One Last Fairytale: Numb

Yao looked down at the gentle tug of small hands on the hem of his robes and smile. "What is it Kiku? I told you that you could go play with Alfred and the others today," he reminded gently, reaching down the ruffle the soft dark hair of his younger brother before turning back to the laundry he'd been folding.

Kiku merely blinked up at him with determined, childish eyes, "But . . . Aniki, I have a question," he pouted.

The older brother laughed at the look he received, putting down the laundry to scoop Kiku up into his lap instead, "All right, all right. What did you want to know?"

"Alfred said . . ." There was a slight, unsure, hesitating air about the way that Kiku paused that made Yao's stomach drop, "Alfred said . . . That we're not supposed to talk about the Old North Kingdom."

"The young prince is correct in saying that," Yao whispered, hoping in vain to end the conversation right there.

"Why?" It was the question every small child asks about things they don't comprehend, "Why can't we talk about it? We can talk about the North Kingdom, but not the . . . The Old North Kingdom. Why?"

Yao sighed and undid his long, tied back hair, letting it fall freely onto his shoulders, "Kiku, this really isn't something a three year old should hear. It's not a pretty tale."

"I want to know," Kiku whispered. "Alfred says . . . Alfred says that we can't talk about cause it makes his daddies sad. I want to know why."

"It does make the Kings sad," Yao confirmed, sitting back a bit, "I wasn't lying when I said it wasn't a pretty tale. It's the darkest part of the country's history, and it's still too fresh in King Arthur's mind for him to deal with." He sighed as Kiku tilted his head pleadingly, "Kiku, listen, what I am about to tell you can never, never, be repeated. Not to Alfred, not to the Kings, and more than anyone, not to Ivan, do you understand?"

"I won't tell."

"When I was a little child

And I was afraid

But a gentle someone always came

To drown my tears

To sweet sleep my fears

And to give a kiss goodnight.

But now I am grown

And these years have shown

The winds upon how life goes.

But it's dark and it's late

So I wonder and wait

Till the fighting draws to a close."

Francis took in a heavy breath, swirling his fingers across the top of the sudsy bath water. Turning he leaned over the side of the tub to flick some of the soap at the blond sitting on a chair a few feet away with a laugh.

Arthur rolled his eyes and wiped the stuff off of his cheek, "You're immature, you know that?"
The older man smirked, "No more so than you, cherie. And you're just jealous that you can't join me in my bath time."

"I am jealous," Arthur deadpanned, "You know what a pain it is to have to get by with just sponge baths? I want to take a nice long soak."

Francis laughed again, "Well, in all senses, I guess I should apologize, right cherie? One does not conceive a baby by themselves after all," he smirked, making an obscene motion with his fist and index finger, to which Arthur merely glared.

"Right you are, but one person alone has to suffer through the actual carrying and bearing of the child," he snorted. "And believe you me; there won't be any more 'conceiving' again for a long time."

The shocked look on Francis's face at this statement made Arthur grin, "B-but why not?" Francis gaped, "That's a horrible punishment cherie! Besides, I'm already in withdrawal as it is!"

"You can't go into withdrawal from lack of sex," Arthur muttered, "You'll live."

"Cherie . . ." Francis wined, reaching out of the bath pleadingly, "Don't be so cruel."

Arthur sighed and leaned into his touch, kissing him lightly, "We'll see. Anyways, what was that song you were singing?"

Francis's smile returned, "Oh, that? It's an old song that my mother used to sing to me when I was little. I thought we could sing it for the baby one day."

A small smile crept across Arthur's face at this idea, "That would be nice. And speaking of, have you thought of any better boy names yet?"
"I already told you, I'm dead set on Alfred," Francis said irritably, "Can't you take me seriously for once?"
"No, because I already told you that I don't like that name. It sounds more like the name of someone's butler rather than a child," Arthur muttered sourly as he stood up, "And now that I think about it, I promised to help Elizaveta with some sewing today, so have fun with your bath."

