Francis had ended up doing a little bit of exploring after having his face bandaged. As often as he visited the little town of Wayfall he barely entered the orphanage itself. He found some of the small children and the less fortunate ones who were ill and couldn't play in the snow, and those who simply didn't know he was there, and he, like Arthur, barely noticed the passage of time. It wasn't long after Arthur had left, however, when he returned to the orphanage entrance. Children lay around on the floor, some sharing blankets and others just curled up to one another. Several even sat by the chair, looking through the book and whispering among themselves. As he let his gaze drift around them a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it faded when he found that Arthur was gone. The children that were still awake approached him for good-night hugs and he almost pushed them away.
"Wh-where's Ar—Alice?" he whispered, kneeling down.
"Miss Alice?" one of the children repeated. A small girl with a curly red mop of hair, now taken out of their braids. "She left a little while ago." The children took their hugs from a shocked, gaping Francis and returned to the book.
Left? Where would he have gone? He glanced at the door. Arthur's cloak was still there, as well as the bags with the things they had gotten. He frowned and grabbed them both before running outside. A blinding rage of snow and wind attacked him the moment he stepped out, but he could just barely make out the lights of the street lamps he knew so well. Perhaps the gate? He trudged through the snow, practically running with the cloak stuffed into the bag and the bag thrown over his arm. He called out for 'Alice', just in case there were any onlookers of people around to hear.
…
Alfred took longer, more confident snow-crushing steps toward Arthur, a smile warm enough to melt the storm itself painted across his lips.
"Alice…" he chuckled. Arthur just stared, gaped, his eyes fixed on his once-best friend as he was pulled into his arms. He vaguely noticed that his name was being called from far away, somewhere in the storm, but he didn't respond. Alfred looked Arthur over, his eyes traveling down the length of his body and stopping abruptly when he reached his belly. His expression softened. "Alice, this… th-this isn't your fault. I'm so sorry…" he whispered. The smaller prince's eyes only had half a second to dart downward before he was embraced again. Just being there in Alfred's arms made him feel younger, safer, calmer, and… slightly lightheaded. He tried to pull himself away only to discover that he was starting to pass out, stumbling back into Alfred's arms in time for Francis to catch up to them. The Red and Blue prince's eyes met, resulting in scowls from both sides.
"What are you doing with him?" Francis growled, his eyes darting to Arthur every few seconds. "Is he dead? Did you kill him?" Alfred scoffed.
"She is just fine, you idiot, just unconscious." He spat back, although one hand drifted up Arthur's chest to where his chest rose and fell with breath. A grin tugged at his lips for no more than a few seconds before he glared back up at Francis. "But what would you care? With the way you've treated her, you monster, you've done this to her… I heard it all. The way she cried in the morning when she found herself there at your side, sobbing through the night, praying that nothing would happen, that she'd be saved from that living hell of a life you've given her… along with this revolting child of yours."
"The way I've treated her?" he laughed, not just because of Alfred's stupid comment but because he actually believed Arthur to be female. Perhaps they weren't as close as Arthur seemed to think? "I don't even want to know why you were listening, the thought of it alone frankly sickens me…" He rolled his eyes, but a pang of guilt hit him when he spoke of 'Alice' crying after their… lovemaking. "I-I couldn't control myself…" he muttered, his gaze drifting up to his beloved prince's belly. "A-and it's not revolting. It's our child, our miracle. It makes us happy, and we love it." He stepped forward. "And I know that I may not be the best person ever, especially not to her, but I love her, more than anything else in the world. Not something I'd expect a child like you to understand…" Cerulean eyes met for several long moments before Alfred scowled, shaking his head.
"You must really not know anything about her if that's what you think. She'd never let something like this happen to herself, especially not with a pig like you… not unless you forced her into it." He cradled Arthur in his arms and pressed their lips together in not-quite-a-kiss. "We've been together practically all of our lives, since we were small children. I was promised that someday when we were older we could be married, but then you had to come along and ruin everything. You had to start that war, and tear her away from me… and I'm never going to let you have a chance like that again." He snarled, swinging Arthur over his shoulder and taking off towards the gate. Francis gasped and ran after him.
