Non, non, we're going to be fine. I know Allistor and Alfred want me dead because of our relationship, but if worst come to worse and we have to explain this child, then I'll be prepared. I'll do anything to stay with you. We'll be together like always."

"Like always…" Francis chuckled, hiding the faltering in his smile by pecking a little smooch to Arthur's lips. If they were 'always' together, then he could just as easily say that Arthur was 'always' in a good mood, or that he was 'always' pleasant to be around. His lover always snapped at him, moody as he was, and when he wasn't moody he was often sick. On the rare occasions Arthur was in a good mood it was often spoiled by Francis's absence, and in the even rarer event that the two were together Francis often had to leave only moments later. This would probably be the first time in ages that they had really gotten to be together, although with their upcoming holiday they could only hope that they'd get more time like this. Mostly undetected by Arthur, however, Francis had been piecing together a nursery for their child in the room they had picked. He frowned a bit when he saw Arthur's face, dark circles and unnoticed tears slipping down his cheeks. "Cher, I promise, we're going to be okay...I'll do anything to keep it that way. But...It's...It's going to be hard to explain all of this. We'll only tell Peter that he's going to be an uncle and let everyone else find out slowly. You should be happy, you're going to see the people you love." Francis smiled sadly. He would hate to see Arthur yelled at or in trouble with the people who loved him, the people who he missed and adored and hadn't seen in ages. For all they knew, Arthur had become like Francis's little pet or something over the past five months. This was something Francis was eager to disprove. "You'll see, everything will be wonderful."

Arthur frowned and shook his head. "No, if we tell Peter he'll just tell everyone else… our best hope would probably be to assume Alfred will comment on how fat I've gotten and that Allistor will let us leave it at that." He sighed, turning his upper body so that he could snuggle up to Francis. If such a comment was made it wouldn't be the first time Alfred had shown concern over Arthur's weight. He had often snuck him food and nagged him about how thin he was, and how nice as a lady with a slim waist was he'd like to see Arthur with more 'meat on his bones' (such comments usually resulted in Alfred earning a slap across the face and Arthur scarfing down whatever sweet he'd been brought while Alfred recovered.) When compared with him, Alfred could make anyone look like an anorexic, especially someone who ate as little as Arthur. Truth be told, Arthur had been not only eating less these days but believed he had a good reason for doing so; he couldn't seem to think of his new waistline as anything but extra weight. He knew it was a baby, but he just didn't think of it as such. It didn't feel like there was something living inside of him, a tiny new life which required more food. Arthur often ignored his hunger to the point that it no longer bothered him, although his weight had stayed about the same since he started living with Francis, it may have even gone up a bit. He gave another long, heavy sigh and let one arm wrap around Francis, his head resting in the space between his arm and his torso. He heaved himself over so that his belly faced Francis.

"Tell me Francis, and be honest, am I horribly ugly?" he mumbled, looking up at him. The state of his body coupled with the desperate, hollow look in his eyes made it difficult to say no, but Francis managed.

"Non. You've only become more alluring. You have our child inside of you, how can I see that as anything but beautiful? Although on the topic of our child, I think that we have to tell someone. If we keep it a secret, how would we explain if they see us months later with a baby? Most of the castle here knows after all…" He traced a hand down Arthur's pristine figure. Both of their bodies had changed since their first meeting. Arthur's muscles had started to fade and, not being replaced with any fat, he would have become quite thin were it not for the child. His arms and legs had become creamy white but had gone from slender to practically bony. He would have been alright with it if it had been caused by Arthur's feeling sick, but if he was intentionally starving himself it would just break Francis's heart. Francis himself, on the other hand, had also undergone some physical change. In contrast to Arthur, however, he looked better than ever. He'd become stronger, his skin tanned slightly from hours in the sun and his hands roughened like fine sandpaper. He was starting to look like a man. "Arthur, you've been eating haven't you? And getting your rest?" Arthur stared at him a moment, mouth slightly agape, before his eyes darted away.

