Backstory 6. Uprising.

(A/N: This chapter deals with some heavy stuff, but nothing explicit. This story is remaining T. Obviously, sexual abuse, child abuse, physical abuse, scarring is involved due to the fact that it's Arthur's backstory. You've all been warned.)

He had to…to…tune it out. F…forget about it. Forget about the searing pain, forget about the fact that he desperately wanted to cry…but he couldn't. He'd risk getting hit again. He had to just…just take it. Until Master was finished, he could deal with the pain. Finally, finally, the man was done with him, leaving him alone in that room with the really, really big bed. It wasn't often Arthur had the chance to leave it.

The second the door closed, Arthur didn't hesitate to let the tears fall, pouring down his face. He couldn't be loud, but he could still cry into the bed. They'd be changing the sheets soon anyway. The other slaves. The ones that always looked at him with either scorn and distaste or sorrow and sympathy. But they weren't allowed to talk to him. He was only allowed to talk to Master and no one else. He'd almost messed up once, almost said thank you to a nice one. He never saw her again.

He shivered at the cold that soon surrounded him and curled into a little ball on the bed. He never had any clothes, they were just a waste of time to Master. He was always either too hot or too cold, but he couldn't let that bother him.

Once he got out all of his crying, his cleaned up his face with the sheets, hoping he didn't look red and puffy. Master hit him especially hard when his face didn't look good. That was all he was there for; to look pretty while Master did what he wanted. Since before he could even remember, that had always been his life. He had heard the slaves whispering to themselves once. The second he didn't need his mother, this was to be his fate.

In the hours that followed, the slaves came in, changed the sheets, quickly bathed Arthur, and left him alone to shiver at the cold. He didn't know anything about what was outside of that room, aside from the bathroom that he was allowed every once in a while…But he had heard talk about seasons, how it would get warmer and colder, how there was something called the sun, the moon. He wanted to see what was outside of that room…

All of his thoughts were washed away as Master trudged into the room, tired from a long day's work, and Arthur plastered a smile on his face, far from ready for the pain that would soon return.

Arthur hated the shackles. Master loved them. The way the chains clattered on the ground as Arthur stumbled, hardly able to walk. Partly due to the fact that he wasn't quite used to walking and partly due to the fact that his entire body still hurt from just a few hours before. But now he was walking through a really dark alleyway, unable to keep up the pace his master wanted. He constantly tumbled to the ground and all Master cared about was that there were no scrapes. He had to be in good condition.

They reached an open area, then, with a really bright light. Master shoved him forward, into the center of the light that nearly blinded him. Around the light, he could see…people. A lot of people. He heard a lot of people talking and whistling at him and he didn't know what to do. Master hadn't told him anything. Most of what Arthur could think about was the fact that the shackles were hurting him. They were too heavy, too tight. But Master didn't care.

So many words were flung around too fast for him to understand, and then he was forced away, back into the darkness too fast for his eyes to adjust. Master lead him by the chains trapping his wrists, tugging him forcefully through the black hallways while Arthur blindly adjusted to the change in lighting.

They stopped in a hallway with fairly good lighting and Master told him to stay put. So he did, catching his breath and staring at the ground. He didn't understand what was going on. He'd been taken from the room, unable to see the world around him as he was moved, despite how much he wanted to…and now…

"This is him, huh?" another man walked up to them, the same smile on his face that Master usually had.

"He's all yours," Master said and Arthur blinked in surprise. What was going on? Had he done something bad to Master? Was he getting rid of him? But he didn't know this man in front of him.

"How's he deal with pain?" the man…his…new Master…asked. Arthur fought not to flinch. He knew what was coming. One of Master's favorite games to play. Now Master…his old Master…was smiling. He'd brought his favorite toy, too. The whip.

"Watch," Master smiled and Arthur obediently turned his back, knowing just what would happen if he didn't. A flick, a snap, a wicked amount of pain. Arthur flinched, but he didn't cry out. He couldn't. Or Master would be mad. Both Masters laughed.

