Alfred made his steady way in the direction Gilbert threw him in. Because where else could he go? He was planning on living on the outskirts of Diamonds, somewhere safe, somewhere discreet, and somewhere that wasn't anywhere at all. So Alfred trekked through forests and fields. It didn't take too long, because by the time the moon had risen to it's highest point in the sky, Alfred saw a small Cabin puffing out lovely gray smoke in the middle of what seemed to be a half-harvested field. Alfred smiled and flicked Ace's reins. "Just a few more steps, buddy. Gilbert said they'd help us."

He approached the cabin, somewhat weary of the fact that the inhabitants seemed to be awake so late at night. And during the harvest, too! Alfred grew up on a farm, he knew these things were almost never done.

So he hopped off of Ace and tugged the lead until he was standing at the door. He gave it a sharp rap and attempted to flatten his hair while a rustling sound came towards the door.

Alfred wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Maybe an old hermit, a farmer in dirty suspenders, or even a weathered witch.

He certainly wasn't expecting a beautiful young woman dressed in an equally beautiful dress. She smiled at him, (she was ever so tall!) and waved a delicate hand in greeting. "'Ello," she said, her accent thick.

Alfred managed some manners and bowed a bit at the blonde. "Hello, ma'am. Gilbert sent me to-"

The woman held up her hand. "No...my Spaden...it not so good. I feed and sleep you. I tell to you my story, and then you will go to next help."

Alfred had trouble comprehending the chopped words the woman was throwing at him. He had grown quite used to speaking Deckian, as was customary for most well-to-do cards. It was a universal language used by all Kingdoms, but often on the outskirts in the small villages, the people kept to their home language. Alfred himself had a thick Spaden accent, according to those in capitol.

Perhaps that's why the workers there liked him so much.

He sounded like home.

The woman tugged him out of his thoughts and into her home, bustling over to the kitchen. "I make the cake and chocolate, Gilbert tells to me you like them."

Alfred nodded happily. "Yes! They're my favorite!"

Then woman happily sat him down, and went off to fetch the treats, neither concerned with the unhealthy aspects of eating dessert for dinner. (Because, as Arthur would say: "They call it dessert for a reason! Otherwise we'd call it Dinner!")

The bubbly hostess set down a massive slice of chocolate cake in front of Alfred. She sat down with a plate herself, and began to pick at it.

"This is awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, after taking his first bite.

The woman nodded, and they continued their meal in silence. It was only after the dishes were put away that she spoke again. "Your hand...can I look?"

"My hand?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, hand," she pointed at Alfred's right hand.

With some caution, the ex-future-royal pushed out his hand for the blonde's slender fingers to snatch. She proceeded to examine it all over. She felt up his arm, over his knuckles, completely ravaging it.

Then she stopped. "You hold sword lots," she commented.

Alfred nodded. He practiced often. It used to be for battles—to protect Spades—to protect his Kingdom—and to protect Arthur. But now...he wasn't so sure.

"You used to work the plow?"

Alfred's eyes widened. How on Deck did the woman know that? It had been years since he's touched a farming instrument!

"You must be strong. Young age to do the farm."

Alfred only nodded.

"Why here are you, Farmer boy?"

So called "farmer boy" couldn't think of what to say. Because he ran away? Because he was leaving behind bad memories? He shrugged.

The blonde woman tutted her tongue. "You scared, brave soldier?"

Alfred cocked his head, confused at the change of names. The woman chuckled, sounding far older than she looked. "You are farm boy and soldier boy. One builds things up, other tears things down. You strong, that is for the sure. But you also weak." The woman touched Alfred's forehead with one hand, and slipped the other over his heart. "You very different on inside. Farmer boy and soldier boy do not know who is real. The past and future are hurting. What are you, boy?"

Alfred felt frozen in the wooden seat of the cabin's kitchen. He wished he didn't eat that cake earlier. "I...I'm...I don't know!"

The woman nodded. "Sad how many people do not know who they are. Do not be of the worry, boy. Tonight you sleep, and tomorrow you go over and someone help you remember who you were."

This time when the woman tugged at Alfred's arm, it was forceful. She pulled him through the very small cabin and to a bed. "Sleep because travel tomorrow."

Alfred was too stunned to do much arguing. Had the woman made sense, he would have been up all night thinking.

But he was tired and full, and he only wanted to disappear from the world for only a moment.