"W-well, I…" he hesitated a moment. "I have at least been trying to, but…y-you see, I keep waking up in th-the middle of the night, and... w-well, I read my book a bit, and then I'm not tired anymore, and you always get up so early, and..." he trailed off, hoping to avoid the topic of food. He couldn't deny that he loved all of the food served to him- in fact it was probably his favorite thing about living there- but it always made him feel like such a glutton. Of the two chefs that worked in the kitchen most hours of the day, the eldest Yolanda, would often pull him aside. Despite his royal status she wasn't afraid to pull him by the ear to the kitchen, sit him down with a large piece of cake or something else delicious and not allow him to leave until he had finished every bite. Sometimes she would even make him eat two. It was ironic really; he had never had access to so much food in all of his life, and yet now that he did he was almost afraid to ask for any for fear of being seen as a pig. He had heard tell that in some places the nobles would eat such large meals that they would throw up to empty their stomachs for more. The idea revolted him, making him shudder at the mere thought. "Ah, l-let's just not think about it now…" Francis frowned inwardly but, weighing his options, decided it was better not to ruin his special Arthur time.

"…Oui, if you insist, but please be sure you're staying healthy." He mumbled. As far as he knew Arthur would be alright though, if he started eating more. He didn't drink-unless he had discovered the decanter hidden under the bed, if so it was unknown to Francis- and the worst of his injuries had long since healed. He barely needed makeup to cover himself anymore. "Well, I suppose that all that really matters anyway is that you and the child are well..." he chuckled, combing his fingers playfully through Arthur's hair. "I have been thinking, and I've made a decision; I want our child to be a little boy." In truth he wanted the child to be just like Peter, but he wouldn't say it. "I haven't thought of names yet..." He laughed a little. "However...This child will just be like us...blood and mind. That's what is important." He glanced out the window, watching the falling snow. The tower had a bunch of owls flying over it as if they were all catching snow mice. Arthur had gone there to be able to have children, and Francis wondered if they could have some magic that would protect him and his starting family. However, he had gone this far as to make Arthur drive himself to such a thing, and he thought that perhaps it was too much. "I hope spring comes soon." He muttered, off topic.

Arthur found himself speechless again from the confidence in Francis's voice. "He can't really mean it, can he?" he thought. Surely Francis knew just as well as anyone else that Arthur had no control over the gender of the child, although it wouldn't matter; if he couldn't give Francis exactly what he wanted he was sure he'd be blamed for it. He had heard stories of men- even rumors about his own father- who would kill their wives were they not given a boy as their firstborn, things that were always whispered and joked about but which terrified him now. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his life at Francis's hands because of something so trivial, of being rejected and likely killed from something he had no control over. He rolled onto his back again, away from Francis's grip. "Y-you wouldn't be mad though, i-if it t-turned out not to be a boy, w-would you…?" he asked. Francis sat up a bit, allowing Arthur to wiggle from his grip.

"I don't mind either, I'd just prefer-" he started, but Arthur was gone. Pain had begun to grip his insides and he decided that he didn't want to wait to hear his answer anyway, jumping up and running from their room to the bathroom down the hall. He found himself gagging almost the entire way there, clenching a hand over his mouth until he reached the room and slammed the door shut behind him. A bucket sat in the corner- the servants had placed it there for just such purposes as these- and he all but collapsed at its side, coughing and choking before the contents of his stomach rose to his throat and poured from his mouth. The process repeated itself until a foul-smelling, brownish liquid filled about half of the bucket. The churning, aching pain in his stomach did lessen a bit once it was empty, but as always he got shivers when it was over. Half-heartedly he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, easing back against the wall.

