“Heh…I guess this isn’t so bad,” Arthur murmurs, bowing his head against Alfred’s and closing his eyes. “If I have to die anywhere –” He gulps down a breath; it’s getting hard to breathe, “ – it’s all right if I’m with you.”
Arthur closes his eyes and waits for the world to end.
“Arthur.”
Arthur’s eyes flutter open; he sees a small hand held out to him in the darkness.
“Ariel…?” Arthur asks. But it isn’t, he knows it isn’t. Ariel doesn’t have that feminine a voice, and his hand is much smaller than this one. And his skin might be pale, but he can’t see through it –”
“Arthur, it’s time for us to go home.”
Arthur’s eyes widen; he recognizes the voice. He lifts a trembling hand and stretches it out. The entire figure solidifies for a split second; he sees it for the last few seconds he’s awake.
“Virginia,” he whispers.
Then Arthur blacks out. ___
“Arthur!”
Kiku shouts, one last time, and then gives into wheezing. He looks around wildly and discovers that he’s in the same area he was before; the area where Arthur and he walked into Croatoan.
This was where it all started.
Kiku jolts as something flashes in the forest, shining bright for just a moment before fading. It comes from the close hem of trees in the distance.
Kiku ignores Francis and Matthew and runs toward it. For some reason, he feels that if he does not find them here, it will be finished, and he won’t have the hope to search anywhere else –
Kiku pushes through the trees and stumbles into – a clearing.
He remains in this world. He blinks rapidly, adjusting, and looks down.
Arthur and Alfred are curled together on the forest floor. Alfred’s wearing his familiar bomber jacket and jeans, the cloak gone; Arthur has his nose nestled in Alfred’s hair, his arms wrapped around the other’s shoulders as if to shield him from the world.
“Arthur,” Kiku murmurs, bowing down to shake Arthur’s shoulder. He is gentle, so as not to wake Alfred; something tells him that waking the other right now would not be a good idea.
“Mmmnnn.” Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again. “…Kiku…?”
“Arthur,” he murmurs, breaking into a happy smile.
“Is this….”
“Yes. You’re back, Arthur.”
Arthur grins, chuckling a little. “I did it,” he murmurs.
“Kiku!”
“Kiku, would you wait up -”
Matthew and Francis break into the clearing, ready to shout something else. They see Arthur – and more importantly, the precious cargo he’s cradling – and they’re struck dumb.
The silence rings in Kiku’s ears. Arthur tightens his grip around Alfred’s shoulders.
“…Well,” says Arthur, keeping his voice quiet and even. “Good afternoon, gentlemen, I just –”
“ALFRED!”
Matthew darts forward, ignoring Arthur and pulling Alfred out of his grasp. “Alfred, Alfred, where have you been –”
Alfred’s eyes snap open and he screams. He flails in Matthew’s grip; Kiku winces as a knee comes up and hits Matthew in the gut.
“Matthew!” Arthur reacts instantly, pushing Matthew away and wrapping his arms around Alfred. “You’re going to get hurt!”
Matthew stumbles back, coughing; Francis reaches out with an arm and pulls him back. “I – I…Alfred….” Matthew looks hurt.
“Arthur, what is going on?” Francis asks.
“It’s a long story. I need you to go get security here – someone, anyone. Alfred needs help.” Nobody moves for a moment. “Go!”
They all jump at that and scramble to obey. Kiku is right behind Matthew and Francis, and he looks over his shoulder one last time.
Alfred is curled up on Arthur’s lap. A swift pang of pity cleaves Kiku’s heart at the pitiful sight, at tall, strong Alfred curled up and babbling as Arthur pets his hair and croons nonsense at him to calm him down.
He frowns as he starts running again.
Arthur and Alfred may be safe. But this isn’t over yet.
IX.
The phone rings once, twice. Arthur picks it up on the third ring. “Hello, Jones residence, Arthur speaking.”
“Ah…Arthur.”
Arthur feels himself tense. “Hello, Kiku.”
“Is Jones-san there?”
“Yes, but he’s asleep right now.” And in no condition to talk, anyway, Arthur thinks, but bites his tongue and stirs sugar into his tea.
*worships* Oh writer-non. You RULE. You rule like King Arthur who was named for Arthur ruled Arthur. England. I loved that part, by the way, of his being the namesake BUT not the king, and HE didn't throw the sheathe away. And may I say that I love, love, love the image of Alfred all curled up and babbling to Arthur, and that there WERE side-effects, a lasting effect, from his year as Caliban, and Matthew's running to his brother, and OH, writer-non, I love you.
