Arthur tilted his head back to rest against the wall, sighing loudly as if to expel his soul in one breath.
Alfred had no idea what to say. He tentatively reached out and tied to rub the blood from Arthur’s face but it only ended up smearing into a grizzly red stain.
“You used to be really kind, you know?”
He could hold himself back no longer. Alfred flung his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. If his back could shield all the bad things from touching Arthur, he would have gladly stayed like that forever. Briefly, he wondered if he was some sort of fool for clinging on to hope even now, like a desperate beggar he grabbed at whatever gleams of light flashed before his eyes.
“Arthur, I’m not – I’m not going to let you - ” he squeezed even tighter, hardly caring that Arthur was not hugging back or if Feliciano was looking at him, at how pathetic he had become. He was a hero and he would go to any lengths to save someone, to save Athur, even if – even if he had to become the villain in doing so. “I won’ t let you go the way you’re going. I’m not going to let you become like – like this!”
“They’re not going to leave me alone,” Arthur said; a cold statement of facts.
“We’ll get them! Every last one of them!” he cried.
Arthur stiffened. Though Alfred was unable to see his face, he could sense the sudden shift in demeanour. “...Yes, I suppose we’ll have to do that,” Arthur whispered, lightly touching the small of Alfred’s back.
XX
Despite tightening security, everyone was walking on eggshells the next morning. The remaining pirates had been transferred to a proper prison, leaving the manor even emptier. They held a funeral for Marianne. Alfred took it upon himself to notify her family, sending a bouquet of yellow roses with the condolence card.
That day, it did not even rain when they carried out the coffin. Marianne’s parents wanted her buried in Maine where she had grown up but they held their own service for her anyway. Kiku gave her some of his cranes and Feliciano made a chain of daisies; Alfred could see how he trembled and clung onto Ludwig’s arm as if everyone around him would disappear if he did not hold fast. Even Francis, who remained completely calm throughout the grim affair, indulged himself in a little more wine than usual as soon as the coffin was borne away.
Only Arthur remained missing from the ceremony. Yao could not say how much the event affected him but, although he was up and walking by now, he continued to hole himself up in the manor, living his life either in the white room or in the much unused study of Alfred’s manor. His attitude remained cold and distant even to his fellow nations. He was never rude but always curt, giving no more than two or three word answers at best.
Alfred caught him sitting in the study, the lights set to a minimum, hunched over a thick tome of...something; the books in there were mostly for show and Alfred had no clue about the names of half the books in his own study.
Creeping in, he sidled towards Arthur who, as expected, paid him no mind.
“Hey Arthur! Want to...watch a movie or something?” he asked. It was a bad suggestion but he had no idea what else to say, he just wanted to do something, anything that would bring Arthur back to life even for just a second. He would even eat a million burnt scones for one, quick smile or a flustered blush.
However, Arthur paid his presence only the smallest amount of recognition, just enough to reply “...No thank you,” before promptly forgetting about him until Alfred spoke again.
“Well, how about going outside for some fresh air?” he suggested.
“I’m fine,” Arthur replied laconically, eyes rooted to the same page he had been reading for the last two hours.
“Come on, don’t be so boring! Let’s do something!” Alfred tugged at his sleeve impatiently. It was not that he thought what he had dubbed 'the Feliciano effect' would work but he had never tried to be so obstinately cheerful before and one should always try new approaches.
“London,” Arthur muttered under his breath, snapping the book shut.
“Huh?”
Arthur frowned at him for being dense. “I want to go back to London. What happened to it after I was...” he trailed away. Neither of them really wished to recall those unpleasant memories.
“...Arthur!” Alfred breathed, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. Arthur wanted to go back to London. That meant that he was worried. That meant that, surely, deep down he was still the same old Arthur! “That’s great! It would be a good idea to move now that they know where we are. I’ll talk to the others and make preparations immediately!” he cried enthusiastically.
“Thank you,” Arthur gave him the tiniest of smiles.
There really was a God after all!
“N - no problem!” Alfred cried, grinning from ear to ear. Arthur was smiling, Arthur had thanked him! Just seeing that made him feel as though he could do anything, could probably walk on top of a rainbow; he was feeling so giddy with happiness.
Alfred rushed out to tell the news to the others, failing to see that Arthur’s smile was edged with malice.