It took Francis a few moments to process what had happened, not snapping from his thoughts until he heard the door slam far away. He huffed a sigh and slowly heaved himself out of bed, not bothering to rush as he had the first few times. He did want a son, although he'd love their child no matter what it was he only wanted a boy because it was what he was used to. The only women he'd had in his life were Jeanne and his mother. When he had pulled on a bathrobe he went to join Arthur in the bathroom, kneeling at his side and pulling him into his arms, the robe blanketing him like a pair of wings. "I've no official business to attend to today, and very little work. If you'd like, we could do something together…" he offered. Arthur was quiet a few moments, snuggling up to him and coughing weakly before speaking again.

"W-well… i-if it's possible, I would like to come with you to the town today. You always speak of such adventures there, such fun you have, but I feel like I never get to see you. I-it might be nice to go with you instead, cut out the middle man…" he chuckled.

"Certainly." Francis chuckled, pulling his lover into his lap. "I don't believe I'm doing anything too strenuous today, just reading for some children." A small grin overtook his expression. "You'll just love the village. It's not far from here, a little place called Wayfall." His hands worked their way to Arthur's shoulders as he watched the younger man's eyes slip closed, kneading his frail shoulder blades. "It's simply lovely at this time of year. They've had snow a little longer than us so the children have had plenty of time to play in it, they clear all of the streets to build forts and things in front of the shops, it's the sweetest thing... There isn't much of a guard though, just the men who take shifts from day to day watching the gate. The village itself is run by an old widow, a red-haired woman called "The noble Kay", I believe…" he scooped Arthur up, wrapped his legs around his own waist, and carried him from the bathroom back to their bedroom. "We'll get dressed, and we can leave when you're ready, oui?" Arthur gave him a nod, his face turning a soft pink.

"Y-yes, I'd like to leave as soon as possible…" he mumbled, dropping easily from his arms when they reached their room again. He immediately went to the closet and took his favorite dress- although he still cursed himself for having a favorite dress- and a little pair of green slippers, along with boots for the snow. Francis helped him strip off his nightclothes, fold them somewhat neatly, and then toss them aside to be worn that night. This habit of re-wearing the same clothes was something that Arthur had insisted on, and though Francis thought he should have done otherwise the servants appreciated the lessening of laundry.

"Francis, you know I can dress myself just fine…" he muttered, squirming a bit as Francis helped him into the hoops. Admittedly it had become difficult now with his belly, and there was no doubt it would only get even more so, but he was still capable of doing so. Francis just chuckled and pecked a kiss to his jawline.

"I'm happy to help mon amour, you'll have to get used to accepting help with dressing anyway." He chuckled. "Come on now, let's get finished up…"

…

A soft sprinkling of snow whipped past Arthur's face as the hood on his cloak fell from his face. Had he known they would be getting to the village by horse he realized he should have thought twice before accompanying his spouse- although he knew he would have come anyway. His arms were wrapped around Francis's middle so tightly that he genuinely feared crushing the other like a boa constrictor would a mouse, but by the time he started actually worrying about this happening they had reached the village gates. He glanced around, his arms slowly snaking back to his sides with a nervous little chuckle.

"Heh… th-that was nice…" he mumbled. Francis smiled knowingly and took his hand, leading him up to the humble stone archway. Inside there was a long cobblestone road lined with little shops and restaurants. In front of each shop sat snowmen, two or three each, dressed up like people. Several stood at attention just outside the gates, watching for intruders while holding wooden shields, each featuring a different image; a bunny, a cloud, a sword, some indistinct splatters and blobs of color, a stag, another bunny… a humorous little smirk overtook Arthur's expression. The efforts of the village's children were displayed in such ways all the way down the street up until it reached the end, where the road turned off in two different directions like a 'T' as if driven aside by the colossal building that sat centered before the end of the road. In front of the building stood a wrought-iron gate, and in front of that the road was nearly completely clear of snow. Children ran, chased, talked with, played with each other here. Some areas of the snow was stained a different color- red, yellow, green, violet, cerulean- and cans of cheap paint sat around with partially frozen paintsicles dripping from their paintbrushes. Arthur ran around the street looking at the snowmen, his smirk spreading into a wide grin.