Francis stuck out his tongue, "Bleh, you are so not fun when you're pregnant."

"Remind yourself that next time you want to do it in such a weird position," Arthur smirked, closing the door behind him. He really did have somewhere to be, although he probably would have gotten bored sooner or later hanging out in the washroom anyways. Elizaveta seemed insistent upon the idea that he wear dresses now instead of normal boy's clothes as he got bigger. And then she had reminded him of the fact that she technically still had complete free reign of his wardrobe even now.

He'd agreed, but only while they were doing meaningless chores or something else. God knows he'd rue the day Francis ever caught him in a dress. So he made his way down the hall as slowly as possible when faced with such situations. Frankly, procrastination was his favorite pastime when it came to Elizaveta's evil schemes. He'd seen Roderich slipping about the castle in just such a manner on many occasions similar to this. No point in dying sooner than you had to after all.

It was the strange, and out of place thud that first told Arthur that something was wrong. The sound was far off, but he could feel the castle tremble slightly beneath is feet. His hand went to wall as a second unearthly tremor shook the stones and an audible boomed echoed through the corridors. Arthur shifted and stared back at the hall to his right leading to the far end of the castle, worry growing as a third noise shook the fortress stones.

The scream was what spurned the blond into action, his heart pounding with fear and horrible realization as Ivan's terrified wail echoed down the hall. So Arthur ran, trying his best to maintain his balance as the castle walls began to crack and the structure shivered dangerously beneath him. And he screamed too, crying out the names of people, trying to warn, begging for help.

"Francis! Roderich! Vash! The castle . . ." He stumbled and fell as the fortress creaked and groaned, his eyes falling upon a nearby window and the scene outside, "The castle is being attacked!"

He passed more windows, the image never changing. He recognized the blue and red flags of Main Hetalia, the horse-drawn catapults and battering rams. He even recognized his father's most prized knight at the head of the army, giving the order just before a volley of flaming arrows hit the walls. Arthur kept running, searching for the source of the scream from before, praying that he wasn't too late now that it could no longer be heard.

The blond had to break down the doors to the High Princess's chamber after he found that it wouldn't open willingly. It was there that he found Ivan, crouched in the far corner. The child was sobbing softly, one had to his head, blood dribbling out from between his fingers, and the other wrapped tightly around Natalia. Arthur had to push passed a mound of rubble caved in from the roof to reach them, making a comforting shushing sound as he lifted Ivan up into his arms. The boy merely sniffed, burying his face against the other's shoulder.

"Ivan," Arthur whispered, gazing around the room as he made his way to the door again, Natalia whimpering as he tucked her into the crook of his arm close to his chest, "Ivan, where is your mother?" Ivan hiccupped and pointed a shaky hand to the piles of rubble where Katyusha's bed would have been. Arthur swallowed in horror, looking away as he noticed the layer of blood seeping out from underneath the stones. He tightened his grip on both children and made his way out into the hall before running at full speed again.

He skidded out into the hall he'd come from near the bathroom and pushed open the door, "Francis!" There was no answer, and Arthur felt his heart stop as he realized that his husband was no longer there. The blond backed out of the room, skidding down the hall in a different direction as the castle rumbled and shook ominously again. They had to get out, before he went to look for Francis, he at least had to get the children out of the castle safely.

"Yao," Ivan spoke up suddenly, turning his head from where it still rested on Ivan's shoulder, "Yao, where's Yao?"

"Shhh . . ." Arthur hushed, taking a set of stairs two at a time until he reached the first floor, "Shh, he'll be okay. We need to get you out right now, that's all that matters."

"No!" Ivan started to squirm in his arms, eyes wide and his voice rising to a hysterical tone, "No! We can't leave without Yao! We can't leave without Yao!"