"Amazing," new Master laughed as old Master landed another blow. "Let me try." New Master was a lot rougher, a lot harder. It took all of Arthur's strength not to cry out as he gripped hard onto the wall, at least as best as he could. He fought back a whimper. He was bleeding, but apparently new Master liked that. He landed a few more hits, laughing happily as he did so. Finally, Arthur couldn't take it, he cried out at the last it, and froze in absolute fear. But he didn't speak. Not unless Master said so. "Did I say you could fucking speak?" A thick hand slammed into his face, forcing him to clatter onto the ground with the chains. His shirt was now in tatters and his back was bleeding something fierce. But he couldn't run. He knew that. He breathed deeply, not looking new Master in the eye. He was told that was bad. "Look me in the eye when I'm talking to you!" new Master snapped and Arthur blinked, looking up at the terrifying man in front of him. He gave a wicked smile and Arthur wanted to cry, but he was sure he ran out of tears years ago.

Arthur laid on his side. It hurt too much to lie on his back. He wished he had a window. That was what that part of the wall was called that let you look at the outside world. Arthur wanted to see it. So bad. But he could barely walk, he could barely speak, even when Master wanted him to. He would never be able to see outside. And he knew it.

Arthur sighed as slaves came into his room and he moved from the bed, shackles clacking onto the floor. Master liked the shackles, they were a fun game. Sometimes, he found joy in sprawling Arthur out at impossible angles with the shackles. Arthur could barely remember having them off since he came there. The slaves just washed him around it, leaving him without clothes as usual, and he sat back down on the clean sheets. It was a ritual by now. One that Arthur knew all too well.

It would never change, would it?

"And how old is he, again?" new Master asked. It was a woman. That part startled Arthur the most. He'd been sold again because old Master needed money. He was almost happy to say goodbye to old Master. He liked him less than his first Master. He didn't know about this woman, though. She looked just like all of the others.

"10," old Master said proudly. Arthur had no idea that was how old he was. He'd been like this for 10 years. The thought made him feel a little hollow inside.

"Perfect," new Master smiled.

"Any other questions?" old Master asked curiously.

"Nope," new Master chimed. "You can leave now," she said bluntly and old Master left. Arthur couldn't allow himself to relax. He was startled, however, when new Master knelt down in front of him. She had bright, happy green eyes that Arthur had never seen before…in anyone. She had very long red hair that was obviously well taken care of. She…smiled at him. "Hi."

"H-Hello," Arthur barely managed out. He didn't know a lot of words, so he hoped new Master wouldn't make him speak too much.

"What's your name?" new Master asked. Arthur stared at her in wonder. His other Masters hadn't cared about his name, calling him…other things. It was a wonder that he remembered his name.

"Arthur," he muttered.

"It's nice to meet you, Arthur," she smiled at him and produced a small key from her pocket, probably from old Master. She delicately took one of Arthur's hands, much more delicately than he was used to, and unlocked the shackle, showcasing the bright red, puffy scars that were underneath. Arthur bit his lip. She did the same for his other wrist and both of his ankles. "It looks like we'll need to get you shoes, huh? How well can you walk?"

"N-not very, Master," Arthur said.

"Oh, please don't call me that, love," she cooed softly, running a delicate hand through his hair. "Call me…hm…call me Britannia, alright?" Arthur nodded numbly. "It's quite a walk to my car, would you like for me to carry you?"

"I can walk alright on my own," Arthur muttered. That was far from true. His feet were raw from walking there already. But he couldn't inconvenience Master…Britannia.

"You're very brave," Britannia smiled and easily picked up Arthur, resting him on her hip easily. Arthur was surprised, to say the least, but Britannia simply started humming softly to him as she started walking. She had a very soothing voice and Arthur found his eyelids drooping without his permission as he clung to her. He could ignore the confused faces of everyone else around them, solely focused on the sound of Britannia's humming. He smiled as he fell asleep before they even left the building.

Arthur drowsily woke up, warmly wrapped up in a thick layer of blankets. The pillow under his head was soft, nearly soft enough to lull him back to sleep. He was so warm…he felt almost happy. He smiled as he nuzzled into the warmth. But that was when he remembered. He had a new Master to please. He sat bolt upright, used to ignoring the pain in his backside. His bed was…rather small. Not big enough for two people. His room was rather small as well, with a weird furniture he'd never seen before. And there was something odd in the wall. He peered closer and saw that it was really…bright. He wasn't sure if he liked it. It wasn't a light…it was different.

