Antonio sighs as he walks around the old citadel, seeing what its become. He pointedly ignores the charred corpses of the Viper soldiers, even as their own men work to give the dead a proper burial. He let's his mind wander as his feet carry him to places once well known.
Almost as if by instinct, he finds himself standing before a small stone house, carved into the cliff near the back ring of the city.
He sighs again, before giving a weak chuckle.
"Ahh, of course I'd come here..."
It's unusual for him to feel so melancholy, but coming back here was bound to stir up old feelings.
He let's out a sad breath as he pushes the half broken door open, an looks around at the mess with a growing sense of loss.
The house is small, with only a front room and a smaller back one.
What was once a cosy home —a central hearth ringed by cushion seats and a scattering of cooking equipment, an old bed in the corner with two smaller ones crammed into the back room, and the most beautiful pottery Antonio had ever seen filling ever nock and cranny— is now a dusty, run down and abused building, taken advantage of by the Viper and his men.
A crunch beneath his foot makes Antonio pause, and looking down his heart sinks even more.
Pieces of clay, smashed to the ground without a second thought, the beauty ruined.
He's caught between leaving and hopelessly looking around for anything that might have survived, but he knows, no matter how much he looks, what was once here is long gone.
Just as he's turning to leave, a familiar shape catches his eye. Half buried under a broken chair, and covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt, is an old portrait.
Carefully, he pulls it free and uses his hand to dust it off, smiling longingly at the image that greets him.
It's a simple portrait really, just two young boy's and an elderly man watching over them as they play. Softly, Toni runs his hand over the image of the older boy, over the grumpy frown trying to hide a bright smile.
Reaching behind his tunic, he pulls up the old locket he always keeps around his neck. With one soft press, it opens, revealing an image of the same boy, this time truly smiling.
That same smile, which once brought him such happiness, now only reminds him of all that he's lost.
26 years ago...
"...98...99...100! Ready or not, here I come!" Smiling wide, Antonio turned from the wall to start running down the street.
Colourful mosaic paths spread out beneath him as he ran, running around corner after corner, and past gardens and over waterways, nothing was going to stop him in his search.
Wet footprints catch his eye, and he grins wider, following them to a pile of crates by the bakers house. He pauses for effect, acting as if he doesn't know, and can't here the hushed laughter, before pulling the lid off the crate.
"Found you~" He sings, twirling on bare feet in glee.
"Awww." The two girls whine, climbing out.
Laughing the carefree way only a child can, Toni dashes off, back on the search.
It's by the water well he finds Maria next, and he finds Feliciano hiding by the guard station after that, hoping that the soldiers would hide him.
"Found you~ found yooou~"
"Ve~ I was sure that would work." Feli cries, but Toni pays him no mind, he still has one last target to find.
Running off once more, he criss crosses over the whole citadel, down every alley, around every bend, all the best hiding places he knows, but nothing.
Frowning, he spins, looking all around, trying to think where Lovi might have gone.
It's then that he hit's upon an idea.
"The cliffs!"
His father had told him about some old caves in them, maybe that's where Lovi is.
So, without telling anyone, he dashes off, scrambling up the rocks, looking for where the caves are. It's a long climb for a six year old, but uncaring of the height, or the danger, he continues on, until finally he pulls himself into a cave, hidden from view by the over hangs.
"Ohh, Looooviiii! I'm coming to fiiiiind yoooou!"
He giggles as he wanders in, but soon finds the light cut off, and it becomes too dark to see.
"Loooooviiiii! Come out, come out, wherever you aaaaaare!"
His voice echoing back is the only answer.
Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance at seemingly being ignored, he stomps further into the tunnel, fumbling around the the dark.
Now in complete darkness, and utterly lost he cries, "Looooviiii! This isn't fun anymore! I give up okay? Now come out!"
He's about ready to drop to the ground and cry, when a cheeky voice sings back, "Ha! I win~" and out of the dark he feels a hand punch his shoulder.
"Waah! Looooviiii!" Jumping in shock, Toni latches onto Lovino like his life depends on it.
