The tube was carefully preserved for years, hidden away, and as time passed, Ivan's civilization grew- but so did the outer world. New civilizations grew in the west: people who were reported as having a different, strange language, and this posed a threat. For as long as they could remember, the Others were alone in this world. Naturally, they grew fearful, and turned to the only solution available: choose a leader.

The decision was unanimous. Ivan was strong, kind, influential, everyone looked up to him- there was only one problem. He refused with every fiber of his existence. No one knew the reason why, not even Ivan himself: all he knew was that there was a strong urging in his soul to never, ever try and rule again.

And only one thing would tell him why.

After years, the tube was unearthed, in the dark of night, and it glowed its eerie blue once again.

—

Breakfast with royals was indeed terrifying, Arthur decided. He sat on Alfred's right, gazing wide-eyed at all the forks and spoons and is that a spork? he mused, tentatively picking it up and twirling it around in between his fingers. Alfred noticed, and smirking, he leaned over, breath ghosting against Arthur's ear as he murmured, "Struggling, sweetheart?"

Arthur grew red, and hissed back, "Just help me, bastard."

"Use the fork-spoon thingy for now."

"It's called a spork, idiot."

Luckily, Arthur persevered through that trial without too much trouble. Although, reality still hugged his shoulders, making him doubt his every step- until Alfred, at noon, guided him outside into a training ring. He shrugged off his purple coat, peeking over at Alfred, who was doing the same, revealing muscled shoulders and arms-

Arthur quickly turned back around, inwardly berating himself as Alfred started, "You ever held a sword before, blondie?"

Clenching his jaw, Arthur bristled. "No," he gritted out, glaring at Alfred as he neared, holding out a sword. It appeared light, like a beginner's sword- the second Arthur took it in his hands, he nearly dropped the heavy weapon. Struggling to keep the sword upright, Arthur grunted, "Do you have anything... lighter?"

Alfred laughed. "That's the lightest."

Arthur's cheeks glowed red, and indignantly, he snapped, "Then teach me how to use it, bastard!"

Unsheathing his own sword, Alfred pointed his weapon at Arthur. "Attack me."

"What?" Arthur spluttered. "I can't!"

"Are you a child, or a man?"

His words incensed Arthur, so, acting on his impulse, Arthur swung at him, their swords clanging shrilly in the crisp afternoon air. Alfred grinned and parried back- Arthur blocked it with as much grace as he could muster. They danced around each other for hours, it seemed, and there was something that felt familiar to Arthur as he fought with the King. Hadn't he used a sword like this before? Why else would it feel natural to wield something of this nature?

Even if he had before, Alfred was infinitely better, and could knock Arthur off his feet with one strike. He was powerful, Arthur would grant him that.

This became routine: every day, either the King or the Jack would train Arthur, and as time passed, Arthur started to adjust. Although it was hard to handle snobby royals and advisors who looked down on him, Arthur looked forward to training with Yao, who taught him how to control his electrical magic, and (to his growing horror) Alfred.

As the summer came to an end, so did the spying on Clubs, who had, as rumor predicted, marched into the Kingdom of Hearts, preparing for war just on the outskirts of the land. The King of Hearts sent a request for backup to Spades, unsure if the new King and Queen would recognize their old status of allies: with Yao's advice, they agreed to help. Arthur became accustomed to the war room at this time, watching his King in awe as he mapped out battle strategies. And even though Arthur had never participated in such planning, Alfred involved him, asked him for his opinion, and Arthur slowly started to contribute.

There was one day when, walking through the end of the garden maze, Arthur spotted someone in the training rink, swinging two swords in his hands. Tip-toeing closer, Arthur recognized Alfred, and on further glance, Arthur realized he was shirtless, his clothes hanging over the wooden fence that surrounded the area. A hot flush crept up his neck, and gulping audibly, he couldn't help but gaze.

Alfred turned suddenly, eyes catching Arthur's, and grinned. "Impressed, are we?"

Bristling, Arthur stomped into the ring, grabbing one of the swords Alfred held, trying (and failing) not to look at his bare chest. "Not at all, King," he goaded, circling around the man (and definitely not checking him out). "I was searching for all your faults."

"Ah. And did you actually find any?" Alfred shot back, eyes locked with Arthur's as he circled around.

There was the instantaneous clash of blades hitting the other in rapid succession. Arthur decided to start out on the offensive, convincing himself it would be satisfying to see the King's head roll. "Yes," he hissed as their swords pressed against each other, trying to make the other give out. "I found high levels of narcissism. You would be shocked, really."

Alfred won out, pushing Arthur backward slightly with sheer force, and jumping forward, their blades clashed once again. "It isn't narcissism if it's true," he laughed, driving Arthur into the corner, pinning him and his sword wielding hand against the fence. "I win-"

He was cut off as Arthur used the fence to his advantage, leaning backwards so he could lift his feet up off the ground and kick Alfred right in the gut. The King was cut off from his declaration of victory and effectively sent tumbling backwards, coughing and spluttering as Arthur righted himself. "Don't make assumptions," he taunted, lunging forward again. Alfred blocked his swing and countered, as Arthur tried to grit out, "It isn't true... if it's... narcissism!"

Alfred was laughing, genuinely by now, and shouted over the clash of swords, "That doesn't even make sense!"

Arthur cried out, "Of course it does!" but he was laughing just as hard as Alfred was, and reeled backward, holding his sword with one hand. Of course, Alfred took advantage of that, knocking the sword out of Arthur's hand which effectively sent Arthur to the ground on his back. He walked over to declare victory again, when Arthur's leg went swinging into his, bringing him down to the floor and knocking his breath away on contact with the dirt.