When Alfred brought up the subject of moving to England, they all agreed that it would be a good idea to relocate. Now that the enemy knew where they were, it was best to move as soon as possible and in England at least they could stay in one of Arthur’s homes where he would probably feel more comfortable. It could be therapeutic, Yao admitted.
They had not gauged just what kind of impact Arthur’s captivity and injuries had made on society. They all knew that England had been going through a bad period before hand but now it was going through a greater dip in economy, recent floods and snowstorms had battered the country and, worst of all, there had been a riot at the ports which had gotten out of control and the white cliffs of Dover had turned red for a few days.
When he saw the banners over London and the crowds of angry protesters being held back by police in riot gear, Alfred began to regret ever coming to the country. This was no place for Arthur to recover.
“Unemployment has risen to dangerous levels, aru,” Yao answered his silent question. “And inflation is forever going up. They want the prime minister to step down. They say the government is incompetent, aru.”
“I am thinking we shouldn’t have come here perhaps,” Ludwig murmured, glancing out of the tinted windows of the car.
“This is what Arthur wanted, right?” Alfred looked hopefully at Arthur, who made no reply.
XX
He was grateful when they reached Arthur’s house in London. It was remote enough that, as long as he did not glance at the newspapers or turned on the television, Alfred could almost pretend that nothing had ever happened.
Arthur moved through the halls like a ghost, flitting from one room to another without an intent or purpose Alfred could gleam, which was why, when he noticed Arthur pulling on his coat a few days after their arrival, he was more than a little shocked.
“Arthur? Where are you going?” he asked, trying to conceal his worry. Since they had recovered him, he had become nothing short of a recluse, a hikkikomori Kiku would have said, only Alfred was not sure if that was quite correct. Arthur pent himself up inside anyplace with four walls and would not step out.
“To Buckingham,” he replied as if this were obvious.
“What? Why?”
Arthur’s cool, hard gaze bore into the depths of his soul. It was as if he was telling him not to interfere. “I was missing for quite some time. I should report to the royal family,” he explained. Surprisingly, it sounded quite reasonable.
Alfred was not sure whether to be happy that Arthur was going out and that he was going to see people, humans, or to be even more concerned that he would snap whilst outside. “That’s good but shouldn’t you talk to the prime minister first? He’s the one who’s technically in charge.”
Arthur shook his head. “No, I’ll go to the palace first.”
“You sure like your royalty,” Alfred laughed, “I’ll come with you.”
“No, I’ll go alone,” Arthur insisted.
“But - ”
“I’ll go alone,” Arthur looked at him with what Alfred would not quite describe as a glare but was not exactly the most welcoming of looks either. Well, Arthur had become such a loner these days, always so tetchy about keeping his own company, that Alfred found himself surrendering.
“Oh, that reminds me, Yao got a good look at that woman and Ludwig’s tracking down her roots. It won’t be too long before we get to the bottom of all of this!” he said, hoping to lighten Arthur’s foul mood.
The news did not seem to excite Arthur as much as it did Alfred. Then again, nothing seemed to excite Arthur these days. Nothing could make him laugh or get angry; that smile he had given Alfred back in America had been a rare occasion.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, adjusting the collar of his coat. “Even if you don’t do anything I’m sure it will sort itself out.”
Alfred let him walk out of the door.
Things will continue to get more messed up from here. Anon apologises for the lack of comfort in this hurt/comfort fic.
No sooner was he gone than he felt a sigh escape him. He should have been firmer, he reckoned, but he did not want to chase Arthur outside just to be handed another defeat.
“I’m too soft with him,” he muttered disapprovingly just as Kiku joined him at the main door.
“Alfred, we’re all meeting in the conference room.”
“Coming,” he sighed, his thoughts still on Arthur and scones and the first signs of real hope as he trailed towards the room.
What they had dubbed the conference room was just Arthur’s dining room. It was large enough to hold about twenty guests, something which rarely occurred since the end of the Victorian era but was useful nonetheless in times such as this.
Kiku had laced the perimeter with insulated wires, setting up a dozen computer terminals and other funny looking screens as if the dining room were now the headquarters for an international hacking operation.
Alfred carefully stepped over the wires as he made his way to where the rest were leaning over one of the terminals. No doubt it was a health hazard, not that he could complain about the state of other people’s rooms.
Ludwig looked at the empty spaces behind him, frowning. “Where’s Arthur?”