Then he was being shaken awake before his head even settled on the pillow. He was still bleary-eyed when his shirt was ripped off and a fresh one was shoved on. He was handed a bag and a note. Then he was pushed out the door. "Gilbert tell me that note lead you! I can not read it, but best of the luck to you!"

The woman shouted, and then snapped the door shut.

Miraculously, Alfred found himself in front of his horse, who was freshly brushed and saddled, and even had the smell of oats on him. How he had neglected his horse, he wasn't sure.

But years would go by, and no matter how hard he tried to remember, the Cabin in the woods at the edge of diamonds seemed to be forever a mystery.

…

It was time for Arthur to see. He was terrified. He wanted to put it off for as long as possible, but he knew he couldn't.

"You will do fine, mon ami," Francis tried assuring him. It was hard to hear him over the roar of a demanding crowd and the chaos of the castle. The guards were having trouble restraining everyone. Queen Arthur ducked his head as the made their speedy way down the previously deserted hall. "My present does not seem too bright, Francis. I can't imagine my future any better."

Jack Yao swung open the fancy door that Alfred used to guard, and let Arthur in. "Just touch your clock, I'll be right behind you. Francis, stay out here. Persuade anyone you have to not to go in."

Francis nodded, and the door was snapped shut.

Ticking was the only sound that could be heard now. Soft, frantic, loud and measured, they reverberated through the room like a mantra of time flowing through Arthur's fingers. He was quick to approach the Queen's clock. It suddenly looked so large and intimidating. The hands tocked wildly, having not yet released their secret. Arthur cast a single glance to Alfred's pocket watch, ticking just as chaotically as the castle was. That was all Arthur needed to reach out and touch the glass.

Everything was dark and missing. There was absolutely nothing, and Arthur felt the air being sucked from his lungs. Then there was a harsh tug, and Arthur was flying through nothing at all. Going nowhere and everywhere all at once. Then it warmed, and Arthur slammed onto a flowerbed. It should have hurt...but it didn't.

Arthur looked around. He heard voices floating through the air like melodies. There was a soft spring breeze, flowers dancing around. And there, in the middle of it all, was himself.

Only, it wasn't himself. He was taller, it looked like his crown fit a bit more snugly. His muscles were more defined. His robes were gaunt-y and over-flowing with power and money.

But he was kissing Alfred. Passionately. They were in the midst of a garden in their best robes, looking so old (Oh, Alfred looked so very big!) snogging each other's brains out.

Alfred pulled away. "Are...you ready for this?" He asked the old Arthur. The old Arthur nodded, and kneaded his fingers further into Alfred's hair. "Of course I am, Love. With you, I'm ready for anything. I'm even breaking the rules for you."

Alfred laughed. "No! The groom isn't supposed to see the bride in her wedding dress. Last time I checked, neither of us are bride's, and we're both not wearing dresses."

Arthur merely laughed and pulled Alfred closer.

Then the scene blurred, and Arthur felt like he was being thrown backwards. Now it was night, and he was on a battle-torn hill. It looked a good time after the battle, but it was still ugly. The grass was dry if it was there at all, and a small cabin on the edge of it all smoked in the heap of what it once was. "...on this day, let it be known that Spades has been disbanded..." Alfred was saying. He had tears pouring down his cheeks, but he was smiling. He held the purple Spaden flag over a roaring fire. "For the best of us all, long lived Spades." With the final cringe-worthy past tense, Alfred, with the very crown of Spades atop his head, dropped the flag into the fire.

Arthur took notice of the others around the fire. There was King Francis, looking like he could barely stand. Blood oozed from his side and his eyes looked defeated. Vash was no where in sight, and neither was Lily. King Ludwig and Queen Kiku stood side-by-side, war torn and weary. But they seemed happy, and Jack Feli kept "Veee"-ing. King Ivan was completely unreadable, but beside him, the witch Elizabeta was crying tears of joy.

Arthur wasn't sure who to strangle first. Alfred, or the wretched girl who took Alfred away.

But the image faded before he could see much more. And suddenly it was black again, and Arthur was on the floor of the clock room.

"ALFRED!" He yelled. "TRAITOR!"

Hello everyone! Here, have a cliff hanger. A mystery that shall not be uncovered for a very long time. However, feel free to make guesses in the reviews! I'll always reply!

The pretty blonde woman who lived in the cabin was Belgium, if you were wondering.

Hope you enjoyed!

Sorry for any mistakes, I'm American!

-Mallory