But he didn't dare move from his bed to look closer. Britannia might not like that.

The door opened and he stiffened slightly, offering his usual smile, but it dropped when Britannia gave him a sweet, innocent smile.

"Morning," she said sweetly. "I'm happy you're awake." Arthur just nodded and noticed that Britannia was holding a small tray with…food on it. Arthur was usually scarcely fed and he felt his stomach growl something fierce. Was this some kind of trap? Was he not supposed to eat this? She placed the tray beside him on the bed. "You can go ahead and eat what you like. I know you're hungry." Arthur nodded and reached forward to the small roll that laid on the tray. There was other food that he didn't recognize and he wasn't sure if he could trust it.

"I'm really sorry," Britannia sighed, almost sadly, as she looked Arthur in the eye, "for everything that's happened to you." Arthur was almost scared. No one apologized to him. Ever. He usually apologized. "But I promise, nothing bad will happen to you anymore."

"What do you mean?" Arthur muttered. He'd barely eaten any of his roll, he usually wasn't very hungry when Master allowed him to eat anyway.

"Arthur," Britannia sighed, running a delicate hand through his hair. Arthur had learned a long time ago not to flinch. "I promise you don't have to be scared anymore. I'll never make you do anything you don't want to. You're safe here. You're not a slave anymore."

"I'm…what?" Arthur muttered. He hadn't even noticed that he'd dropped his roll. This had to be some kind of a trick. There was no way that he wasn't a slave. He…he was a slave. He wasn't anything else. He wasn't…human, like everyone else.

"It takes some time, I understand," Britannia smiled. "For now, eat. Please. I know you're going to grow up big and strong, you just need time. Rest as much as you need to."

"But…you…bought me," Arthur muttered and Britannia nodded.

"So no one else would," she said soothingly. She started humming again, a soothing sound. Arthur didn't know what was coming over him, but he saw tears beginning to cloud his vision. He shook his head, biting his lip, to keep them away. Britannia just continued to lightly stroke his hair and the tears started to pass. But Arthur thought that he'd ran out a long time ago. A small sound slipped past his throat and he didn't care about the tray of food to his side, he clung to the woman beside him, both hands clinging to her shirt as he cried, harder than he'd ever cried before.

She continued humming and stroking his hair with one hand, hugging him back with the other.

For the first time in Arthur's life, he felt safe.

"Hey, Britannia, I was wondering…" Arthur muttered from his desk in the library, where he was looking up from a good stopping point of his book. Britannia was at her own desk and she looked at him with honest curiosity. "Why do we call you that?" All of the former slaves in Britannia's mansion called her that name. But Arthur knew it wasn't her real name. It couldn't be.

"I stopped going by my real name a long time ago," Britannia smiled softly. "It doesn't feel right to use the name of nobility if I don't even consider myself as such anymore."

Arthur nodded. He'd learned a lot in a few years, practically absorbed in books when he had the time. He could understand the words she used like "nobility" now. He was kind of proud of himself, but Britannia had told him to avoid being too proud. It was…unbecoming for a gentleman, as she put it. He was a gentleman now, he wasn't what he used to be, just like her.

"As a spy for the revolutionaries, I took on this name," Britannia continued. "It's just kind of stuck for me. I like the name."

"I like it, too," Arthur said happily and Britannia smiled at him.

"Britannia," a former slave poked in his head, cleaning off his hands on a rag, "your guests have arrived."

"Thank you," she smiled. The entire mansion was crawling with former slaves, all of them doing work around the house, but only when they wanted to. Of course, for a woman like Britannia, they were all more than happy to do what they could without fear of being scolded for being too tired. And the older ones had started disappearing because of Britannia's money.

"I'll go help with the food!" Arthur said happily, shoving away from the desk and running past Britannia to go to the kitchen. Everyone smiled at him as he passed. He was the youngest and they told him to study as much as he could, be smart unlike them since most of their lives they had been slaves. They knew about his past, too, what kind of slave he had been, but never brought it up. If Arthur was fast enough, he could see their looks of pity that they gave him behind their back.