"Francis, this place is amazing!" he laughed, running to the other and throwing his arms around his neck in a hug. Francis swept him up, spun with him once, and set him down. He had also taken a moment to admire the new snowmen, particularly the ones outside the gate.

"Clever of those children it was, stationing some of them out there to protect them." He chuckled. They knew well that the town had no official guards, and the ones they had made were armed with long sticks and rulers and angry faces. When Arthur had regained his balance Francis pulled him back-first into his arms, his nose tickling the back of his neck. "I often wish we could live in this place, raise our child here… it's never quite the same, but it's beautiful here all year long." He whispered. Arthur squirmed playfully in his arms, escaping only after letting Francis press a kiss to his cheek. Small, shrill voiced caught both of their attentions, and upon looking down the street they saw a small group of children running to greet them, calling "Mister Bonnefoy, mister Bonnefoy!" Francis watched them approach and knelt down to eye-level with them, opening his arms to let the smallest of them run up and hug him as Arthur had only a minute ago.

"Bonjour children, how have all of you been?" he laughed. His words were met with a chattering blurb of replies, mostly positive, and all following with questions about the 'woman' who was with him. "Ah, I'm here with my beautiful wife. Everyone say hello to Alice." The children's attention turned to 'Alice', a few running to hug his legs through the green silk dress. A small, ginger-haired girl looked up at him with wide, wondering eyes, giving him a grin that showed a gap where her front teeth should be.

"Are you a princess? I want to be one too." She stood up on her toes with happy tears in her eyes. "I'm telling whoever adopts me that I met a princess. A really pretty one named Alice." Arthur chuckled, kneeling down carefully as not to strain himself.

"Well young lady, I think that you would make a wonderful princess." He smoothed back her hair, a little fluttering starting in his heart when he watched her seem to swell with joy. She hopped up and hugged him, her face smothering against the chest padding in his corset before she skipped off, giggling like she had just been promised a pony for Christmas. Arthur pulled himself back up, reaching for Francis's gloved hand and letting his eyes drift around all of the children. "Oh, they're all just the cutest little things…" his gaze finally found its way down to the bump in his belly. He hoped that their child was at least half as sweet as any of these children were, although if what Francis had told him about the town was true hopefully not an orphan. He glanced up, the large building at the end of the road capturing his gaze. "Francis, what is that place? The big one at the end of the street, with the paint outside, it is a school or…?" he frowned thoughtfully. Francis just laughed and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Only time will tell…" he murmured, watching a few children run to then and hug Arthur and himself. He leaned down and ruffled their hair before watching them run off. Once they were gone he straightened up again. "The one at the end of the street? Well, that's the orphanage." He whispered. "All the travelers mistake it for a school as well. Most of the children here are from servants in other kingdoms who didn't have enough time to clean and watch over their child. But it used to be a school until so many children came here that it became an orphanage." He chuckled, his cerulean eyes meeting Arthur's lime ones for a few seconds before a smirk spread across his lips.

"You know, they have a cute little teashop just up there on the corner. Let's go see it, oui?" He pressed his lips to Arthur's in not-quite-a kiss as he watched his confused expression turn to one of excitement.

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Arthur looked around, starting for the corner lot with a teacup-shaped sign on it. Francis laughed, nearly having to run to keep up with him. When he did manage to get ahead of his lover he stopped him, pulling the door open like a 'gentleman' for him and earning a giggle from the other. It wasn't like any teahouse Arthur had heard about. There were a dozen short, colorful tables throughout the room and a stage at the far side of the room. A little play seemed to be going on, but the actors looked more like they were goofing around than actually performing. They were laughing with every line, and the audience laughed with them. Most of the tables were full except for- what looked like in the dim light- the green one, at which the couple took their seats. Two cups of tea were set in front of them. Francis took a little spoon and scooped some sugar into his cup, stirring it as he watched Arthur sip his.

"So, mon amour, what do you think of this little place?" he asked, drawing the other's attention away from his teacup. Arthur thought a moment, his eyes skimming the crowd. Most wore the colors of their kingdom, be it red, blue, gray, gold, indigo, or rose, sitting at the corresponding table or with friends at another.