"Y-you bastard, be careful, sh-she's with child! How can you say you love her wh-when you keep her in such a condition?" he shouted. "Sh-she's passed out and you haven't done a thing to wake her up, a-and you aren't even k-keeping her warm!" The last of his words were lost to the wind. He hated having to replace all of the 'he's and 'his's with 'she's and 'her's, but he was afraid of what Alfred would do when he found out. Besides, he couldn't afford to correct himself, being nearly out of breath and Alfred already getting ahead of him.
Arthur gave a soft groan, drawing the Blue prince's attention for a second. He stopped, waited for movement, and kept running.
"Don't worry Alice, you'll be safe soon…" he whispered, grinning a bit as he saw his carriage coming into view. He hopped up threw the door open, carefully laying Arthur out on the first inside seat. He took one of 'her' hands into his own and pressed his lips to it. "Alice, my dear, my love, I promise that once we're away from that Red cretin I can give you the life you deserve, with your family and me and you to rule by my side…" He let a grin appear, feeling Arthur's fingers twitch. His eyes slowly fluttered open, drifting around the tiny carriage and landing on Alfred. It took him a moment to remember where he was or what he was doing there, but when he did he sat up so suddenly that were he any taller he would have smacked his head on the carriage roof. The Blue prince just laughed and took his hand, pecking a kiss to it. "Don't worry dear, we'll be going back home now… our home." He hopped out of the carriage and into the driver's seat, shutting the door softly behind him. Arthur stared at the place he had been until the carriage jolted him from his seat, scrambling to get back up. He didn't want this. Sure, he had his doubts about Francis, but he hadn't wanted to get kidnapped. He braced his arms against the walls to steady himself as he attempted to stand, making his way to the door. The ground rushed past them, snow whipping against his face as he poked out his head. He looked behind them; there was no sign of Francis, or of the little village, or of anything but the snow flying away. He gulped, his eyes darting downward. There was a small step attached to the base of the door, presumably to help one get into the carriage but barely big enough for a single foot. He poked at it with the base of his slipper and swore he felt it creak. Alfred didn't seem to notice so he shifted all of his weight onto the one foot. This was what caught the Blue Prince's attention. He turned just in time to see Arthur placing his second foot on the tiny step and closing the carriage door behind him. A look of horror crossed his face.
"Alice, what are you doing?" he grabbed Arthur's arm. Arthur shot a glare at him and instinctively pulled himself away. The mere force of his action was enough to shift his balance, sending him tumbling off of the step and into the deep snow. Alfred gasped, yanking on the reins with all his might, his eyes still fixed on the little green speck in the snow of Arthur's dress as it disappeared into the frigid cold night.
…
Francis trudged on after them, shivering from the cold that easily blew past his coat. It only worsened as he tripped and collapsed into the snow. He had nearly lost hope in catching up to Arthur. Francis, while his body didn't show it, was in a constant delicate medical state, easily catching cold or getting injured and even more easily getting tired. He coughed slightly pinkish saliva onto the snow below him before letting his head fall. That was it, he'd lost them. Arthur was gone. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He could feel his heart starting to crumble inside of his chest, a horrible, sharp aching feeling rising with it.
"A-Arthur…" he sobbed, throwing his arms out into the snow beside himself. There was a large lump of snow beside him, and upon brushing some of it away he found it to be a body. "H-how awful, someone j-just dumped them aside…" he mumbled. He didn't bother looking at the face, his hand resting somewhere around their middle and wandering absently. They were round, he could tell that much, but not in the sense that they were fat, it was… firm. His brow furrowed as he felt out the rest of the figure; thin arms, skin practically clinging to bones save for the chest where it sagged slightly… he blinked, pulling himself up over the figure. Butter-blonde hair that hung over their face, a pea-green dress with lace covering the skirts, and a beautiful little pair of green slippers clinging to their dainty feet. "Arthur?" he whispered. A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips but faded quickly when his beloved gave not a single sign of movement or response. "Cher…?" he watched the lifeless form of his 'wife' for a few seconds, then leaned in and pressed their lips together, hot tears running over their cheeks. "J-je suis… d-desole…" he let himself fall next to Arthur again, wrapping his arms around him. "D-desole, desole…" he didn't bother to stifle his sobs, even when the soft crunching of snow under boots reached his ears. He didn't react to being shoved away from Arthur's body other than looking at the person who had done such to find that- not surprisingly- it was Alfred. The Blue prince was kneeling over Arthur not unlike Francis had, only with his hands on her shoulders shaking her lightly.