"Hey! Get off!"
"Nooo, then you might disappear again~"
It's while their messing about that a familiar shout rings out through the tunnel.
"Prince, where are you?!"
Lovino sighs, but Tino smiles, happy that the guards have found them.
"I'm here!" He calls back, holding tight to Lovi so he can't run off, "I found Lovi!"
"Wha! Hey, no fair, you gave up!"
"Mmh, but I still found you~"
The tunnel soon fills with light, and the guards appear to take them back.
Once more, Antonio finds himself sighing at the old memory.
"Ahh, that was not long before then..." he murmurs, before standing and turning his back on the past once more.
Matthew is worried.
It's been three days, and yet, neither Al or his wolf have shown any sign of waking up.
The Healer has done all they can, but even they can't figure out why the pair won't wake, and it's driving Matt crazy.
It's times like these he feels so utterly useless. Just like he was when the fighting started.
He's not a fighter, he's never trained for battle like his brother or Gil, or Liz or Toni...
The Bookworm... That's what Sadık called him, and he hates that he was right.
Ever since he was a kid, he's been surrounded by books. While Al trained, he sat reading. When his brother came back covered in bruises and scratches, he came back with dusty tomes and meaningless proverbs.
He was never the strong one, never the one to be relied upon, that was always Al. He was just the younger brother, the other half to be protected...
...Until he wasn't.
Until the day their Dad suddenly died, or, rather, was killed...
Until he inherited the journals, until he cracked their code, found out the secrets of their father, of everything...
And suddenly, he wasn't the useless younger brother he had thought he was.
He was the older one, switched to protect him, to protect Al. And he was trusted. Their Dad trusted him, believed in him. That he was the only one who could uncover what he had left behind. And he realised how wrong he'd been, all this time.
He wasn't just some shadow to Al, he was the other half all along. Two sides of the same coin, the brains to his brother's brawn.
He'd cried then, both for their father and for thinking so little of himself.
It was then, in the dark corner of the library, hidden away with all the journals that he made a vow, to never think so little of himself again. He is the older twin, it's down to him to look after Al, not the other way around.
He gained a new drive then, putting all his efforts into finding out everything he can about the Order. He sought out old magics, spells difficult to master, but powerful if used right. Because even if he couldn't fight, he could still protect his brother in other ways.
But then... it all went wrong...
Suddenly Al was dragged back to the palace, a patrol gone wrong they said. He had tried to see him, but the guards wouldn't let him through.
Next thing he knows, Al is sentenced to exile, and it feels like his world is collapsing all around him all over again. They're all each other's got left, and he'd be damned if he just sits back and let's this happen.
He was ready to grab his brother and run for the hills if they had to.
But then, just as he was about to make his move, Gil found him.
"Let me go! He's my brother!" Matt cries, struggling against the albino Commander's hold.
"Listen to me! There's more to this than you know."
That had been a real struggle, letting Al go.
For two years, he worried constantly, and updates from Sadık were few and far between. Gil assured him he'd be safe, but that didn't stop him lying awake at night, wondering how his brother was.
Two years was bad enough, but had Gil's plan still been going, he wouldn't have seen Al again for another four.
Six years, to build an army, to let Al develop his powers in the safety and solitude of his exile, to take down the Order. All derailed now...
Back then, he had been so naïve, thinking that he could take the Order on all by himself. But Gilbert knew, he could see the future, or more specifically, the most likely version of it and then effect it by changing events.
He had been so angry, learning that it was Gil who made Al get exiled.
But then he calmed, and then he understood.
From then on, he took on a new role; Tactician.
Funnily enough, by being the Book Keeper's apprentice, he had access to all that he needed. He put all his energy into learning everything he could, mastering battle plans, and scouring the archives for anything and everything that might give them an upper hand.
And the Book Keeper's untimely death just so happened to be after the old man found Matt snooping about siege tunnels that might exist under the Capital. And it just so happened that the old man died before he could bring any of these concerns to the King, leaving the way open for Matthew to be promoted to Master Williams, official Book Keeper.