"Well… I'm wondering how all of this is possible." His voice was hushed as not to disturb anyone. "I mean, some of these people are from lands I've only heard of in stories, and some not even that. Never have I seen so many conflicting peoples gathered peacefully in one place… it's like an impossible thing come to life, so what is it that makes it possible?" His eyes rested on his spouse. Francis, who had taken only a small sip of his own tea before it had burned him, was also looking at Arthur. A knowing little smile overtook his lips.

"Ah..." He said, the throbbing heat in his throat making it difficult to talk at first. "Actually this used to be a horse farm." He said in a gentle tone, his eyes flashing. "A man named Felix owned it. He was unusual...saying he wanted to turn this area into a village of ponies, pink, and chess. But his dream came true after he was made hostage because somehow the head queen decided to own this land and make something out of it. They started by reading the man's journals and breeding his horses. Eventually all of the kingdoms came together to bring supplies, medicine, wood, you name it, for construction, and thus, Wayfall was born." Francis was glad he could say that clearly, even though mostly the burning of his tongue was holding back his accent. "They considered making this into a kingdom, but almost all the colors were taken already...even pink." He sighed lightly, looking down. "Mon amis got to meet Felix. He was such a nice man..." He reminisced, giving a small, sad sigh. "But that's all, really. There are so many stores here for children though. I had no idea this would become an orphan village…" He stared down into his cup, watching the little tendrils of steam swirl up as Arthur processed what he'd just heard. Arthur's gaze slowly drifted to the window.

"I'm sure that Felix would have been very proud of the way things have turned out here…" he mumbled, although he already had ideas in his head of why so many kingdoms would contribute; Each did it because someone else was doing it, and nobody wanted to be outdone by anyone else so they all just gave as much as they could to seem generous, and each kingdom more generous than its neighbor. It didn't seem so unreasonable a though really, he knew that if his own parents had the power they would likely have done the same. A little grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, but faded when he saw… something. In the window, it had looked almost like a face, eyes fixed on his table, before it disappeared in a flash of cerulean. He blinked, staring at the spot even after it had gone. Surely it had just been a child or something? Yes, that had to be it. Now that he thought about it, there weren't any snowmen outside of this building, were there? That was it, it was a child, peeking in at "mister Bonnefoy" and his wife before being tugged back. With that thought planted safely in his head he sighed blissfully, his gaze still fixed absently on the lowest row of snowy windowpanes. It didn't take Francis more than a minute or so to realize that his beloved wasn't watching the show, and following his gaze he found himself staring at the exact same blurry glass pane.

"You know, Arthur…" he started, taking the other's straying eyes as a sign of disinterest. "There are quite a few children's shops around town and… well, the nursery is looking a little bare." This caught the younger prince's attention.

"Might I be able to help fill it up?" he asked, grinning eagerly. "I've been meaning to check on it but… well, I always forget where it is, and by the time I remember I've always occupied myself with something else." Arthur usually only got to leave his own room when he needed something, and even then it wasn't often that he got to do so alone. The castle's guards and servants had apparently been instructed not to leave him 'unattended', and there was really only one place where he did get to go on his own; the magician's tower. He could always make some medical excuse and then spend hours and hours there, talking with the magician or even just taking his book up there and reading where it was quieter. Arthur took a sip of his tea and ended up finishing it in one gulp. As nice as the place was, it was a bit crowded and stuffy for his liking, and he didn't understand the play at all. He'd much rather be out looking at the shops. "Can we go soon? Or rather right now?" he asked. Francis nodded, taking his beloved's hand.