"A-Alice… Alice, wake up…" he cried, waiting a few moments before pulling him into a sitting position. He tore Arthur's cloak from Francis's arms and wrapped it around his unmoving body before scooping him up. His gaze fell to Francis. "Sh-she has a much lower chance of surviving this that you do… I-I'm taking her first, th-then I'll get you. St-stay here." He growled, starting off in the direction he'd come. Francis groaned, attempting to sit up but only falling again. This was even worse than before. He'd had Arthur in his arms, he could have said goodbye if he had gotten the chance, and he had let Alfred take her away again, because he knew damn well that the Blue prince wouldn't come back for him. It was like his worst nightmares had combined with what he assumed to be Arthur's wildest fantasies. The moment was set on reply in his mind until he let his eyes flash open, feeling himself being lifted up by what at first he thought was the hand of death. It turned out to be the Blue prince, but whether this was a curse or a blessing remained to be seen. Francis coughed more pinkish liquid into his hand and looked up at him.
"B-Blue prince…" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "D-do not take my wife from me… i-if you must have her, l-let me at least join you in your castle. M-make me a servant, slave, I-I don't care…" he coughed again. Alfred glanced down at him but gave no response.
"Sh-she jumped off of th-the side of th-the carriage to get back to you…" he started, keeping his eyes off of Francis as he tossed him unceremoniously onto the carriage seat opposite Arthur's. "S-so I can only assume it would go to waste to let you d-die here… I-I'm sparing you just this once m-mind you, never again… Y-you keep her safe in here. I-if she dies, e-either now or with th-that damned child of yours, I swear it will be your head." He growled, starting to shut the door but stopping. "Y-your things are under the seats, a-as well as a g-gas lamp. K-keep yourselves warm, b-but if you lay so much as a finger on her i-it will be your blood that warms her." He nearly slammed the door before remembering 'Alice', shutting it softly and returning to his seat. He urged the horses to run as fast as they could.
When Francis was sure that Alfred was preoccupied with his horses he cautiously pressed the back of his hand to Arthur's forehead, frowning.
"Ice cold…" he mumbled, tugging up the cloak like a blanket. Arthur was, at least, moving a little; shivering violently counted as moment. It was better than the stillness that came with death. He sighed, settling the gas lamp onto a small hook on the carriage ceiling. This wasn't at all what their Christmas visit was supposed to be like. It was supposed to be fun and happy. He and Arthur weren't supposed to leave for another week, and they would be bringing presents and, if all went well, Francis would be attempting to befriend Arthur's family. Everyone would receive a gift, something Francis had chosen himself and had seen to that it would be perfect. He placed his hands against the glass of the lantern for a few seconds until they burned and holding them to Arthur's cheeks. Whatever it took to warm him up. His gaze darted to the small door for half a second before he leaned in, pecked a stealth-kiss to Arthur's forehead, and sat back up to repeat the hand-to-lantern process.
…
Alfred urged the horses on as the castle's light began to dance across his face. He needed to get Alice inside and taken care of, he needed to find somewhere to put Francis-preferably a different room than the one Alice had… he had to tell Allistor of his little slip-up. It went without saying that Allistor hated Francis, and Alfred didn't blame him; they had spent their past five months planning the man's death. They'd even joked about it being their Christmas present to each other as well as their kingdoms- but mostly each other. As he approached the gate a set of guards approached them to check the carriage, but seeing that it was only that of the Blue prince they let him pass. A thudding sound snapped Alfred from his aimless thoughts and he glanced to his side, nearly crying out in surprise when he saw the fire-haired Kirkland boy seated next to him.
"Wh-what the heck, where did you come from?" he hissed, glancing behind him. Allistor shrugged, gesturing back to the gate.
"Thought I'd just, y'know, drop in…" he mumbled, lighting a cigar. Alfred was about to question him when he remembered- and saw- the little border of stone around the gate, as well as a matchbox resting on the edge of the keystone. He rolled his eyes. "You got him today, didn't you? I'd like to see the body if you don't mind…" Alfred slowly sat back in his seat, giving the other an awkward little grin.
