"Fratello?" Feliciano's voice broke through his troubled thoughts.

"What?" Lovino slipped the saddle off Mint's back and set it on its rack.

"Um..."

"Out with it, Feliciano," he snapped. Mint stamped her foot and shifted uneasily. She could feel his restless energy and was growing nervous. He quickly patted his neck and led her into to the stall where her black gelding friend whinnied happily over the fence between them.

"Uh," Feliciano struggled for words, "What happened?"

"Take this inside to Arthur." Lovino shoved Arthur's purse into Feliciano's hands, ignoring his question. "And gather the clothes. They're in a basket in our room."

"Why don't you give this to Arthur? He'll want to see you."

He picked up the bag of all their purchases, took out one bar of soap, and gave the rest to Feliciano. "Take this too and put it in the kitchen. Once you do that, come back here with the clothes."

"But Arthur—"

"Tell him I'm busy with Mint. Do not mention anything about our trip. Do you understand?" He didn't want Arthur to worry, and Lovino also didn't want to be interrogated. "Just, please, do me this favor."

"Oaky...but you shouldn't lie to Arthur. He's going to see eventually."

"Do you think I like lying to him? Because I don't. I don't want him to see until the swelling has gone down." Lovino had taken hits to the face before, from even stronger men with objects harder than a mere fist, but he knew it must look bad from the way Feliciano's eyes lingers on his face. "Now go."

Feliciano looked like he would protest, but, thankfully, just bowed his hand and walked out. Lovino sighed and ran his fingers over his swollen cheek, wincing at the slight pressure, and pressed harder. Weak bastard, this won't due when they call you back into service. They wouldn't want someone weak killing off their bastard children and jealous mistresses. Who am I kidding? If they haven't called me into duty now, they probably never will.

A frustrated growl rumbled in his chest, and he clutched a hand over his heart. Grandpa had said their employers would call on him one day, after he was long dead, but that hadn't happened yet. Grandpa had said the Church would always need someone like them to clean up their messes, and he would never be out of work, but look at him now. The Church might as well as forgotten about them, yet Lovino still wondered if he would get a letter out of nowhere one day, calling him for some 'service' to the Church. Though it was a house of God, the Church let itself be clothed in sin and scandal and the Vargas family was the silent blade that kept its secrets in the dark.

He shook his head and watched his brother disappear into the house. Another sigh blew past his lips and Lovino stared at the gray sky, banishing his angered thoughts to the sky. It was cold, and he knew the water in the stream would be freezing. If he wasn't going out of his way to avoid Arthur, Lovino would go in and get the big cauldron to warm water in. He growled to himself and started down the hill towards the manor. If he was lucky, he would get in and with out Arthur seeing him (Then again, when had Lovino ever been lucky?).

Lovino slipped in through the kitchen door and glanced around. He didn't see anyone, but that didn't stop him from being cautious. With the stealth of a cat, he opened the closet that held all the big pots and carefully dug out the cauldron without bumping it against the other pots. Just as he was about to make a clean get away, Arthur stepped into the room.

"Lovino?"

"Uh, hello." He half turned, keeping his injured cheek away from Arthur.

"Feliciano said you were still putting up Mint. Did the trip go well? Feliciano seemed a bit nervous when he was talking about it." Arthur drew closer, and he slowly inched towards the door.

"It was fine. We got many things. Thank you for letting us use your money," Lovino said stiffly.

"You're welcome." He could hear suspicion growing in Arthur's voice. Having only heard Lovino thank him under extreme circumstance, Arthur knew something wasn't right. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm going to go do laundry with Feliciano, see you later." Lovino tried to hurry through the door, but the big pot inhibited his speed, and Arthur caught his arm before he made it out. Arthur only held it to stop him from walking away and didn't force him to turn.

"Would you like me to go with you?"

"No, unless you just want to watch us work in the cold while you sit on your ass." He really wished Arthur would just let him go. It was getting harder to evade the inevitable.

"I can help if you want."

"No, we can do it."

Arthur was silent, but didn't release his hold on his arm. He couldn't pull away either, that would make Arthur even more suspicious. Suddenly, before Lovino could try to stop him, Arthur whirled him around to face him fully.

