Chapter 30. Tourniquet.
Gilbert just stared. Nervously. He was slumped on the floor…just staring at the door that separated him from Matthew. And Alfred. And all of those national leaders that Arthur was trying to control. It never ended well when multiple national leaders were in the same place, they had a tendency to fight only to serve their own ends. It made Gilbert's skin crawl knowing that Matthew was the one that they were fighting for. He and Alfred were just pawns to be used. He hadn't signed up for this. He signed up for a revolution, for a chance. He didn't sign up for what he felt for Matthew, didn't sign up for him to turn into some kind of prince. They'd already all been through enough, someone else could have the problems of being in charge of a country.
Finally, the door opened and Gilbert was on his feet. He was supposed to be standing guard, he had to look capable, otherwise he wouldn't get this job again.
"For the last time, I don't think this is a good idea," Arthur said clearly from behind the group of dissatisfied national leaders. Mathias and his group lead the way, quickly followed by Feliks and Yao, who had only recently showed up now that the fighting was over. His troops were meant to "keep the peace", as he put it.
"And I think you need to remember your place," Yao snipped simply and Arthur paused, flinching. "If we need the opinion of property, we'll ask, aru. For now, let us deliberate on the matter." Arthur gritted his teeth, seeming about to say something, but stopping himself. Gilbert stiffened as they walked past him, all of them giving him serious looks, as if questioning his loyalty, wondering if he'd turn on them. They probably trusted the twins even less.
"Gilbert," Arthur sighed heavily, leaning against the doorframe and looking at Gilbert. Arthur's voice cracked slightly and Gilbert sighed. As curious as he was about Arthur's past and President Yao's comment, now wasn't the time to bring it up. He could change the subject.
"How are they?" Gilbert asked, nodding further into the room.
"They're going to start waking up soon," Arthur sighed, looking further into the room. "Come inside, there's no need for you to stand guard, I don't know what those idiots were thinking."
"Why are we with them?" Gilbert asked, following Arthur into the safety of the closed room, away from the prying eyes of the new soldiers that held them captive. It was like nothing had changed, they were still under the charge of some other dictator.
"Could we have done this ourselves, honestly?" Arthur scoffed. "Could we raise a successful army against trained soldiers and Ivan? Could we have afforded that? Managed it? We needed them."
"And all of the strings that came attached to the deal?" Gilbert snapped, looking at the twins, who were resting on the same, large bed, their backs to each other. "I didn't sign up for this. I signed up for changing something. Do you know what they're planning? The same shit that Ivan went through. Put up a popular figure and let someone else pull the strings. We got what we wanted, what's stopping us from just taking charge as it is?"
"Who do we know that could possibly act as a leader?" Arthur scoffed. "We have second-rate nobles and peasants in our group and I'm…nothing. No one would listen to me or any of us. They'll listen to those two," Arthur motioned to Alfred and Matthew. "They'll listen to the leaders of the surrounding countries, out of fear if not respect. They're used to Ivan, what do you want?"
"I want something different, I want what I fought for," Gilbert stated. He flinched when Matthew stirred, rolling over onto his other side, facing Alfred now. "I risked my life for this, Feli died for this, everyone on their team died for this! And what do we have to show for it? No change?"
"There will be change," Arthur sighed. "I've been assured of a few things. Slavery will stop lurking in the shadows, there will be more freedom of expression, the layout of the cities will be improved."
"What good is the word of those guys?" Gilbert rolled his eyes. Alfred groaned and rolled onto his back. Arthur's attention snapped to him, going to his side of the bed immediately. This situation had to be handled carefully and Arthur knew how to handle Alfred better than anyone else.
"Alfred," Arthur said carefully. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, you're loud and clear," Alfred muttered, rubbing at his head.
"Do you…remember?" Arthur muttered and Alfred opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. It was stiflingly quiet in the room. Gilbert swore he could hear a pin drop in the anticipating silence.
"Yeah," Alfred muttered, closing his eyes once again, as if willing the world to go away. "I-"
"You don't have to," Arthur cut him off.
"It was me," Alfred moaned, turning onto his side, covering his face, but Gilbert was sure he wasn't crying. Matthew was oddly still. "I-I shot him…"
"Sh, Alfred," Arthur muttered, running his hands through Alfred's hair. "It's going to be okay, I promise. Please, stay calm."