"Well, um… about that… uh, it can be discussed later. Y-your sister is in need of medical attention." Allistor raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong with hi—her?" he asked, glancing back at the carriage door. He started to climb down from the seat, pausing only when Alfred grabbed his sleeve to push his hand away. "It's my br—sister, and if anyone's capable of checking on her condition it would be me." He tugged the door open and stared in, his eyes instantly meeting with those of the startled Francis. He pulled his hands away from Arthur and held them by his head as if to say 'I didn't touch her, don't kill me.' Allistor rolled his eyes and popped his head out of the carriage, glaring at Alfred.
"I thought that you were going to get rid of him…" he growled. Alfred sighed and scratched the back of his head.
"I was, but… I had to improvise, okay? Things just kind of happened, sh-she passed out in my arms and then he showed up and I didn't have time…" he probably said more but Allistor didn't care, nor did he listen. He'd likely get an explanation later anyway. Besides, his primary concern was his little brother. He placed a hand on him and started to check for any sign of life or injury; neck, cheeks, head, then finally his chest. He spared Francis a glance to see if he was opposed to it. The Red prince had his eyes fixed on his 'wife', debating with himself over whether or not it would be alright to take his hand or if Allistor would get mad.
"I feel a heartbeat." He said finally, drawing the blond's attention. "She's alive, but only barely. She needs medical attention." His frown started to fade as he let his hand wander down in search of injury. He felt strangely round in the belly, he could tell that much, but not in the sense that he had gotten fatter, his belly was… firm, like a perfect little sphere poking out of the once caved-in looking stomach. Allistor stared, his mouth hanging open in shock for a long few seconds before his eyes drifted back to Francis. It was if the fire in his hair had gone straight to his eyes as he gave Francis a glare so scalding hot that it was a wonder the entire carriage didn't burst into flames. Before the Red prince had time to react he was being grabbed by his shirt collar and shoved up against the wall.
"What the hell did you do to my little brother?" he growled. "There's no use denying it now, you obviously know what he is if you've done that to him." Francis opened his mouth to choke out a reply but the closest thing that came forth was more bloody saliva and a strangled cough.
"S-si vous plait, th-that… th-that's our child…" he whispered. "I-it is mine a-as well as his…" his breathing was shaky and ragged, at least when he got slight snatches of air in the half-seconds that Allistor's grip loosened. It had taken a great weight of fear off of his heart when he heard that his beloved Arthur would be alright, but he now feared that he wouldn't live to see it. Allistor let his grip slacken enough for the man to breath which helped a little, but he still held tightly to Francis's shirt collar.
"I swear to god, if he dies having that god damned child of yours…"
"H-he won't…" Francis coughed again, blinking a few times, and looking over Allistor's shoulder. "H-he's strong, s-so very strong… a-and I love them both t-too much to let either of th-them go—"
"But if he does." Allistor dropped him onto the seat with a thump, turning back around to face his brother. "Words alone can not describe the sorts of living hells Alfred and I can put you through in this fortress of a castle, and I assure you if you knew you would wish you had come here in Arthur's place." He placed two fingers on Arthur's ribcage and pressed down hard enough to earn a small groan. His frown faltered. "Most certainly alive… but he needs a doctor. It can't be safe to move him yet, I'll have to go get a doctor for him and the… little one." he said the last words in a tone that was difficult to tell whether he was embarrassed or disgusted to say it.
"I… I-I may also be in need of a doctor…" Francis mumbled sheepishly. "I-I believe I was hit by something, possibly a horse or a cart wh-when I… w-well, when I was running after him." He coughed, attempting to roll onto his back in the seat. Allistor nodded absently and went on to check Arthur's legs and feet- finding nothing- and looking back up at his belly. He hesitated before raising his hand to it, delicately cupping the little bump and giving a small sigh. "I don't know much about birthing or raising children, but I do want this little one to survive. Not for you Red prince, for Arthur." He sighed. They were silent a while before the carriage came to a stop. A few little noises came from outside before Alfred's head appeared in the door. He looked near tears.
"Tell me she's going to be alright." He said quickly.
"She's alive." Allistor gently shoved his head back out, enough for him to see but not enough to see much. "Injured, obviously, but definitely alive. Go get her a doctor, will you?" he snapped his fingers, but Alfred was already going before the sound reached his ears. He watched him run away before turning back to Francis. Said young man had two fingers placed delicately to Arthur's cheek in a futile attempt to warm him without touching in a way that could be considered inappropriate.
"I… I don't want them to die…" he whispered, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Allistor's expression softened.