"Oui, we can." They stood together, both happy to get out of the little place. Francis was a bit glad that the room would remain a surprise a little longer. Its walls and floor had been painted blue and green like sky and grass. The little dresser that had been there before still remained, painted the same white as the crib Francis had built. They both looked like clouds against the blue 'sky'. "I'll be happy to show you what it looks like when we get home." He squeezed Arthur's hand, wishing he had his gloves as the cold air reached them again. Wordlessly Francis gestured for Arthur to pick a shop, and once the chipped pastel paint of one caught his attention they both ran to it. It seemed as if the snow was really picking up. Francis had never been inside the store but always had his eye on it, wondering what wonders the seemingly archaic place could hold. As it turned out, most of the things inside could be sorted into three categories; wooden toys, stuffed dolls, and books. Many of them looked quite old; The edges of the little carved carriages and horses and ducks on strings were soft and free of paint, some completely bare of color. The stuffed animals were a bit faded as well, although everything was free of dust so they just looked as if they were supposed to be that way. While they hardly looked like toys befitting a young prince or princess Arthur found them all just charming. Many of the books he hadn't even heard of. Being the only ones there- and by the looks of it, the only ones who had been there in ages- they caught the attention of the elderly woman behind the counter. Arthur sent her a little smile and Francis, who was looking at stuffed animals, didn't notice her at first at all until she spoke.

"Buying Christmas gifts?" she asked. Francis glanced up.

"Non, we're actually expecting." He replied, walking to the counter with a stuffed cyan rabbit in his hands. The woman nodded.

"Ah, congratulations young man. A bit young for that though, aren't you?" The two laughed and Francis went back to looking at toys, leaving the rabbit on the counter. The woman's attention shifted to Arthur and approached him. "Well, you certainly must be the mother. When are you due, my dear?" she asked. Arthur jumped, glanced at her, and cleared his throat.

"A-ah, I would think a few months…" he mumbled, his face turning light pink. He really couldn't talk about it much without being embarrassed. The idea of a tiny new life living inside of him was still a foreign though to him, even with the slight swelling in his belly and the servants asking him about it end even touching it if he allowed them. Luckily the woman picked up on this and let him be, going back to the counter before he started blushing madly. He picked up a book and hid his face in it. When he was sure she was gone he set the book down. He almost walked away from it before he caught sight of the cover; it was a green, leather-bound book with a picture of a young man on the cover. It beautiful white letters across the top were scrolled the words "The White Snake". Arthur glanced through the first few pages, a little smile slipping across his lips. He took the book to his husband and showed it to him.

"Can I get this for Peter? I haven't gotten him a present yet…" he whispered. Francis stared at the book for a moment.

"Oui, I suppose. It would be unfitting for you not to bring him anything on such an occasion as Christmas." He chuckled, taking both the rabbit and the book to the counter. The woman, having been listening to them, wrapped each object in separately- the book in colored foil and the winged rabbit in a little box… and then colored foil. Neither princes really looked at each other's item, both watching as the woman wrapped what they had picked. Arthur felt that if he were much younger he would have wanted to see some of those things be for him for Christmas. Even such a thing as the small, slightly beat-up bunny Francis had chosen would have been welcome to him in the castle's dungeons. He glanced around, his gaze grazing every object in the shop. He couldn't wait to get home and see the room Francis had prepared. The toy store made him wish he could remember having a room like that when he was younger.

Within a few minutes they were able to leave the shop, taking their time up the now empty streets of the little village. A bit of a snowstorm was starting, and all of the children had gone back inside of the orphanage. Arthur was envisioning Peter's sweet face when he received the his book along with whatever Francis had gotten him. This Christmas would be wonderful, he was sure of it; it would be his first proper Christmas in a while, and possibly Peter's first ever, and he would be spending it with his family. He hadn't even known it was Christmas until a while later the previous year, when spring came and talk of summer was in the air, and he had been completely alone. He sighed, letting his head fall against Francis's shoulder. He wished they had a scarf to share or something to keep the cold out. Empty carriages sat out along the streets, most in front of the tea house. He could only assume that it was some sort of haven away from the storm, but Francis passed it and Arthur followed. After all, he had mentioned some sort of work at the orphanage earlier. Arthur gave a little sigh, his warm breath making a puff of steam. Thinking about the lonely Christmases of years past brought on a sour mood. Eventually his thoughts drifted to just a few says ago, possibly the previous week, the last time they had spent this much time together. They'd been arguing over something, Arthur had been in another such mood and Francis had said something that he just couldn't stand… He seemed to remember drinking a little, just a little, either before or after to ease the pain of his absence. He gave another attention-seeking sigh. A few moments of walking passed before either prince looked at the other. Francis noticed how quiet the other was being, and how he looked almost upset about something. He had almost completely forgotten their little squabble, deeming it unimportant and something worth being forgotten. His hand crawled across the other's back, resting on his hip and pulling him in a little closer. Arthur seemed… on-edge, uncomfortable, and even more so with Francis's hand in place. He hesitated, his arm stiffening and retracting to his side.