Arthur hissed between his teeth as he reached a large stone statue of a bear, ignoring Ivan's screams as he pressed his back against it and shoved it aside. An arrow crashed through a windowpane behind him, catching a tapestry overhead on fire. Slowly, he lowered the children into the passage that had been revealed behind the statue, "Wait here, okay? If I'm not back by the time you can count to five hundred, follow this tunnel outside. Understand, Ivan?" The flames were beginning to lick up the walls and snake along the floor now, and he gazed around for a path that would take him to Francis.

A cold laugh echoed down the hall, and Arthur turned to see a man walking through the fire towards them, and he pushed the children deeper into the passage. "Well well, if it isn't the Crown Prince who caused our kingdom nothing but hell," the sword the man was carrying rose to just above Arthur's navel and the blonde growled in rage, trying to back up into the tunnel, "You seem to be expecting, from what I've heard. Our orders are to gut you and bring the fetus back, isn't that lovely?" The sword flicked dangerously close to Arthur's stomach, and he cut his hand in a desperate attempt to block it.

The man merely laughed again, raising the weapon with every intention of carrying out his orders. At least, until his blade was suddenly blocked by another.

"Oh cherie, that was cutting it a tad too close," Francis hissed as he tossed the soldier's blade aside in one swift movement. He turned towards his lover, a small smile on his face, "Now, get those kids down the tunnel, I'll be right behind you."

Arthur nodded, backing up into the passage as he heard the sound of more soldiers approaching. But he didn't go more than a few steps, watching horrified as the first man retrieved his sword, motioning towards his companions. Francis parried off the first few blows with ease, laughing as he did so. Arthur had often admired his husband's skill with the blade, but now, it was not out of admiration that he watched: it was absolute fear. Francis was completely surrounded.

The younger blond had no time to warn him, his vision obscured by the smoke and fire as another team of soldiers came down the other end of the hall. Blood hit the prince's face and chest as a sword ripped through Francis's stomach from behind, and he screamed.

The older man gasped in surprise, coughing up a mouthful of blood as the blade was withdrawn. He stumbled briefly, blue eyes locking with Arthur's for one swift, determined moment before his hands found the statue. And Arthur continued to scream as the passage entrance was suddenly sealed shut; Francis vanished into the turmoil inside the castle.

Ivan whimpered, and grabbed Arthur's arm, "We have to go . . . We have to go," he whispered, tears welling in his eyes again. "We have to . . . Arthur . . ."

Arthur wasn't sure how he'd managed to get outside the castle when he found himself beside the river. Ivan was tucked securely in one arm and Natalia nestled in the folds of his shirt so that he could keep one hand on the wall. The light of the fortress was behind them, ten times brighter than on a normal night as the flames spread across it as they crawled into the outside air. The prince shivered with the cold of the October evening, clutching Ivan closer to him. Blood was on his hands from where he'd rubbed it off the front of his shirt and face, and he stared at it, unseeing, for what must have been hours, the castle crumbling and collapsing in flames on the outskirts of his vision.

Francis would come soon, right? Any minute now. That's what he kept telling himself as the night grew darker and darker. He'd promised to meet them. He'd promised. But as dawn slowly began to break, Ivan half asleep in his arms and Natalia at his chest, he realized what must have happened. They were alone. It was the sound of hooves met his ears that snapped him back to reality as the sun broke over the horizon, and for the briefest of moments, he thought it was Francis riding the horse that approached them out of the snow that had started to fall. He was dismayed to see that it wasn't, but immensely relieved at the same time. The two figures that emerged from the snow were Vash and Liech, Sterling tied behind them.

Liech had cried in relief upon seeing them, jumping down and hugging Ivan and Natalia, then Arthur. She wiped tears from her eyes as she told them how the entire castle had gone up in flames, and they thought no one else had made it out. Pushing back blond locks from her eyes, she pointed to the child climbing down from the unicorn's saddle.