“Ah, he went to report to the royal family!” Alfred replied enthusiastically, hoping to share some of his hope with the others.
“And you let him go alone?” Francis, who had not been taken in by the screen, sat at the other end of the table.
Alfred resented the critical look he was being given. It was not as if he was ever neglectful of Arthur and besides cooking meals, which he did for everyone, Francis had stayed at a respectful distance from Arthur. His previous attempts to insult him and thus coax out the old Arthur had been met with solid nothingness.
“It’ll be okay, right? I mean, he decided to drive and there are guards all over the palace.”
“...Yes, I’m sure it will be fine.”
“So what’s up?” Alfred asked, wilfully ignoring the traces of hesitation in Kiku’s polite response.
As if suddenly reminded of why they were there, everyone turned back to the screen, “I managed to place a name to the face that Yao saw,” Ludwig began to explain. He clicked once, bringing up a file. “Look at this; she worked for MI6 and had a pretty good record until five months ago when she decided to resign. For ‘personal and family reasons’ it states. After that she practically dropped off of the face of the earth. There are no more records of her anywhere.”
“So we can assume that was when she joined the pirates, but why? She didn’t hold high enough a rank to be told about Arthur’s secret during her work so how did she find out?” Kiku wondered.
“Perhaps she went sneaking through classified files.”
“Maybe,” Kiku conceded but looked unconvinced.
“Before that she was often summoned to the palace, aru. She was a good worker and received many honours for her work. She even met with the queen a few times. Someone there could have told her, aru,” Yao tried to pin a reason on their mystery as Ludwig began scrolling through the file again.
“If someone there told her, why would they attack their own country? Surely they would ‘experiment’ with another nation. Assuming that they weren’t working with another country’s organisation or just a free-rover that is,” he murmured, eyes fixed on lines upon lines of typeset in front of him.
They were all silent for a moment, pondering what this new-found information was trying to tell them. For Alfred himself, his thoughts were mixed with worries regarding Arthur’s welfare. Maybe he really should have insisted on going with him...
“Mon Dieu!” Francis suddenly slapped a hand against his face, startling all of them out of their silence
“What?” Alfred asked, feeling his heart begin to race with the same anxiety he had felt when his home had been infiltrated.
“Whatever their motive is, mon ami, it’s someone in a relatively high position of power pulling the strings, non?”
Alfred stared at him blankly.
Francis sighed in exasperation, wondering just how anyone could be so dense. “Arthur went to Buckingham! Mon Dieu, don’t you know that place is crawling with high-flyers!”
“What?” Alfred asked, feeling his heart begin to race with the same anxiety he had felt when his home had been infiltrated.
“Whatever their motive is, mon ami, it’s someone in a relatively high position of power pulling the strings, non?”
Alfred stared at him blankly.
Francis sighed in exasperation, wondering just how anyone could be so dense. “Arthur went to Buckingham! Mon Dieu, don’t you know that place is crawling with high-flyers!”
those last few lines made my heart race too author anon!
Getting past the hordes of protesters outside the gates had initially been a challenge but now that he was on palace grounds Arthur passed through with laughable ease. Everyone knew who he was. Or at least knew that he was important enough not to be delayed by security checks. They let him in easily, giving him access to the private areas without a word of protest.
On his way through the richly furnished halls, he managed to stop a maid, halting her amidst her cleaning duties.
“The queen is in, right? Tell him that Arthur Kirkland wishes to have an audience with her,” he said, sparing no thought of being polite or smiling.
The maid hesitated. She had no idea who this man was but she had often seen him with many important officials. “Uh...I will inform Her Majesty,” she curtsied and scurried off.
It was all so easy. So amazingly easily Arthur would have laughed but for the fact that his laughter had seemed stopped in his throat ever since his capture.
It took no time at all for the maid to come running back. There was a newfound obeisance in her manner as she bowed even lower. “Right this way please,” she led him to the throne room.
Without the usual gaggle of people to fill up the space, the throne room seemed larger and colder than Arthur remembered. The maid left him alone in the middle of it, facing the queen who sat on the throne in black, idly turning a decorative sword over and over in her hands.
Footsteps made hollow echoes against the hard floor. As Arthur approached, she left the sword on her lap, resting her hands above it, one on top of the other.
“I was expecting you,” she smiled, sitting erect.
“Your Highness,” Arthur performed an extravagant sweeping bow in deference to her. He lifted his head to gauge her reaction and mockingly smirked to see her smiling politely.