"Arthur…" he started quietly. Said prince showed that he was listening by straightening up a little. "Do you… do you really love me?" Arthur blinked, his head snapping up.

"Of course I do." He replied without a moment's consideration. After all, it wasn't as if he could really say no, was it? He reached for the Red prince's hand and gave it a little squeeze, putting on a smile. "A-after all, if I didn't… w-well, I probably wouldn't have wanted to come with you today, would I?" he laughed a little, glancing around frantically for something to change the subject. Said change came in the form of the snowmen lining the streets the closer they got to the orphanage. Some acted out little scenes, all quite interesting; dancing, sparring, a little tea party, and what appeared to be a few smaller ones fighting a snow dragon. "Goodness, who taught these children to build like this…?" he muttered. He released Francis's hand to get a better look at the dragon. Icicle teeth were stuck in its mouth, presumably pulled from rooftops, and it had a long, scraggly stick poking out of the back of its throat that Arthur could only assume was supposed to be like fire. "It really is fantastic…" Francis nodded, moving to his side again. He was glad to hear that Arthur felt the way he did. He leaned in and pecked a kiss to his beloved prince's cheek before placing one hand on his belly bump and intertwining their fingers on the other. Arthur glanced at him cautiously but Francis just chuckled.

"They are quite creative, non?" he commented, leading Arthur towards the building again. "I think it has to do with all of the fairy tales they're read… Perhaps they'll hear one today." He glanced up. The 'day' in today was beginning to fade, turning into the evening. They must have spent more time in the tea shop than they had thought. Where on earth had the time gone? He glanced behind him. He could barely see anything. There really must have been some sort of storm setting in, because he could only barely see down the street. Snow blew around them, not unlike a very weak blizzard. He could see the snowmen across the street, the doors to about two or three stores, a flash of blue—and then it was gone, replaced with a splattering of red. Francis's grip on Arthur slackened. The former Green prince turned to him in time to see him fall to his knees, a small pocket-sized blade laying in the snow beside him. He gasped, kneeling down to look over him.

"Francis, A-are you alright?" he asked. Francis coughed weakly but managed a nod.

"S-someone… or something attacked me!" he growled, his teeth gritted together in pain. The weapon hadn't stuck in his body. Whoever the alleged almost-assassin was they obviously weren't a professional. They barely grazed the blond's cheek, barely enough to cause a serious injury but plenty to send Arthur into a panic. Francis glanced around, his eye catching on a gleam of red in the snow- the weapon- but there wasn't a trace of the blue flash in sight.

"Are you alright?" he knelt down, pulling a handkerchief out of his shirtfront and dabbing away the blood. "Th-this morning you told me you thought someone was after you, b-but I wasn't sure I believed you… o-oh dear, you're bleeding quite badly. I-is there a doctor or something that I can take you to?" he looked around frantically. The flash of blue… no, that was impossible. It must have been his imagination. That had to be it. There was no way that either of the Blue princes would come out, in broad daylight… well, not so much daylight now.