But even that was a reminder...
After Al was exiled, Matthew had to change his last name to their mothers, to show that he held no loyalty to his exiled twin, and to gain the trust of the court.
He sighs, looking over his sleeping twin.
Even after all this time they've been reunited, he still feels like there's an invisible wall between them.
They used to laugh and cry and steal cookies together. They never kept secrets. They knew everything about each other.
Now...
He doesn't even know what Al is thinking anymore.
"I'm sorry Al..." He murmurs with tears in his eyes as he holds his brother's hand, crumpling where he sits to silently cry over his twin.
Elizabeta groans, quickly growing impatient.
"He's still sleeping? Just how long does that boy plan on napping?"
Across the room, Gilbert shrugs, "Who knows. He did just die, remember? Cut the kid some slack."
"That was three days ago. He should be fine by now, surely." She huffs, watching the albino as he raids through the draws of a desk.
"Yeah, but, he also did that weird magic thing too. Who knows what that took out of him. Aha!" Grinning triumphantly, he waves his find, rum, in the air, "From what I remember, he should only just be able to do basic stuff right now, nothing fancy."
Liz makes a face as she watches the man uncork the half empty bottle and give it a sniff, "Urgh, really? Your not actually going to drink that are you?"
"What? It's still good." As if to prove his point, Gil takes a swig before continuing, "Anyway, it's not like we're in a rush or something. Take it easy for a bit, let your hair down for once."
As he says this, Gil rounds the desk to lean back on it, grinning mischievously at Liz as he takes a second, longer swig of the rum, grimacing at the burn.
Frowning, Elizabeta stomps across the small room, "We can't take it easy," she snaps, snatching the bottle out of Gil's hand, "Word of the Blood Vipers death has surely spread by now." She glares pointedly at him, before turning to pace as she worries, "We've taken out the forces here, but what about the rest? Viper men are spread out all across this region, and without their leader, there's no telling what they might do. The best case scenario is that the all disband and leave the region to us. Or factions could develop, and some might come after us for revenge, or even worse, another leader could rise up and band them together, or—"
"Liz, Liz, Liz," Gilbert chuckles, gently taking hold of her wrists to halt her movements and turn her to face him, "You really worry too much, you know that? Take a breath, pause, and think about it." He smiles sweetly at her, sliding his hand down into her free one, "We've got this. The people here have been living under the oppressive rule of the Viper for years, they'll be happy that he's dead. Men joined him out of fear, not loyalty, not like they do for you."
"But-" She tries to argue, but Gil stops her.
"Relax, we've won for now. So just chill." Gently, Gil takes the rum bottle out of her hand and takes another swig before holding it out to her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
Liz stares unsure for a moment, before giving in and taking the bottle, tossing her head back and taking a massive gulp.
"Ahh, Okay. One night." She stresses while Gil grins.
Alfred is... well he's not sure what he is.
All around him is an endless white void, but he doesn't feel cold, so he knows it's not snow. Looking down, he can't see any sort of ground, but he can feel like he's standing on...something at least, maybe.
Cautiously, he walks forward, but it doesn't feel like he's going anywhere.
"Hello?"
Even his voice sounds both loud and silent, near and far. Nothing feels real, and yet he doesn't think he's dreaming either.
Suddenly, or maybe slowly, the endless white shifts, and wisps rise up before him, distorting the image of the blank world. Like smoke, or mist they shift, swirling and gathering, and gradually a shapeless form begins to appear.
"H-Hello?" He tries asking again, because it seems like the right thing to do.
The form doesn't answer, only shifting, like ripples on a lake.
"Um, what, what is this place?" Again, the only response is the waves of motion that pass through the white distortion.
It takes a moment before Al realises that the motion is in time with his voice.
He steps forward, but get no closer to the form, but some sixth sense tells him of a presence behind him.
Spinning, he finds another, larger, distortion behind him, one that was not there before, or maybe it's always been there.
"What's going on here?" He wonders out loud, because the endless silence is starting to get to him.