"But, I," Alfred muttered and Arthur tore his arms down, looking the man in his eyes. Gilbert was right, he wasn't crying.
"Alfred," Arthur said clearly. "Focus. I need you to sit up for me," Alfred nodded slowly and did as he was told, swinging his legs over the side and never breaking eye contact with Arthur. "Now, I need you to tell me what happened. We only entered the room after it was over."
"Please tell me you're burying him." Alfred's eyes were wide, pleading. He gripped onto Arthur's shirt, seeming to hold onto him as if he would break if he let go. "He can't end up like us."
Arthur smiled sadly at him. "Alfred," Arthur sighed, running his hand through Alfred's hair again and tucking a few stray strands behind his ear. "What happened in that room?"
"He ordered me to shoot him," Alfred muttered darkly, staring at Arthur's chest pointedly, still not letting him go despite the fact that his hands were shaking. "I-I tried and I missed…And then he told Mattie to give me his gun. And I was told to shoot him again. I thought…He was…"
"Sh, Alfred," Arthur crooned gently and Gilbert glanced at Matthew, who still had yet to move a single inch during these events. His breathing was perfectly even and all evidence pointed to the fact that he was asleep, but Gilbert knew better than that.
"I wanted to," Alfred muttered, hitting his forehead to Arthur's chest. "He was so…sad…miserable. I wanted to put him out of it…"
"Alfred," Arthur sighed, patting the man's back. "I have something important to tell you. You know of your past and your parents' death, am I correct?" Alfred made a choked noise before nodding against the shirt, shaking like a leaf, threatening to fall off of his branch. "Your parents were not just simple citizens. When this country was founded, there were figurehead rulers set in place, a King and Queen of sorts, that listened to the orders of the higher ups, the leaders of the surrounding countries. They were killed during the first revolution, leaving behind two twin sons."
Alfred pulled back at stared at Arthur, almost terrified. Gilbert knew just what he was thinking. The old King and Queen were puppets, Ivan was a puppet. Alfred and Matthew would be puppets, too. He would be trapped and miserable, just like Ivan. Unable to sleep and completely controlled. They were assassins, trained from birth, they weren't rulers.
"You won't have to do anything alone," Arthur assured him softly, looking him right in his eyes. "Neither of you. You may not know much about ruling, but the leaders of the surrounding countries are more than willing to help."
"You mean they'll tell me what to do?" Alfred asked darkly.
"More or less," Arthur sighed.
Matthew stood up then. Alfred jumped slightly in surprise, and Arthur seemed completely taken aback. Matthew didn't so much as say a word, eyes fixed on the ground, as he stormed out of the room, disregarding the fact that he didn't even have shoes on. Gilbert didn't hesitate to follow him.
"Mattie!" Gilbert called after him, jogging after him to catch up with him since he was walking so fast.
"Go away," Matthew muttered.
"No, you need to talk about this!" Gilbert stayed firm.
"I said go away!" Matthew snapped, turning to glare at Gilbert with harsh, indigo eyes shining with tears Matthew refused to shed, at least, not in front of others. He had been betrayed, left alone, ripped away from the one that lead him through his life for…years…He was broken. And he was trying as hard as he could not to show it. Gilbert stopped walking, watching as Matthew walked as fast as he could, darting around a corner. Gilbert let out a heavy sigh, leaning against a wall. What good was he? He was just some traitor…
Matthew huffed, taking deep breaths as his feet padded loudly across the floor. He had to keep walking, he couldn't afford to sit and think. He'd been awake since Alfred woke up, he heard the entire conversation. Matthew was to be…controlled by the rebels? This soon after the death of his own king? He should have died fighting for the man like he was sure Kiku did. He hadn't seen the man, surely he'd been killed. He felt his entire body quivering as he fought back the tears he refused to acknowledge. He stopped at a window and moved towards the screen, pressing the button to open it, allowing in the air from the outside. He stared at the capital, which looked unchanged, though Matthew couldn't help but feel like he couldn't recognize anything about it. The window sill was fairly large, Matthew noticed, with plenty of room to sit down. Matthew wasted no time in getting comfortable, his legs swinging below him.
He heard someone walking by long before they noticed him, but Matthew didn't dare look at them. He had never strayed from the king and the rebels had won, leaving him at their mercy. Maybe Alfred could trust them, but Matthew was far from it. He couldn't trust anyone, not Arthur, not Alfred…not Gilbert.