“I heard about what happened. I trust you are unharmed.”
“I have recovered enough,” he shrugged, straightening.
The queen clapped gloved hands together, the points of her fingers meeting in an arch that reminded him of an upside down victory. “That is truly wonderful to hear! You really are amazing, dear Arthur!”
The sound of that old, tender nickname made him wince. Fortunately, he did not think his reaction was visible enough for the queen to notice.
“Not at all. Your Highness is far more wonderful,” he bowed again. Years of watching Spenser fishing for Queen Elizabeth’s patronage had taught him how to give the most flattering lip service.
“And I am so glad that you favour old traditions. Queen Elizabeth was a wise woman to use pirates to do the dirty work,” he lifted himself up, no longer bothering to hide his contempt. “But Queen Elizabeth was far more wonderful than you, old hag!”
Arthur’s expression of thinly veiled courtesy turned into disdain. For all the lack of emotion he had shown since his capture, his eyes now came alive with rage.
The queen, he was disappointed to see, remained unprovoked where others would have taken to the hills already.
“You are angry,” she swallowed up his insults in a wave of calmness, “but I too am doing what is best. Can you blame me, Arthur dear?”
XX
Notes:
Spenser: Refers to Edmund Spenser whose epic, unfinished poem The Faerie Queene is in praise of Queen Elizabeth...among other things.
Picturing the actual Queen of England being cunning and deceitful gives me the luls so feel free to imagine some fictitious AU queen. I know I am.
Arthur opened his mouth but did not know what to say. It had hurt, it hurt even remembering it now, that one of the few people he trusted, one he never thought would turn on him had deemed him disposable. It was the ultimate kick in the teeth. The humiliation was unbearable but the painful ache it had caused was far more potent than the burn of shame.
He struggled to hold back his anger and surprise. This was not the reply he had been expecting, he was almost resentful of her for not saying what he had thought she would. “But I am - ”
“These are sad times,” she interrupted him.
“Is your Majesty only a fair-weather friend?” he spat bitterly.
“The crown and the country go together hand in hand.”
“Then why - ”
“Do you remember – I suppose you do not,” the queen cut through him again. Arthur’s hands curled into trembling fists. “It was a few years ago and you have more than a few centuries worth of memories. However, maybe I can jolt something by reminding you about that time we met again in Hertfordshire.”
“I remember,” he replied automatically. His memory was not so bad that he could not remember what happened a few measly years ago.
“Then do you also remember what I asked you?”
“You asked me many things, Your Highness,” he replied curtly, his patience was wearing him and he had no idea what one thing had to do with the other.
The queen laughed derisively. Arthur noted with a wry smile that she still politely covered her mouth with her hand even when she was trying to be insulting. “I asked you, between the prime minister and I, if we both gave you contradictory orders who would you obey?” she reminded him.
“I said the prime minister. Even though you’re royalty the prime minister is technically my boss. You are...”
“Just a figure head,” she finished for him. “The crown and country go together hand in hand but you; it was you Arthur who betrayed me first.”
Arthur was not sure whether to burst into a fit of hysterics or throw something at her in anger. “That’s...” he struggled between the two, “I didn’t do any such thing! You expect me to – to believe that that was punishment for this so called ‘betrayal’? Are you that petty?” he cried, unable to wrap his head around her way of thinking.
“Punishment?” she laughed. “Of course not! However, it opened my eyes. I knew, finally, that between the two powers, you would not choose my side.”
Her eyes swept over the room, empty but for the two of them. Tilting her head to the side, she seemed pensive, almost wistful. Her hair was beginning to turn silver and her face wrinkle with age.
It was like a stab to the heart. Arthur remembered buying silk and velvet to drape over the throne in a mock re-enactment of the old Tudors, remembered childish shrieks of ‘off with her head!’ filling the room as he watched her, once a child, running through the halls. He crushed those memories and let them drift away on the air.
“There could be a revolt,” she murmured. Arthur remembered the hoards of protesters blocking his way in.
“Before that happens, it is my wish to start afresh, to be able to lead this nation, to succeed where this current government has failed. I want a restored and complete monarchy,” her smile turned bitter. “If you are not with me, dear Arthur, you are against me.”
A new wave of anger surged far enough to overcome foolish sentimentality. “I – I am the country, old hag!” he snarled with renewed strength. “If you are not with me, you are against me?! I should say the same to you! A queen going against her country, what a sick joke!”