The second form doesn't ripple with his voice like the first, and for some reason that's more unnerving to Al than not.
"Answer me!" He cries, looking between the forms, watching the smaller ripple violently with his shout and the larger remain unchanging.
After an eternity, or maybe only a moment, the white of the world shrinks and fades, swallowed up by darkness, only lit by the strange shimmer of the distortions, who, now in total darkness, Al slowly begins to notice are emitted light. The smaller, a gentle blue, familiar and welcoming, and the larger a deep violet and hostile feeling, but somewhat recognisable sensation.
The blue form seems to call to him, and Al turns his back on the other, reaching out to the familiar, when a voice floats into his mind.
...So you would turn away for me..?
"Who's there?" Al cries out, spinning to look for the source of the sound, but finding nothing but the second distortion.
...would you really make him choose..?
A second voice sounds, but Al can neither tell if they are man or woman, nor where they are coming from as he looks around wildly in the dark.
...he is but a boy...
...and yet he is what has been made...
"Hey! Who are you, where are you? Where am I?"
...you are cruel indeed...
...I am not the one who weaved the threads...
...very well...
"Hey! Wha-" Al starts to demand, but stops short when suddenly the two distortions shift and their light becomes blinding.
He's forced to shield his eyes from the light as the forms spiral and grow, closing in on him, their tendrils reaching out to brush his skin.
"Aaaarggghhh!" He screams in pain as it's like fire, a burning poison beneath the surface, filling every fibre of his being with endless agony.
He crumples to the nonexistent ground, folding in on himself in a feeble attempt to get away from the all encompassing pain.
...shall you burn or shine..?
The voice asks, before the pain becomes too much and Alfred loses his sense of everything.
'Arthur!'
Turning from his lookout post, the young wolf is met with the sight of his older brother, panting from the run up the steep hillside no doubt.
'Alistair? What's wrong?'
'Come, now.' His brother doesn't elaborate, only turning to run back down the hillside.
Curious, he follows.
A harsh wind is blowing in from the east, a sign of winter approaching, so most of their pack should be on the lookout for anything to hunt, like he was. But oddly Alistair leads him to the great den, where the heads of their pack are gathered, all with serious expressions.
As he follows his brother in, Arthur lowers his head submissively, in a sign of respect as he passes, before stopping at the lowest point of the inner cavern, the position a decree of his own status within the pack.
Carefully, he makes sure to keep his head down and not to look any of the elders in the eye, only flicking his gaze up occasionally to see what they are doing.
But one thing is clear, they all have disapproving looks as they stare him down, especially his father, the leader of their pack, looks down on him as Alistair moves to sit by the elders side.
In that moment, a horrible sinking feeling of dread grips him, and he knows what this is about.
'Father I-' He starts, but is silenced by the deep, sharp growl of the elder.
'Bring her.' The wolf demands, and Arthur is forced to watch as his other brothers drag a scruffy and beaten female in before them.
She's tossed unceremoniously into the centre, and the poor girl looks around fearfully, before catching Arthur's eye and looking at him pleadingly, but she knows better than to get up, keeping herself low to the ground.
Arthur gives her an apologetic look for what has been done to her.
Her once pristine white fur marked with light grey swirls, is now matted and clumped with dirt and her own blood. And her deep blue eyes, once filled with love, now only hold fear.
Above them, his father growls angrily, 'You have disgraced our clan.'
'Father-'
'We have rules Arthur! We keep to our own, you stay within our boarders.' The elders one good eye narrows as he steps forward, using his paw to stand on the females head, pushing it harshly into the cold ground, and she, for her part, desperately tries not to whimper, 'You do not fraternise with the Frelin clan, especially not one of their whore outcasts!' He barks, pushing down on the girls head.
'She is not a whore!' Arthur shouts back, defiantly raising his head to meet his father's fierce gaze.
'How dare you raise your head to me.' The elder wolf growls, and all the others gathered, growl in disapproval at the blatant show of disrespect.