"Merci…" he muttered. "And a doctor… y-yes, we should find one… p-perhaps we should start back home, a-and get to the tower?" Arthur frowned.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's much too far, and in this weather and with that injury…" he trailed off, shaking his head. It wasn't as if he was afraid of the horse or anything, he just… was concerned, about the weather. And about Francis. "I-if you'd like though, I can go finish up your work at the orphanage a-and you can go." He added hopefully. Francis shook his head.

"Non, I can not leave you alone if such things as this are happening… Th-the orphanage does have a nurse though, a-and I'm sure she'd be willing to tend to me i-if you'd like to read." He gave the smaller prince a smile and a peck on the cheek, which turned into one on the lips when Arthur turned his head but it's not as if either party was complaining. Francis managed to sneak a hand around Arthur's waist during this, leading him through the gate and up the steps to the orphanage. The children had long since come inside, most either asleep or snuggled up in little groups, laying under blankets with little pillows and stuffed animals. Neither prince could help smiling at the sight. A few of them looked up and nudged the others around them when they saw the scar forming on Francis's face. Francis gave them a little wave and started to walk away but stopped, giving his 'wife' a little hug and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"You're warm…" he whispered, his lips grazing Arthur's jaw and sending shivers up the Green prince's spine as he pulled away. Arthur was left standing there for a few seconds before he stepped down into the mass of children, a few running up to him holding storybooks. He chuckled, looking over each one. They each vied for his attention, their voices hushed only slightly in hopes of not waking the other children although not quite succeeding. Arthur shushed them and chuckled.

"Now then, how about I choose a book?" he smiled. The children, although disappointed, accepted this. Arthur waded through the mass of small children- although some of them were nearly his own age- to a tall bookshelf. A few of the books were out of reach, some with good reason, but one in particular caught his eye; "The White Snake"

"Oh, I've seen this one before!" he lifted it off of the shelf and showed it around to the children. "I believe that you'll all enjoy it. Come on, sit down and I'll read it…" he looked around before noticing an unoccupied chair in the center of where the children sat, presumably there for the reader. He took a seat there and opened the book to the first page. The story went on about a young man who worked for a wise king, although he discovered the root of the king's knowledge was in consuming a different white snake each day. Out of curiosity the boy tried one himself and found that it gave him the power to talk to animals. Various misadventures ensued, each more enthralling than the one before it, and all longer and longer as they went. About halfway through the book Arthur happened to glance up and notice that most of the children had fallen asleep. "So soon…?" he frowned, his gaze drifting around the mass of children until it reached a clock; nine-thirty. He blinked. There was no way he had been reading that long. What had become of Francis, had he left? Or had he just gone somewhere without him? Arthur shut the book and set it aside, once again navigating through the maze of little arms and legs and torsos with some difficulty to the door and pushing it open. The small storm that had started earlier had gotten worse, making it nearly impossible to see even to the gate. Arthur dashed out, following the street lamps. They were few and far apart, one every few shops, and with the snow piling up to his knees he found himself getting slower and slower and colder and colder and eventually he was lost. How was it even possible to become lost in such a small town? He shuddered, calling out for his husband. His shouts were lost to the wind. He continued to trudge through the snow, going street lamp to street lamp to street lamp until he noticed one in particular, the one by the town's second gate, was a flash of gold. Upon closer examination he found that it was golden hair. He ran to it, stopping only a few feet away.

"F-Francis?" he called, attempting to make his voice a little higher to sound feminine, just in case. The person who owned the mop of blonde hair turned. Their cerulean eyes looked him over hungrily, running along his cloakless figure until it reached his shocked face. A little smirk overtook the wearer's expression as he and Arthur took small steps toward each other, the green prince's mouth hanging agape. It wasn't possible. He had hoped that it wouldn't be him, but now that he was actually seeing him here, after so many months of being separate, it really did feel impossible.

"A…Alfred?"

...

Oooh, I bet you all thought I wasn't going to continue thiiiiis well you were WRONG~ I am totally back on this story! Although reviews are nice, kinda makes me feel like you're reading this and I'm not taking a metaphorical piss in the wind...