Both still laughing like idiots, Arthur tried wrestling the King to the ground, but Alfred grabbed his forearms and rolled them around. Yao, who had been reading a book nearby in peace, watched as the two rolled around in the dirt, back and forth, sure that their laughter could be heard in the top floor of the palace.

Alfred was stronger when it came to muscle, and pinned Arthur to the dirt, but just as he forced Arthur's hands above his head, the Queen shocked him with a ball of blue energy that sent him reeling backward. As Arthur jumped over him, pinning the King to the ground, Alfred shrieked and laughed at the same time, "That was a low blow!"

"I win," Arthur declared, unable to suppress the smile as he panted above Alfred, holding his shoulders down and sitting on him with a huff.

Alfred tried wiping the wetness from his eyes, still convulsing with laughter. Arthur was more or less in the same state as the king murmured, "Color me impressed."

"What? Didn't think I could win?" Arthur provoked, still hovering over Alfred.

"On the contrary," Alfred shot back, but there was no malice in his tone, and if Arthur looked any closer than he already was, he would see that Alfred's eyes were laced with unbridled affection.

—

Winter settled in, and the Kingdom of Spades geared its people for war. The journey to Hearts would take the army through the neutral Kingdom of Diamonds, and in order to avoid the main city, Arthur had cleverly advised they go through the mountains on the south side. With the heavily falling snow, their footsteps would be covered quickly, he rationalized, and they would not risk war with Diamonds.

Everything seemed in place as Alfred and Arthur prepared to set out, pulling hoods over their heads. Yao stopped them in the hallway, and like a fussing mother, gave them extra cloaks and provisions in a sack. "I promise to join you as soon as I think the advisors are fit to run the castle," he reassured, and searched both of their faces anxiously, as if trying to memorize them.

"What?" Alfred chuckled. Arthur tilted his head, echoing the King's question.

Yao looked slightly emotive as he snapped, "Nothing. Out of all the monarchs, I hate you both the most." Arthur had grown used to "Yao speak" by now. A rough translation of his words: You two are my favorite King and Queen, even though I shouldn't feel attached to you, and I hope that you will return to the castle unharmed, and that we can live our life as a happy monarchy.

Opening the huge doors, Alfred and Arthur mounted their horses, and before riding out to the front of the vast army line, Arthur glanced back at the castle. Don't fret, Yao. We'll return, and everything will return to normal.

—

Alfred and Arthur rode side by side as they started ascending the snowy mountain range, leading their horseback-riding troops into the freezing cold. Arthur winced, eyes narrowed as the wind stung his cheeks, and shivered, clutching a little tighter to his hood, when he felt something warm drape over his shoulders. Wide-eyed, he glanced over at Alfred, who had thrown one of the blankets Yao had packed them across Arthur's shoulders, but acted as if nothing had happened. Smiling to himself, Arthur tried to force his heart back down into his chest.

They eventually reached the top just as the sun began to set, casting final rays of light over the rest of the mountain range the army of Spades still had to traverse though. Arthur hadn't expected the range to be so drastically long, and felt anxious at how everyone would fare. Even though Spades' military was the strongest, the elements of the Kingdom of Diamonds could be enough to kill.

Men were instructed to hoist the tents, yellow domes that kept out the harsh wind, and though Arthur wanted to help, Alfred touched his shoulder, gently commanding, "Go ahead into our tent before you catch cold."

The side of Arthur that demanded warmth immediately took control, and Arthur nodded, slipping into the tent. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then felt guilty, because if he had still been a commoner, he would have been drafted into the army and made to pitch tents. His musing was interrupted by the King, who quickly slid in, zipping up the entrance before settling down beside Arthur. "I brought a map," he chattered, trying to warm up by blowing into his hands.

Arthur would forever blame the cold on his next move. He leaned over and took Alfred's hands in his own, rubbing them together. "I thought you were directionally challenged?"

"Eh, that's true. But you aren't. So, I decided to make you our official navigator," he stated, relaxing slightly, eyes catching Arthur's.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur huffed at the praise, "Whatever. Show me the map."

Alfred rummaged through his sack and pulled out the ripped, old thing, flattening it against the ground. "This is us," he pointed at the Kingdom of Spades, a little island on the far left of the map. "And this-" his finger dragged all the way across the paper- "is Clubs. Completely landlocked, only separated from the Kingdom of Hearts by a little river called the Oder."

Arthur tried to focus on the map, not on the proximity of Alfred's cheek to his. "And we're in Diamonds currently. Over this uncharted territory." He gestured to the region below the Kingdom of Diamonds that read 'uncharted'.

"I assumed earlier it would take us at least two days to reach Hearts."

Alfred's teeth were chattering- Arthur, trying not to be awkward, slipped the blanket from his shoulders over Alfred, looking away when Alfred's eyes focused on him. "It all depends on the weather, honestly. We're strong, and..." He tried to clear his throat without flushing, because Alfred's eyes were still on him. "...and..."

"And?" Alfred chuckled, still shivering.

Arthur turned away quickly, mumbling, "We're strong. But the elements are harsh. And I'm going to sleep." He snatched the blanket back from Alfred, berating himself that he'd even attempted to be nice to the bastard, and threw it over himself, making sure his face was buried and out of sight.

Except Alfred had different plans, and lifted the blanket, curling up next to him, their faces inches apart. Arthur reddened, reaching out to push Alfred away, but Alfred huffed, "I like this blanket. Either fight me for it or share it with me."

"You seemed all too willing to hand it out to me hours ago," Arthur bickered for bickery's sake.

"That was hours ago." Alfred smiled, and Arthur ducked his head, deciding that he was too cold to search for another blanket and it wasn't like Alfred was that close to him, anyway.

—