Yao was covered in dried blood, and he stumbled a bit as he approached them, relief clear in his dark eyes. Ivan didn't open his eyes from the comatose-like sleep that he'd fallen into when Wang-Yao knelt down beside him, shaking from exhaustion and emotion. "We thought . . . You were all dead. Katyusha . . ." He whispered, voice breaking.

"I know," Arthur whispered, placing a hand on the child's shoulder. "Yao, give Kiku to me."

Vash looked mildly surprised when Yao unraveled the baby from the folds of his long robes, revealing his brother without so much as a scratch on Kiku's face. "Mama . . . Mama told me to keep him safe. I kept him safe."

"You did good," Liech whispered, taking both Natalia and Kiku from Arthur.

The blond lowered his gaze to Ivan again, holding the sleeping child close, "I'm not going until Francis gets here," he muttered, taking note of Vash's growing impatience.

The older man narrowed his eyes, "We can't stay Arthur. And believe me, I want to too. I was there when the west wing of the castle collapsed with Roderich and Elizaveta still inside. I want to stay and find them, at least their bodies, but we'll get killed by your father's men if we linger much longer." He was silent a moment when Arthur didn't reply before he spoke again, "Arthur, we have to leave before they find us again. We can go to the West Kingdom; it's our best bet for now. We'll alert the Southeast too." He glanced at Arthur with regret clear in his eyes, "We won't let them have died in vain. I'm sure Roman will want revenge because of Franci-"

"Francis isn't dead!" Arthur shrieked, startling Ivan awake, "He's not dead! He's not!" He shook his head furiously, wiping away the tears that had started to fall, "I'd know if he was dead! He's not! He's . . . He's not dead . . ."

The taller man's gaze turned cold, "Arthur, shut up and know when you're wrong. The entire castle burned down. You think I don't know how you feel? Katyusha is gone! Roderich and Elizaveta are gone! They're all gone, Arthur, Francis too, so just shut up so we can get the hell out of here before we join them!"

Liech looked startled, wrapping her arms around Arthur's shoulders as he wailed and screamed, "Vash! Don't say that!" She made a shushing noise, trying to comfort the prince, "Arthur, Arthur, please, calm down. You'll hurt the baby. Arthur, please, the baby . . ."

Arthur repressed another sob, burying his head against her shoulder. No, he knew it couldn't be true. If Francis was dead, he'd know. He'd know . . . He had to keep telling himself that, or he'd die as well.

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

Arthur wasn't sure when they had arrived in the West Kingdom, only that they had. He vaguely recalled cold and sleepless nights with Ivan tucked against his side and Natalia at his chest. He remembered carrying every one of the children at some point or another as their eyes drooped with exhaustion or when they wailed with hunger. On the second night, he and Liech had stayed awake with Kiku and Natalia, tired midnight hours crushing up and adding warm water to whatever food they had so the babies wouldn't starve.

As if he'd been expecting them, High Prince Germania met them on the outskirts of the West Kingdom. His long blond hair was behind his back with a single thin braid over his right ear. He was leaning on the battlements of what appeared to be a freshly built wall when he saw them, and he called for the gates to be opened as he rushed down to meet them.

"Been waiting for us?" Vash joked sarcastically, stepping down off his horse.

"Don't be stupid," Germania drawled, "The Fires of the North Kingdom could be seen from here." He sighed, running a hand through his golden hair, exhaustion clear on his face, "I was hoping there would be more survivors than this."

Vash's eyebrows furrowed together, "Yes . . ." He stared at the cobbled stone road at his feet, "But we did save all three heirs to the North. And the Crown Prince too. That's at least something to be grateful for, isn't it?"

Germania raised his eyes to where Arthur sat with Ivan and Natalia on Sterling, "The Crown Prince? Crown Prince Arthur?" The younger blond merely nodded in conformation, emerald eyes glazed and unseeing.

Vash glanced at him sympathetically before turning his attention back to Germania, "As you can see by our company, Francis von Bonnefoy is not among us. It's . . . Rather hard on him. And besides a few words to Liech and Ivan, he hasn't spoken at all."