The fact that Arthur didn't throw the sheath away saved his life, most likely. Arthurian legend has it that as long as one has the scabbard, their wounds won't bleed, and they'll heal.
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Re: Croatoan [69]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-21 10:27 pm (UTC)(link)Arthur closes his eyes and waits for the world to end.
“Arthur.”
Arthur’s eyes flutter open; he sees a small hand held out to him in the darkness.
“Ariel…?” Arthur asks. But it isn’t, he knows it isn’t. Ariel doesn’t have that feminine a voice, and his hand is much smaller than this one. And his skin might be pale, but he can’t see through it –”
“Arthur, it’s time for us to go home.”
Arthur’s eyes widen; he recognizes the voice. He lifts a trembling hand and stretches it out. The entire figure solidifies for a split second; he sees it for the last few seconds he’s awake.
“Virginia,” he whispers.
Then Arthur blacks out.
___
“Arthur!”
Kiku shouts, one last time, and then gives into wheezing. He looks around wildly and discovers that he’s in the same area he was before; the area where Arthur and he walked into Croatoan.
This was where it all started.
Kiku jolts as something flashes in the forest, shining bright for just a moment before fading. It comes from the close hem of trees in the distance.
Kiku ignores Francis and Matthew and runs toward it. For some reason, he feels that if he does not find them here, it will be finished, and he won’t have the hope to search anywhere else –
Kiku pushes through the trees and stumbles into – a clearing.
He remains in this world. He blinks rapidly, adjusting, and looks down.
Arthur and Alfred are curled together on the forest floor. Alfred’s wearing his familiar bomber jacket and jeans, the cloak gone; Arthur has his nose nestled in Alfred’s hair, his arms wrapped around the other’s shoulders as if to shield him from the world.
“Arthur,” Kiku murmurs, bowing down to shake Arthur’s shoulder. He is gentle, so as not to wake Alfred; something tells him that waking the other right now would not be a good idea.
“Mmmnnn.” Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again. “…Kiku…?”
“Arthur,” he murmurs, breaking into a happy smile.
“Is this….”
“Yes. You’re back, Arthur.”
Arthur grins, chuckling a little. “I did it,” he murmurs.
“Kiku!”
“Kiku, would you wait up -”
Matthew and Francis break into the clearing, ready to shout something else. They see Arthur – and more importantly, the precious cargo he’s cradling – and they’re struck dumb.
The silence rings in Kiku’s ears. Arthur tightens his grip around Alfred’s shoulders.
“…Well,” says Arthur, keeping his voice quiet and even. “Good afternoon, gentlemen, I just –”
“ALFRED!”
Matthew darts forward, ignoring Arthur and pulling Alfred out of his grasp. “Alfred, Alfred, where have you been –”
Alfred’s eyes snap open and he screams. He flails in Matthew’s grip; Kiku winces as a knee comes up and hits Matthew in the gut.
“Matthew!” Arthur reacts instantly, pushing Matthew away and wrapping his arms around Alfred. “You’re going to get hurt!”
Matthew stumbles back, coughing; Francis reaches out with an arm and pulls him back. “I – I…Alfred….” Matthew looks hurt.
“Arthur, what is going on?” Francis asks.
“It’s a long story. I need you to go get security here – someone, anyone. Alfred needs help.” Nobody moves for a moment. “Go!”
They all jump at that and scramble to obey. Kiku is right behind Matthew and Francis, and he looks over his shoulder one last time.
Alfred is curled up on Arthur’s lap. A swift pang of pity cleaves Kiku’s heart at the pitiful sight, at tall, strong Alfred curled up and babbling as Arthur pets his hair and croons nonsense at him to calm him down.
He frowns as he starts running again.
Arthur and Alfred may be safe. But this isn’t over yet.
IX.
The phone rings once, twice. Arthur picks it up on the third ring. “Hello, Jones residence, Arthur speaking.”
“Ah…Arthur.”
Arthur feels himself tense. “Hello, Kiku.”
“Is Jones-san there?”
“Yes, but he’s asleep right now.” And in no condition to talk, anyway, Arthur thinks, but bites his tongue and stirs sugar into his tea.
Re: Croatoan [69]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-21 10:35 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Croatoan [69]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-21 11:00 pm (UTC)(link)I'm very glad that you are enjoying this.