He knows it's a bad move to go against his father like this, but he's already gone this far, and there's no way he's backing down now.
'Marianneis not a whore.' He repeats defiantly, not looking away.
Heartlessly, his father lifts his paw to kick her, forcing Marianneto roll over and expose her belly and separating her back legs to show to all gathered, 'And yet you have laden her with your seed.'
He harshly kicks her again, as if she wasn't even worth being beneath his feet, and growls in disgust.
Unable to watch this anymore, Arthur lunges forward, 'Stop that!' But he's stopped by his brother's grabbing him with their teeth and forcing him down to the ground.
His father lords his presence over him, casting a long shadow and forcing Arthur to squint up at him, 'No son of mine should be seen with such a low ranking female as this.' He growls, lowering his head dangerously over his rebellious son, 'And for her own crime of allowing you to mate with her, she has been kicked from her own clan. She is a whore and an outcast. So tell me, just what do you expect me to do about this? We are the mighty Kalra clan, we do not take in strays and whores.'
Under the harsh glare of his father and the painful bites of his brother's, Arthur looks down, not out of respect, but to meet the searching and fearful gaze of Marianne, 'I do not know. But I won't leave her to the wilds, she is mine.' He flicks his gaze back up to stare at his father, 'She is mine.'
His father narrows his eye, 'You foolish boy, one day, you will learn.'
When Arthur awoke, it was to find Alfred asleep by his side, the twin slumped over in sleep next to him, and loud, slurred, singing coming from down the hall.
Sadly, he regards Alfred.
Marianne was his, she, and their son was his pack. But then he lost them, all of them.
Now, Alfred is his pack.
Upon his life, he swears, he won't make the same mistake, he won't lose Al.
He can't, not again.
Pulling the sleeping blonde into his paws, Arthur breathes in his scent and sighs, 'Never...Again...'
Authors notes: I return! Sunburnt as all hell, but damn it was worth it.
Kind of plot this chapter, if you know where to look, also flashbacks! Cause who doesn't love a good flashback or two?
But yes, this story does have past Fruk, but with fem France who is a wolf, who is also dead, probably, so... I did kind of hint at it in chapter 12, but, you can probably guess who they had as a pup, who is also probably dead...
On a lighter note, for any PruHun shippers out there, this extra scene is for you.
After a day of reminiscing, Antonio was ready to just crash and go to sleep for another blissful night, but on his way to the bedrooms of the building they had decided to make camp in, he is distracted by the most Gods awful singing he's ever had the misfortune of hearing.
His curiosity temporarily out weighing his tiredness, he follows the sound and stops at a half open door to peek inside.
He stares for only a minute, before quickly going to find Matthew.
"Matt, wake up." He whispers hurriedly, shaking the sleeping teen.
"Hmmmh?" Matthew groans at being disturbed.
"Wake up, come on, you'll want to see this."
"Huh?" The blonde asks sleepily, "See what?"
"Quick, before they pass out."
"Eh?"
Confused, he tiredly gets up to follow Antonio as he snickers through the halls, slowly realising he can here horrible singing.
Stopping back at the same doorway, Toni grins, snickering, "See?"
Peering through, Matt can't help but laugh too.
Inside the room, both Gilbert and Elizabeta, drunk off their asses, are singing an old war song as they dance in circles around each other in the tiny space.
"Oohhh, anddd the flaaames will falllll!" Gil belts out, slurring horribly and way out of tune and Liz giggles uncontrollably.
"And the deeeeeaaad will knoooooow!" She joins in, spinning three times on the spot and somehow not falling over as she raises the rum bottle up over her head.
Gil cackles as he grabs her hands, kicking their legs out between each other, "Wheeeeen waaaar shalllll coooomeeee!"
"We shall drink the ruuuuum!"
They giggle, but in the tiny space and all the clutter on the floor, it was surprising that they only just now trip and fall, landing in a tangled heap, passed out before they even hit the ground.
"...I'm going back to bed." Matt yawns, shaking his head.
R & R people.
Until next time, stay awesome!