"Understandable," Germania whispered. "But, am I correct in assuming that my nephew and his wife . . ."

The North soldier's face darkened, "The whole castle went up in flames and crumbled to the ground," he said simply, directing his eyes at the stone road again. "I . . . I saw Roderick and Elizaveta disappear beneath the ash and rubble." Taking notice of the freshly built wall whose gates they passed through, he changed the subject, "When did you build that?"

Germania smirked slightly, "A week or so ago. Took awhile, but we made it in record time. It stretches all the way around the West Kingdom." His eyes narrowed, "We had no choice but to build it really, the Kings gone fucking insane, Vash. He was threatening Roman a month or so ago and it's all gone downhill from there." He motioned to the wall sadly, "Right now, that's the only thing keeping the West Kingdom from being burned to the ground like the North was."

Arthur had looked up at the mention of Francis's father and his own in the same context, "What did he want with Prince Roman?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse from days of misuse.

The High Prince raised an eyebrow, knowing he'd caught Arthur's attention, "You wouldn't have heard, I 'spose, since the North Kingdom succeeded. But the Southeast is sheltering a pair of very special twins right now. Twins your father wants to kill more than anything else besides yourself and your husband." He glanced at the Crown Prince, hoping he hadn't struck a nerve before continuing to explain, "Those twins are what the royalty would call half-blood. Half lower chain Nobility, half commoner. A servant girl was the mother, last name Bonnefoy. The sister of Francis's mother." Germania sighed, "I guess you could say your loon of a father is taking everything out on the two because of the similarities and relation to Francis."

The Crown Prince clenched his teeth, furry clear in his emerald eyes, "Just because of their blood?" He let out a snarl, "Blood is nothing. Francis . . ." Arthur closed his eyes, clenching his fist, as if he could see something that they could not, "Francis's blood was the same color as mine. And so was Ivan's. Yao's too. It's all the same." He opened his eyes again, determination flaring in them, "There will be no more unnecessary bloodshed because of class. I won't have it."

Germania smirked as if he'd only been waiting for such words, "Are you suggesting we act, Crown Prince?"

Arthur smiled, the first, though small, smile in days, "If you'll have me, I'd like to change the way Hetalia is governed. But in order to do so, I think I need to take the throne that should rightfully be mine, don't you agree?"

"But of course, King Arthur," Germania said smoothly, "We've only been waiting for your return." He turned to one of the guards following them, "Go now, ride to the Southeast and alert Roman. The King has returned."

Arthur nodded to the guard gratefully as he dashed off towards the stables before turning to Vash, "You'll help us, won't you Vash?" he asked hesitantly.

Vash bit his lip, "Idiot. I have friends and a High Princess to avenge, of course I'll help. I want to get rid of the Nobility once and for all." He held out his hand for Arthur to take, "Just promise that I get to be the one to gut that piss-head of a father of yours."

"I won't be going into battle, so feel free," Arthur laughed.

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

To Ivan, the West Kingdom castle was even larger than the North Kingdom's, even though there was much less land around it, and had a lot less people inside it. Arthur was busy planning a war with High Prince Germania and Vash, and Liech and Yao had their hands full caring for Kiku and Natalia. So Ivan was exploring since there seemed to be nothing better to do.

He held little remorse for what had happened to his mother. In truth, he had grown up hardly ever seeing her aside from the few months after Natalia was born. But inside, his heart still pounded with fear as he recalled the roof of Natalia's room collapsing. How he'd snatched her sister from her cradle just before the wood and stone crushed it. And more than anything else, he'd wanted to cry when he looked at Arthur, the blonde's glazed eyes that still retained hope for the husband that had vanished into the flames.

So he wandered down the eerily empty halls, feeling the edges of tapestries and curtains and tracing the patterns on intricate wooden doors. Half of him wanted to just go and pester Yao anyways, but he knew that the older boy would eventually snap under the strain of looking after both him and Kiku. And he didn't want to see that. So he'd stay out of the way for now.