"So, you are Matthew," the person behind him said, after taking a moment to be startled by his presence. "I didn't know you were awake."
"Well, I am," Matthew said bluntly. The man talked like a practiced noble. What business did a noble have becoming a revolutionary? "Do you want something?"
"The city can be pretty," the man sighed, leaning against the sill to Matthew's left. There was plenty of room for him to take up his own space. Matthew took his features in, remembering when Alfred gave them detailed explanations of what everyone in the rebels looked like. This was Francis. "It has its moments, I admit."
"What do you want?" Matthew snapped. He was to be forced into this role of prince he had no idea about, he was angry, he was confused, he was hurt. He still couldn't get the image of Ivan with a hole through his head out of his mind.
"You do not trust anyone, which is understandable," Francis sighed. "Though I wish you could hear me out. I realize I've given you no reason, but, humor me. What could it hurt?"
Matthew looked at him. Francis seemed harmless, with light blue eyes, only slightly clouded with dirty things like death and destruction. Matthew's eyes were far from that innocent. Matthew nodded for him to continue and Francis nodded in thanks.
"I grew up as a rather privileged noble, as my father had been on the right side of the first revolution," Francis said simply, staring out at the city. A small breeze whipped past them. "My father had whatever he wanted, I was allowed to do what I wanted. One day, he took me to an…auction of sorts. Where people were sold as property. I was disgusted, but everyone around me took it as something…normal. I started looking around. I saw a city filled with filthy people living lives hardly worth living. I watched as people lived in their own filth and didn't change anything about it because the king said it was alright. I saw nobility that lived lavishly, without a care in the world, able to break the rules because they created them. This country made me sick, down to its very core. I hated it and I directed that towards the country's leader, its king. And so I fought against him with everything I had, going so far as to kill my own father. Now that the king's dead, I look at this country and see that all of my struggle and noticing things never changed anything. What I fought for, what we all fought for, it still doesn't exist. At least not yet. We didn't do anything."
"My only purpose in life was to obey him," Matthew muttered. "To do what he said, like a good servant, assassin, whatever name you want to use. I always thought this whole time that the king had a reason for it, for everything. He wasn't in control at all, was he?" Francis looked at him, surprised. Like it was a wonder Matthew figured it out. "I could tell, especially in the end. He was making stupid decisions, decisions Ivan would never make. Someone else was guiding him, telling him what to do. What to say. He wasn't happy. Alfred was right…" Matthew hugged his legs close to his chest while he stared into the city. He was…terrified. He couldn't do this, he couldn't handle this. He wasn't brave enough.
"When I started out trying to fight, I was alone," Francis said. "I had no one to help me and I was trying to think of all of these ideas and I was far too terrified to try any of them. My fear didn't go away when I joined with Arthur. I was about ready to run screaming as we attacked this building. And I've learned a few things. Bravery doesn't have to be large acts of heroics or involving daredevil antics. Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying 'I will try again tomorrow'. And I know. Trying again is hard, but that is where the courage comes in."
"What should I even try again?" Matthew scoffed, shaking his head. The man's words had struck a chord with him. He was terrified of what was to come, the idea of being treated as a puppet. He was terrified because he no longer had the king to guide him.
"Trust," Francis shrugged. "None of us have given you any reason to trust us as we know that full well. However, in light of certain circumstances, perhaps you should try opening your mind. That is plenty of courage and I have no doubt you hold it."
"I've never thought that this city was pretty," Matthew shook his head, letting out a long breath. Francis waited patiently. "It's always been really gray and dull. When we went to Merkatus, I was able to see a world of color. Do you think this country will be able to look like that?"
Matthew looked at Francis directly in the eye and Francis smiled slightly, giving a light shrug.
"I guess you'll have to find out some way to clip those strings they have over you and Alfred," Francis smiled. "And be brave enough to take charge and make sure it does."
Matthew nodded, a small smile tracing his face.
Feels. Feels. Everywhere. Choke on them. More feels to come soon, I promise. I think there's two more chapters of main plot and then it's backstory time! Lots of feels because you're getting backstories for EVERYONE, including the ones that died. So you take that. Haha. Anyway, I'm hyper, it's late for me, I'm going to go to sleep.
Have a good day everyone and please review.