But Arthur had been able to learn how to shove his past into the back of his head, treat it like it never happened. It was just a bad dream. It never happened…

Arthur stopped when he reached the kitchen, seeing that everyone was already moving the food to the dining room for Britannia's guests. He took the basket of rolls and followed everyone, putting the rolls at the center, where they always went. Everyone else was so much better at basic chores than him, but he tried to not let that bother him.

"Thank you for helping, Arthur," Britannia smiled at him before going to individually thank the other former slaves still in the room. Arthur practically beamed, he was so happy. The guests came into the dining room, all of them nodding understandingly at the slaves, though they did seem slightly startled by Arthur and how young he was. But he was used to that by now.

Seeing as this was a secret meeting for Britannia the Spy, everyone left and Arthur darted to the back door, opening it and taking in the wonderful, fresh air. This was his favorite thing to do. Go out at night, into the large backyard, and look up. The sky was so beautiful, one of Arthur's favorite things about the outside. The books he read described it so well, saying that the stars twinkled, that the moon shone brightly in the darkness. A cool breeze whipped past Arthur as he stared up, in the middle of the backyard. He couldn't stop the smile on his face. This had been what he dreamed of for years, trapped in a room his whole life. He loved it so much. This freedom. It was all he could ever ask for.

No…she couldn't be…There was no way…

Arthur shook his head as he backed up from the former slaves that had told him the news. Britannia's body…had been found…run over in the street. She was…but she couldn't be…

Arthur ran. As fast as his legs could carry him. He ran to one of his safe havens, the library, slamming the door shut behind him. He fell to the ground, tears rising to his eyes. He knew that the others must have been just as torn up as he was…but…she couldn't be…She'd told Arthur earlier that day that she'd teach him how to dance. She promised. Arthur choked on his own breath as he tucked his legs close to him, the tears falling without his permission.

She could be dead, dammit!

No one was knocking on the door, no one was trying to calm him down. Everyone else was too busy dealing with the loss themselves. Arthur let out a broken sounding hum, trying to copy the song Britannia always hummed to him when he was upset. When he had his nightmares every night. She would no longer be there, she was unable to help him anymore. Arthur shook his head miserably.

After what felt like hours, Arthur finally stood up. He glanced at Britannia's desk and found that it was swiped clean of her usual paperwork. All that remained was a single piece of paper with her clear handwriting on it. Most of the people in the mansion couldn't read, they had decided that it was too late to learn. But Arthur had been determined to learn when he was younger.

Arthur tentatively walked forward and took hold of the paper. It was a letter…more like a will. Had she known that she was going to die?

Below is all of the information I learned on my specific target over the past few years.

The king has a group of assassins working for him. They have been working together for years, perhaps their whole lives. It took years for me to discover this and it's going to end in my death. They know me. They know my face. I just hope they don't come after the rest.

I leave everything I have left, money, property, the lives that were previously in my care, to Arthur Kirkland. I trust his determination and wit to make it farther than I could have. Please, Arthur, take this information with you and move forward. For the sake of this country. You'll have the power to change something.

On the backside of his paper is a number I need you to call from a safe line. Tell them your entire name, including the last name I just gave you. They'll tell you where to go from here. Please don't give up.

And, when you can, use some of my money to help everyone else get out of this country, they're lives are in your hands now.

-Britannia

Arthur…Kirkland…But…He couldn't take up that responsibility… With shaking hands, Arthur turned over the paper. There was a number, clear as day. And this was definitely her handwriting, no mistakes about that. Her death wasn't an accident…She had been killed by that group of assassins…He would get his revenge, sure enough.

But he couldn't tell the others. Her death had been an accident to them. They couldn't have any ties to the revolutionaries…or else they couldn't leave this country. It was as simple as that. He'd get them the help they needed…and take up after Britannia.

Arthur took out his carefully folded piece of paper as he glanced around. He'd gotten a phone from a rather shady guy on the street, but that didn't matter. It was far from the king's ability to track. It had taken a few months, but he'd managed. He could finally call these mysterious people Britannia had been working for. He punched in the number and put the phone up to his ear. It rang twice.