He stopped with his hand against one of the doors, turning slightly as he noticed the noises from inside. But that wasn't the reason he'd paused, there had been noises in some of the other rooms too after all. Maids talking and butlers preparing trays of food for the castle's guests. This time however, he could swear what he heard was a . . . A chicken?

Slowly, he cracked the door open, peering inside cautiously. He wasn't sure if he should laugh at what he saw, or be extremely disappointed that it wasn't a chicken that was making that noise. Another boy who seemed to be about the same age as him was jumping spastically around the room and flailing his arms, making chicken noises of all things. He turned as Ivan opened the door, revealing silver-white hair and startling crimson eyes. The boy paused mid step, arms still half raised in the air and only looking slightly startled that someone had discovered him doing something so weird.

"What, you've never seen someone act like a chicken before?" he asked sarcastically, lowering his hands to his hips.

"No," Ivan said quietly, "I haven't."

The other boy raised a skeptic eyebrow as if he couldn't quite believe that, "Oh." He sat down on the floor, patting the empty space of carpet in front of him, an indication for Ivan to sit, and he did. "I haven't seen you around before," the albino stated, pointing out the obvious.

"I just got here," Ivan deadpanned, crossing his legs.

The scarlet eyed child stared at him curiously for a moment smiling, "Okay then. Let's play!"

Ivan blinked, "Play?"

"Uhmm . . . Yeah. Play," the albino snorted, standing up and holding out a hand towards the other child, "Ever heard of it?" He laughed at the confused look Ivan gave him, "Don't worry then, we'll play together. I'll show you how!" He grinned, "What's your name?"

"Ivan."

The other boy smile, taking Ivan's hand and pulling him up, "I'm Gilbert." He pointed dramatically at the ceiling with his other hand, "Now, we're gonna play the Bird Game!"

"Bird Game?" Ivan echoed. The complete truth was that he'd really never done anything close to playing before. His mother had been training him in the proper mannerisms of the North Kingdom Royalty, or having a special instructor teach him how to use a sword properly. When he was with Yao, they would read together underneath the kitchen counters in quiet whispers. But that wasn't playing; Arthur and Francis read him stories too. There hadn't been any real "playing."
Gilbert nodded, "You know, like I say the name of a bird and then we pretend to be it. It's awesome." He paused a minute, a comical look of concentration on his face, "Let's see . . . How about . . . A peacock!" Ivan could only stare as the other boy began to strut jerkily around the room. "Come on!" he called, "Be a peacock!"

So Ivan imitated him, having never seen the creature aside from a storybook he'd had. Gilbert laughed, leading him in a small parade around the room. "Now duck!" he declared, splaying his feet and starting to waddle.

Ivan smiled, "No, no! You have to quack too or you're not a real duck!"

"Ah, you're right!" the albino exclaimed, adding a quack to his waddle, "Now you pick the bird, quack."

The taller child paused his waddle, "Umm . . . Eagle?"

Gilbert whooped and turned to leap onto the bed on the far side of the room, Pulling Ivan up behind him. He clasped their hands together, knees bent in the ready position, "Okay, when I say go, you jump. Got it?"

"Why?"

"So it feels like we're flying, just like an eagle," Gilbert grinned, gripping the other's hands tighter, "Ready? One . . . Two . . . Jump!"

Ivan's stomach dropped as they leapt into the air, springing off the mattress hand in hand. Their feet touched the sheets again and Gilbert crouched down to give them an extra boost, grabbing a blanket off the edge of the bed as he did so, letting go of One of Ivan's hands so that he could tie it around his neck. When they jumped again, the blanket flared out behind the albino, looking almost like the wings Ivan knew he was pretending it was. And the child from the North Kingdom laughed at the sight, their hands falling together again as they bounced on the bed. He gasped in surprise as Gilbert mid-air tackled him, covering him with the blanket and pushing him down with a grin.