"Who did this?" Arthur's eyes darkened with anger, fixed on his cheek.

Shit. Lovino forced himself to smile. "Don't made such a scary face. Now we match," he said, trying to make a joke out of it. He reached up and brushed his fingers under Arthur's bruised eye. The cauldron pressed against his legs as Arthur took a step closer.

"This isn't funny, Lovino. What happened?" Green eyes bored into his, concern and anger swirling in their cool depths. He couldn't bare to face Arthur when he looked at him like that.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

"That's not what I asked." Arthur frowned and skimmed his fingers over his swollen cheek, his observant eyes not missing his smallest action of flinching at the light touch.

"I need to go, Feliciano is waiting." Lovino tried to pull away, but Arthur gripped his arm.

"I'm not letting you go until you explain yourself."

"A little fight. It is nothing. The other guy got it way worse than me," Lovino lied, knowing he didn't sound convincing and wasn't trying to be.

"I don't appreciate being lied to! I thought you had stopped doing that. Can't you trust me enough to at least tell me what happened?"

He looked away, unable to face Arthur's searching eyes. The words stayed lumped in his throat, refusing to move. "I...We needed soap."

"What does that have to with it?"

"The cheapest soap is sold at the butcher shop. You remember that man...? The one that tried to...in the alley." Lovino bit the inside of his cheek, letting his bangs fall forward and hid his eyes. "He tried to touch me again. I cut him and he hit me. I'm oaky," he said before Arthur could ask. "Don't go trying to beat his ass, I'm fine this time."

"You knew you were going to see him," Arthur said slowly. When he nodded, the only thing that gave away Arthur's anger was the tightening of his grip on Lovino's arms. "And you didn't let me go with you."

Again, Lovino nodded.

"Why? Why would you do that when I'm here—when I can protect you?"

"Do you think I need your protection? I'm not a fucking woman," he snapped, jerking away from Arthur. The blond was lucky his arms were weighted down by the cauldron and unable to move, or he might have hit Arthur. "I take care of myself. I always have."

"Yes, and getting a beating from a would-be rapist shows perfectly how well you can take care of yourself," Arthur growled, his green eyes narrowed and glittered with cold fury.

"It's your fault! You made me soft. This fucking comfort life is making me like you and Feliciano!"

Arthur had the nerve to look confused by his accusation. "What do you mean?"

"You're making me weak, that's what I mean! Goddamnit, I blame you for this," Lovino growled, feeling the beginning of a headache grip his mind. "This life you're trying to give me... It's not for me."

"I don't understand. Would you rather live on the streets?"

"No! I love being here...with you, but...I was not meant for this type of life." He felt vulnerable under Arthur's unyielding eyes, everything laid out for this man to see. Lovino didn't want that, but he couldn't stop himself from being drawn closer to Arthur. He'd grown up learning ways to protect himself, steel himself against emotions that might make him flatter in a time of danger, yet they did nothing to keep him steady around Arthur. He needed to do something before things got too dangerous. As much as he wanted to betray everything he knew to be with Arthur, Lovino knew it would be the end of him if he continued to let Arthur closer to his heart, but he needed to figure out how deep his feelings for Arthur already went before he did anything.

"Nevermind, Feliciano is waiting."Lovino turned away.

"Wait!" Arthur reached out to grab his arm again, but Lovino stumbled out the door before he could, walking away awkwardly with the pot.

...

Arthur watched in frustration as Lovino fled from him. He didn't know what to do, how to comfort the stubborn man. Lovino's emotions seemed on a constantly twisted and strained, and everything was a trigger for an angry outburst. He wouldn't understand why Lovino was so conflicted and scared. The Italian seemed to have deep feelings for him, yet he was so terrified of allowing them to show. Perhaps the idea of love frightened Lovino as much as it thrilled him.

He growled and ran a hand through his hair. Arthur stalked off for the Library. It was obvious to him, there was things he and Lovino needed to talk about, that is if he could corner the Italian before he ran off again. If Francis was here, he might try to get some advice, but that git just had to go off with his enemy. The bastard. Never here when he wanted him, but always there when he didn't.