"Neither can I." He knelt by his brother again, brushing some hair away from his snow-soaked eyelashes. "If I lose him then I'll only have little Peter left, and… w-well, not to alarm you, but he's gotten sick. The doctor says that he doesn't look like there's much he can do to help, th-that we just have to watch him…" Francis, who was just beginning to control his tears, was now letting them flow freely.
"He's… sick?" he repeated, his eyes wide. "N-non, please tell me that Peter is alright… h-he'd be so excited to hear that Arthur is here." He'd planned to better his relationship with the boy and- hopefully- the family during their visit and show them that he wasn't the monstrous pig that Alfred surely made him out to be. No doubt the Blue prince had been planting images in their minds of things he had 'seen' Francis doing to Arthur- if nothing else than certainly the first night. He felt ashamed now thinking about it.
"He only wanted me to tell you because he likes you…" Allistor grumbled, his eyes drifting away slowly but snapping back to him. "And he only likes you because you're married to our brother." He stood, starting to leave the carriage and offering his hand to Francis. "Come on. You'd best leave her here with the doctor lest they think you her murderer." The blond nodded but didn't take his hand. He was fully able to climb out of a carriage on his own without his assistance, although walking could be another matter.
"Alright…" he mumbled, scooping Peter's gifts out from under the seat. Should he or Arthur not make it he wanted to know that these would get to him. "I-is there anything I have to do when I enter? I'm not familiar with the way things are done here, I've never been here before…" Allistor gave him an odd look and led him inside.
"If there is, then I don't know of it. I don't exactly like to think of myself as 'living' here, just staying until we find somewhere else…" he frowned, knowing that this was only sort of true. "Peter seemed excited when I told him that you two were visiting… do you want to know what he said to me this morning?" he chuckled, nudging Francis with his elbow. "H-he said that he was excited to see you two… h-he called you his uncle, 'Uncle Francis'…" a sneaky grin tugged at their lips, Francis's more clearly then Allistor's. "Just wait until he hears that he'll be an uncle himself." He glanced out the door and saw Alfred returning to the carriage with a stout little man in a long coat. Through the wind snatches of tearful speech could be heard, little things like "Alice" and "all my fault" and "should've held on". He rolled his eyes and quickened his pace. He wanted to get to Peter as soon as possible. When they reached the door to his room he stopped them suddenly, giving Francis a serious look.
"Francis." He started. "Keep your voice down. The doctors say that too much excitement can overwhelm him, and we wouldn't want any nosy princes to hear us." He glanced back again. Francis nodded to show he understood before Allistor pulled the door open a crack, sticking his head in first.
"Peter, are you awake? I've brought you a visitor… a real one, not another doctor." He whispered, stepping in and motioning for Francis to follow. The inside of the room felt like he had stepped into a completely different building. They had been paneled with wood and then paint in light blue, although far from white, presumably a calming color. Various toys were scattered around the floor, ranging from dollhouses to toy soldiers to stuffed dolls to books to things Francis had never even seen before. Long, billowing curtains hung from a single elongated window box that would, in the morning, give Peter enough light to wake up with, and in the evening make it dark earlier. A small, sailboat-shaped bed sat in the middle of the room, a lump resting under the covers. Upon noticing that Francis was just staring at the lump like he would if an angel had just popped up from it Allistor gave him a gentle shove towards the besides. Francis glanced at him, then stepped forward and knelt down. A little table sat next to his bed, covered with what at a glance could be mistaken for a rigid table cloth but was really a dozen 'get well soon' cards covered with numerous pressed and dried flowers. He chuckled, giving a small sigh before starting to speak.
"Ah… b-bonjour Peter." He started quietly. "I-I'm Francis, remember me? I married your brother… W-we'll be staying until Christmas." The lump under the covers moved, twisted, and revealed a set of sea foam-colored eyes along with the corners of a smile.
"H-hello…" came a tiny, hoarse little voice, and with the single word the eyes shut again.
...
Well, I certainly hope this satisfied your UsUk fix, because honestly it won't get much better than this- although for those of you who don't know, I did post another mini story that went with this one containing Alfred... didn't call him by that name though.
I know, this chapter is very short, but I got it in by my deadline. Hopefully next week's will be longer but probably not by much because my birthday is a week from tomorrow and I'm going to be partying hard. SO HARD.