"You laughed! You laughed!" Gilbert shrieked as though this was the best thing in the world as they wrestled around on the bed, trying in vain to untangle themselves from the blanket. Eventually, Gilbert just gave up and pulled another blanket up from the end of the bed, enveloping them both with it as he sat up, the soft cloth resting on their heads. "It's our secret base, kay?" he whispered.

"Kay," Ivan whispered back, trying to be secretive. He sat up a bit more, the first blanket still tangled around his feet. The trail ends of his scarf lay among the twisted blanket and he tightened the article around his neck, picking up the ends to hold them in clenched fingers. There were small burns and holes on the fraying edges from the night the North Fortress had collapsed, and he narrowed his eyes at them, whishing they'd disappear.

Gilbert noticed the look and leaned forward, his hands falling over Ivan's tight fists, "I . . . Why don't you tell me about it," he squeezed Ivan's hands, "I'll listen."

Ivan was silent a moment before he turned his hands upwards, dropping the ends of the scarf and squeezing the fingers around his own. "My mommy . . ." He began voice trembling a bit, "My mommy gave me this scarf. She gave it to me because I don't like the cold, even though we lived in the North Kingdom." He paused, sucking in a shaky breath and staring up the blanket sheltering them from the world, "My mommy died."

The albino lowered his gaze, unsure of what to say. But he gripped Ivan's hands tighter, "Did you love your mommy?"

"No," Gilbert's eyes widened at the strange answer. "I cared about her . . . But I don't think it was the love I should have had. She was never around. Sometimes I would go so long without seeing her that when I did see her, I didn't recognize her." He swallowed, staring at Gilbert questioningly, "Is that . . . Is that a bad thing to say?"

The other boy twined their fingers together, "Nuh-uh . . . There's no rule on loving your mother. I think." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "So, you don't have a family then?"

Ivan tilted his head to the side; "I have Arthur, and Natalia, and . . . And Francis . . ." He trailed off, dropping one of Gilbert's hands to fiddle uncomfortably with the tattered ends of his scarf.

Gilbert used his empty hand to take a look at the damage to the article, "I can fix that you know," he said after a moment.

"You can?"

The other child grinned, "Yup! Wait here, kay?" He wiggled out from beneath their makeshift hideout and came back a moment later with a small box. He pushed the blanket up again and slid back inside, opening the lid of the item to reveal a collection of needles and thread. "What color?"

" . . . Red?" Ivan said, unsure of what color he wanted the stitches to be. But he wanted them to stand out, so that he'd remember why they were there in the first place. He watched as Gilbert threaded the needle and began to fix the frayed edges right away. He cut away the burned parts and pulled what remained back together with the thread, repairing the holes and tears with careful movements. When he finished it was an inch or so shorter than before, but otherwise it looked much better.

"Do you want me to add a heart here?" He asked, pointing to the corner of one end.

"Why?" Ivan asked in bewilderment. There was nothing wrong with that corner.

"For the mommy that gave it to you," Gilbert whispered, "Because if she gave it to you, she must have loved you."

Ivan rubbed a hand over his eyes, hiding the sorrow that had appeared there, "Kay." He looked up when Gilbert had finished, holding up the other end of the scarf to him, "Put some hearts here too." He pointed to the corner, "Two big ones, a medium one, and a little one. For Arthur and Francis and Natalia and me."

So Gilbert did, biting the thread off after he'd finished, tying it off as he examined his handiwork. "How's that?"

"Good," Ivan whispered, fingering the small stitches, "Thank you."

Gilbert grinned proudly, "Anytime!" He too turned to look at the stitched hearts, "So, um, this Arthur . . . Is he your dad?"

"No."

"Then where will you go when he leaves?"

Ivan's eyes widened, he'd never thought about it like that. Arthur had been around for as long as he could remember, a permanent fixture. He'd forgotten that the man wasn't his family. His eyes filled almost immediately with tears and he held back a sob. Would he be all alone with Natalia when Arthur left?