The blond sat at his favorite seat by the window and began to brood like he always did when he didn't understand something. What was Lovino doing with such a high-class knife? He knew Lovino once came from a wealthy family, the knife was just an example of that, and he suspected the V on the blade was the first letter of a family name. Any number of reasons came up to explain Lovino's attachment to it, but why would he still keep it if it could have saved his brother from illness? He didn't know of anything more important to Lovino than his brother.

Then a frightening thought entered his mind: What if Lovino's enemies weren't as non-existent as he believed? That would mean someone had come after the brothers before and Lovino was forced to protect himself and Feliciano from danger, perhaps even death. But it made no sense for whoever to still be after the brothers...unless Lovino was ex-royalty with claim to some powerful throne. That would have changed the playing field considerable and explained Lovino's constant distrust and fear of loving him. Perhaps it was fear of how being with another man would affect his standing if he ever returned to the blue-blood life, but Lovino couldn't be that shallow. Arthur had thought he wouldn't have to worry about society looking over his shoulder with Lovino, but perhaps he was wrong.

"Veh, Arthur. Why do you look like you're thinking so hard?" Feliciano hovered in front of him, shifting from foot to foot. "You'll get wrinkles that way."

"I suppose you're right, but I can't help it. I need to think to find answers." He patted the cushion next to him and Feliciano quickly sat next to him. The younger brother was still a bit flighty around him when they were alone.

"What are you trying to find answers to?"

"Your brother mostly. You don't happen to be part of some royal family, right?" After Arthur asked, he realized how ridiculous he sounded. Lovino couldn't possibly be royalty, his disinterest in common tact and manners is too inadequate for one of that high up on society's social latter. Then again, who knows what years on the street could do to a person of royalty.

"Royalty?" Feliciano laughed. "No, we have no connection to the royal family. What made you think that we were?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just trying to figure something out, but it's not important."

"I met a prince at a party once, though. He thought I was a girl and taught me some funny dances." The brunet laughed in delight, leaning back and his hands fluttered in his lap, but Feliciano's easy smile disappeared behind a cloud of sadness. "He was found dead in his room later that night. Grandpa told me he died in his sleep and Lovino said he felt no pain. I remember that, because I cried so much. He really a very kind man."

"Where did he come from, and why did Lovino know he felt no pain?"

"Hm," Feliciano pursed his lips. "India. He'd been exiled from his country. And I don't know why Lovino knew, but he seemed sure."

He frowned. "What killed him?"

"Poison. Grandpa said people from his country were mad at him and he made many people in Italia nervous. I don't get why they killed him though. He was just so nice!"

"That's the way politics usually go. It's a pity he died. What was your family's social standing?"

"Veh," Feliciano frowned uncharacteristically. "I don't know. Grandpa and Lovino never told me anything, but we went to a lot fun parties. People always gave me sweets and told me how cute I was."

"I'm sure you were adorable." He chuckled. "Where was Lovino?"

"Um, he stayed next to Grandpa. He glared at people when they weren't looking, but acted friendly when Grandpa was introducing him to a duke or a countess." Feliciano clasped his hands in his lap and crossed his legs. "I don't remember that well. It seems life times ago that my world was full of luxury and grandeur."

"Do you miss it?"

"Yes, but only for Grandpa. I would trade all the money and wealth for just one more day with my grandfather. Just to say goodbye and tell him how much I love him...I wish my family was whole again."

Arthur placed his hand on Feliciano's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Feliciano just shook his head and smiled. "Even if Grandpa wasn't dead, we'd still be a broken family. For some reason, Lovino hated Grandpa. He won't tell me why, but Grandpa did something—maybe more than one thing—to hurt him very badly. There's so many things Lovino won't tell me about him and Grandpa, about the night he found Grandpa killed, about all the things he keeps hidden in his heart."

"Wait, Lovino found your grandfather dead?"

"Yes."

"That must have been traumatizing..." Arthur sat back and imagined a younger version of Lovino screaming and crying by the body of some man.

"Actually, he handled it very calmly. I never saw him cry for Grandpa, although, back then, I couldn't see far past my own tears." The little Italian stared at him with glassy eyes.

"I am sorry, Feliciano."