"Yo, who the hell is this and how'd you get this number?" a voice asked coldly through the device.

Arthur took a deep breath. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, Britannia gave me this number."

"Yeah?" the voice asked skeptically. "Britannia didn't have any relatives, nice try. You working for the shit king in that country, or what?"

"No," Arthur said. "I'm telling you the truth. She was killed by the group of assassins she had found working for the king."

"So then what were you to the woman?" the voice asked. Arthur sighed.

"I was a slave," he admitted, glancing around the street once again, just to make sure. "She rescued me."

"Let's say I give you the benefit of the doubt," the man on the other end sighed. "What can a slave do to help us out?"

"I'm going to find the group that killed her," Arthur muttered darkly. "And I'm going to kill them."

"Tell me your honest opinion of the king," the man said.

"I hate him," Arthur muttered. He still remembered the day Britannia had told him that the king allowed slavery in private. Allowed the selling and buying of other humans. He couldn't…allow someone like that to continue living. "I'll kill him, too."

"Great," the man on the other end quipped. "Even with the king's permission over there, you're not allowed to say shit like that. Congrats, Arthur. You think you're ready to take up where she left off?"

"I'll do all I can," Arthur said.

"Perfect," the man chimed. "The name's Matthias, by the way. I'll give ya an email that king can't trace and we'll stay in contact that way. Phones are way too lame."

Arthur nodded jotting down the email.

"Don't die," were the man's parting words to him and Arthur sighed, hanging up the phone and dropping it to the ground. He was shaking. He didn't even know if he was capable of killing anyone at all, let alone the king. And that group…he was just mad at them. He was beyond furious. They had killed the person that meant the most to him. But…maybe…just maybe, if he could convince them to go against the king…he could forgive them…

Arthur couldn't stop the small smile on his face as he watched the three at the table. He had been designated as the first guard that day. Gilbert was just outside the room. Alfred and Matthew sat beside each other while Mathias sat on the other side of the table. Mathias looked exhausted but the two princes seemed fairly pleased with themselves.

"This is something I'm not budging on," Alfred shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Come on," Mathias groaned. "You've heard about pleasing a few to shut 'em up, right?"

"No way," Matthew shook his head as well. Arthur smiled and he could practically feel Mathias glare going his way.

"What, do you think you could stop me from doing it?" Alfred smirked slightly, a dark glint in his eyes. "Hey, I'll play puppet as long as you want me to, but I'm not dropping this."

"It's not even that big of a deal," Mathias muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"I think it is," Matthew said, leaning forward just slightly. "These are people we're talking about, right?"

"Look, we make a lot of promises going into these revolutions," Mathias said simply. "Not everything's that realistic."

"I think this is perfectly reasonable and realistic," Alfred mused. "Didn't your country ban it, too?"

"And we need to keep this country, and all of its influential people, happy," Mathias said simply.

"How much do you wanna bet that if all of those slaves had the guts and the power, they'd be able to take over this country on their own," Alfred smirked again. "They're pretty strong after all they've had to endure for so long, don't you think?"

"Fine, you wanna tear your country apart? Be my fucking guest," Mathias shook his head. "But you're doing as I say from here on out."

"Sure," Matthew gave a perfectly innocent smile. "Thanks for understanding."

"Thanks," Arthur muttered under his breath and Alfred turned to give him a smile accompanied by a thumbs up.

Cute ending is cute. Can't deny. Arthur's backstory has been planned for a looooong time, but I never got around to it until now. So happy with it. You've all been catching glimpses of Britannia all through the story, especially in the backstories, and now you know her absolute connection. No, she is not related to Arthur in anyway, she just gave him her last name so it would seem like he was. So he could use her money. After that, Arthur kind of just dove into the mentality that he could never be treated as a slave again, becoming obsessed with the fact that he now had a last name, despite the fact that it was fake, and clothes and proper etiquette and all of that jazz. I love Arthur's character in this story so much, I fell in love with him early on.

Hope you enjoyed, last one is Ivan. And that's it, all over! See ya next time!