The albino started with surprise at the tears that began to trickle down Ivan's face, reaching over to wipe them away with his sleeve, "Oh no, no, no! Don't cry, I'm sorry I made you cry!"

"It wasn't you," Ivan hiccupped, "I just . . . If Arthur leaves, Natalia and I'll be all alone now without my mommy."

"I'll be here," Gilbert whispered, trying to calm the onslaught of tears and sobs.

"But you can't take care of me," Ivan pointed out, "you're too little."

Gilbert stuck out his lower lip, "Then just go tell this Arthur guy what you think. Tell him you want to stay with him."

"What if he says no?" Ivan sniffed.

"I'll be here. I'll think of something."

^-^ ^-^ ^-^

Arthur was sitting on the bed he'd been provided with, reading, when the door opened a crack. He raised his eyes towards it, feeling slightly apprehensive after the events in the North until he heard small voices.

"Just get in there and do it!"
"What if he says no!?"

"Get in there and you'll find out!"

The blond smiled as Ivan was shoved inside the room, another boy with silver-white hair falling in after him when the taller child turned and dragged him down with him and they toppled to the floor. "Anything you need Ivan?" He asked lightly, closing his book and placing it on the bedside dresser.

"No," Ivan said immediately.

"Yes!" Gilbert yelled, getting a punch in the arm from the other boy.

The Crown Prince patted the bed beside him, "Come here then." He glanced at the other boy, "Oh, and Gilbert? Your father was looking for you."

"Ah, shoot," Gilbert muttered, dashing out of the room with a dismayed look from Ivan directed at his back as he left.

Arthur patted the bed again; watching as Ivan nervously climbed up beside him and sat down on his knees, shifting from side to side uncomfortably. "Ivan?" Arthur prompted, watching the way the child's hands had clenched around the ends of his long scarf.
"Mommy's gone," Ivan said quietly.

"Yes," Arthur whispered, reaching over to run his hand's through the boy's hair.

Ivan stared up at the hand, relaxing a bit under the touch before he turned his eyes so that lavender met emerald. "I . . . I want to know what will happen to me. Who's going to take care of me now that mommy's gone?"

Arthur looked startled, as if he'd just assumed that Ivan wouldn't worry about such a thing, or that maybe the answer had seemed obvious, "I'll take care of you, Ivan."

"Really?" Ivan looked surprised, which made Arthur laugh.

"Of course. I'll take care of both you and Natalia for as long as you need me."

Ivan unclenched his hands, revealing the end of the scarf with the four hearts stitched into it, "A family, like this?"

The blond smiled, placing a finger on each heart, "Yes. What's the fourth one for, the baby?" he pointed to his swollen stomach.

"For Francis," Ivan said simply.

Arthur's mouth formed into a tight line, his characteristic eyebrows knitting together, ". . . For Francis . . ."

"Because we should all be together," Ivan murmured.

"That's right," Arthur whispered, drawing him up into his arms, hugging him close so that the child couldn't see his tears, "So we can all be together . . ."

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

*le sigh* my lateness is not excused other than the fact that I had super writers block on this chapter about half way through. Basically, the scene where the castle gets attacked. But I plowed on through. *is triumphant*

I got to introduce Kiku this chapter in the little flash forward at the beginning. And I got to show you Ivan and Gilbert's first meeting at the end. Then there's Arthur's shitty life all over the place. =_= Yup. He really does have it hard, with Francis gone now and all. But you already know Francis's fate if you remember the first chapter at all. Anywho . . . Been so busy so chapters are REALLY slow right now. But I have a group project, a casebook, and an oral recitation of the Canterbury Tales prologue in Middle English all at once. And that's just English class. D: don't even get into science or math. Damn me and my AP stuff. That and I was messing around on Windows Movie Maker. A lot.

But review and I will update faster! Please? For little Russia-chan? Kolkolkolkolkol . . .