Again, Feliciano shook his head.

He sighed. Apparently, he couldn't say anything right around the two brothers. "Aren't you suppose to be helping Lovino?"

"Lovino made me come back inside. He said it was too cold and I might get sick again, but I know he just wanted to be alone." Feliciano stared at his hands.

"It's probably my fault he's like that."

"Don't blame yourself," Feliciano said with a smile, "Fratello is always like that when he's upset."

"Alright. Can you tell me something, Feliciano?"

"Sure!"

"Is Lovino truly happy here...with me? You understand him better than I do."

"We haven't had a home in a very long time. For years, the thing that sheltered us was a drafty, abandoned barn. I think he is very happy with the new home. As for with you, Lovino is just scared. Things have not been easy, nor have people been kind. Lovino has never cared for someone as he cares for you, that I know." Feliciano smiled warmly. "Please, be patient and Fratello will figure things out. Lovino thinks too much and confuses himself, but he'll eventually follow his heart when he realizes his mind can't decide matters of love."

"I can understand that, but I just have so many questions." Arthur ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fine, I will wait."

Feliciano laughed. "You truly love my brother."

"Of course, I do," he said, somewhat embarrassed.

"Like my Grandpa always use to say: Patience is always rewarded." Feliciano stood and took his drawing supplies from where they sat on his large, oak desk.

They stayed in the library mostly, Feliciano only left to bring him a bowl of soup for lunch, but other than that, Arthur never left the library. He wandered the numerous shelves looking for something to help him understand Italians, but he searched in vain. In the end, he simply watched Feliciano draw an exquisitely detailed portrait of Lovino. It was simple drawing, but Lovino's expression took his breath away. It held an air of true happiness he'd never seen in the real Lovino. When he asked if Feliciano had ever seen Lovino look that way. The little brother smiled and replied with, "If he had, it was never around me." As a gift, Feliciano gave him the portrait, under the terms he would one day make his brother smile like that someday. Arthur only promised to keep it as something to aspire to, but that seemed to be enough for Feliciano.

Just before the sun dipped under the horizon, they heard Lovino call them to dinner. The meal was silent and tense, and Lovino stared at him throughout it, as if contemplating some complicated problem and the solution was on his face. It unnerved him, but, by the end of the dinner, Lovino seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion.

"Come on, Feliciano. Time for bed." Lovino stood and put their plates in the sink. "Goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight," Feliciano said cheerfully and latched on to his brother's arm. "See you in the morning."

"Sleep well." Arthur watched the brothers leave and went around blowing out candles. Darkness fell on the house and he made his way through the dark to his room. As he passed the rooms the brothers slept in, he thought back to the first night they came to live with him and the soft lullaby that broke through the dark of that silent night.

But no sweet song drifted from the brothers' room tonight and Arthur continued to the next door. His room was black and cold, no fire or candles burning to bring any warmth to the bedroom. Arthur sighed, and wished he had remember to light a fire in his hearth after nearly tripped over a stool as he wandered blindly for the bed.

Moonlight filtered through the window and a shadow detached itself from the dark, stepping into the dim light provided by the window. "Lovino?"

The figure stood silently in his room, his body only a shadow in the dark and his face undistinguished. He heard the soft wisp of clothing falling to the ground and Lovino stepped closer, pressing his warm, naked body against his.

"W...What?" Arthur tried to speak, but Lovino pulled him into a slow, heated kiss.

"There's something I need to figure out." Lovino's soft voice fell like velvet on his ears and the man began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Are..." Lovino silenced him again with a kissed. The order was clear: He was not to talk. Arthur slid his hands over Lovino's slim body, mapping out everything by touch. In the deep darkness, his fingers brushed over a rough, puckered area of skin over Lovino's heart. His trained hands were familiar with scars and the texture of this one troubled him. The wound, whatever the cause had been, was made to heal badly.

"Don't," Lovino whispered in the darkness, gripping his hand and sliding it away from the scar. The Italian kissed him again, and led him to the bed.

That's what Arthur gets for thinking too much, completely outrageous ideas. Poor Feliciano in the next room, I hope he sleeps well, if you know what I mean.

-Windy