~ Alfred's POV~

Oh God... Why... Why did he do that?!

The American ran. He didn't have a destination in mind, but he knew he couldn't face anyone after that, especially the bandit he had admired as a child. Alfred finally stopped when he ran out of breath. Finding himself under an old tree on the edge of his father's property, he slumped back against the trunk, breathing deeply to calm his racing heart.

He... He Kissed me? Does he even realize... But why...

He closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands and wiping his face. Alfred had been raised simply. Far different, he assumed, from the bandit who was currently housed on the large plot of land he lived on. He had grown up with extremely religious parents, who expected him to do well, and take over his father's farm.

Why... did it feel like that? ...It felt... good...

Alfred inhaled, a deep shaky breath. " No!" He yelled, to no one in particular. " It's not God's Will!" He heard a chuckle. " God's Will? You still believe in such things, boy?" He heard a deep, manly voice off to his right. He looked in that direction to see Robert, one of Arthur's gang members. Alfred sighed softly. " What? Are you here to pick on me again? Bully me into more food, or apples for your horses?"

Robert shook his head, sitting on the roots of the tree next to where Alfred stood slumped. " I'm not here for that. I want to help. What's on yer mind, lad?"

"I think... I might actually... be in love with Arthur."

~Arthur's POV~

The Brit stepped out of the small building, closing his eyes against the sudden bright sunshine. He inhaled deeply, then sighed. It was nice to be back out in the fresh air. Arthur knew he wouldn't have lasted much longer inside that small stuffy building. He looked around, then headed in the direction of a large farmhouse, hoping maybe he could get a chance to talk to Alfred. To explain his actions.

There was a rich aroma that swept over him in a wave the second Arthur opened the door. Cinnamon, apples, and... something he couldn't quite describe. Arthur stepped into the kitchen, surprised by how neat the room was, far too used to messy inns. A woman stood by the counter, wiping her hands on a small rag. She had golden brown, almost blonde hair, held up in a bun, with a few loose ringlets framing her face. The woman looked up when she heard the footsteps created by Arthur's boots.

"Oh... Hello. You must be the man Alfred told us about." She didn't show any fear, only pure and genuine concern. " he told me you got attacked by wolves... Are you alright?" If only Arthur's mother had worried this much, maybe then his father wouldn't have beaten him blind when he was drunk. Arthur laughed slightly in disbelief. "Uhh... yeah... I'm doing rather well... despite the circumstances."

The woman smiled, nodding slightly. " I'm Alfred's mother, Elizabeth. It's nice to meet you. I'm afraid Alfred's father is working out at the Church right now, so he can't be here to finally meet you." Arthur smiled politely, bowing slightly. " I'm Arthur... Just Arthur..." Elizabeth nodded, smiling slightly. " I know. Alfred's told us quite a bit about you."

Did they know about his past, then? Arthur nodded slightly, then sat down at the small wooden table. "What all did he tell you?"