“You are misinterpreting things,” she replied calmly. “You, who have all that bitter bloodstained past, must also be wiped clean if we are to start anew. We should give rise to a new England, a better one. Besides, the fate of a human nation should belong in human hands, would you not agree?”
Arthur wished nothing more than to be gone. This talk was beginning to make him feel nauseous but he had to settle things here.
“...No, I don’t. The way you think is all wrong. You want to restore power to the monarchy? You just want to become a dictator!” he shouted accusations that pelted off of the queen’s impregnable composure. “I’ve seen a thousand revolutions so I know, even though they want to destroy what has come before and start completely anew there will always be the past.”
“That is why you are not needed, you who carry all that unnecessary baggage. Please do not take this personally, dear Arthur, but this is for the country we both love. Let us destroy it and rebuild it anew. I am tired of watching the government trip over the trails of their own corruption. If it were me, if I were in charge...”
The first traces of hesitation flickered across her face, but before Arthur could seize it she had smothered the feeling.
“Arthur, don’t you love this country?”
“No,” he tried to laugh but was afraid he would hurl instead. He was feeling dizzy. “Not anymore,” he said coldly.
He had to do this now, while he still had possession of his senses. He wanted to do this knowing exactly what it meant, not lost to the storms of wild passion. Reaching into his coat he drew a long kitchen knife. He never had to go through security checks otherwise he would surely have been caught in possession of such a large thing.
The queen smiled, not the least intimidated by the sudden appearance of the knife. She picked up the sword from her lap, casually reminding him that she too was armed.
Arthur grinned in retaliation, giving the blade a few test swings. It whistled as it sliced through the air.
“I chopped off Charles’ head when he got out of hand. I can do the same to you.”
“And look what happened after you did. You really do not learn from the past, do you, dear Arthur?”
Arthur grin widened. His heart was pounding. Yes, this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Yes, to see that glorious red again, just as he had on that day that stupid maid had died. This was what he wanted. He would put those stupid, arrogant humans in their place. He would show them that he – he and no one else – was their country.
He stepped forward, slowly at first, gaining momentum as he raced up the small steps toward the throne. The queen stood up sharply, drawing the blade in defence but it was in vain. Stupid human, his mind crowed victoriously. The stupid human thought she could go against him!
I do not want children who cannot play nice, Ivan had told him when he asked about Bloody Sunday. As crazy as he took him for then, he had had the right idea. He smiled at that thought, smiled as wide as he could.
Arthur swung the blade high above his head, plunging it down with such force that the air wailed.
He laughed with glee, already seeing the blood that would flow out freely. Wasn’t red the colour of kings?
Notes:
Charles: Refers to Charles I who was beheaded
'And look what happened after you did': After Charles was beheaded Cromwell became Lord Protector, which practically gave him the same absolute authority as a monarch. After his death, England restored its monarchy. The queen is suggesting that getting rid of the monarchy in the first place was pointless.
Alfred hated security checks. He had wasted a fair amount of time trying to stop those beefeaters or porkeaters or whatever they were from manhandling him. When he finally managed to locate Arthur, he raced into the throne room, throwing the door wide open.
“Arthur!”
He saw the knife gleaming, he saw the blade descending, he saw the crying, half-crazed smile on Arthur’s face, and he threw himself forward.
“St – Stop it! Please, stop it, Arthur!” he cried with as much strength as he could muster, flinging out his hand as if to catch him.
The knife’s descent froze in mid-air. Hands trembled. Alfred paused, barely daring to hope that his words had finally reached him.
Slowly, Arthur turned his head to face him, the rest of his body remaining paralysed. “...A – Alfred?” he whispered, barely believing what he was seeing. The knife fell from his hands, clattering besides the queen’s head where she had stumbled and fallen.
Sensing an opening, Alfred stepped closer, opening his arms wide as he implored him. “Don’t do this! You’ll only regret it if you do!”
“Alfred?” Arthur’s full attention was finally on him. Were those tears he could see? Arthur shook his head hopelessly. “You don’t underst - ”
Alfred halted, frozen. He thought he could see the world falling apart in front of his eyes. Arthur was no longer looking at him. He was looking at his queen. More specifically, he was looking at the blade of the sword his queen held in her hand, the blade which was buried into his side.
Arthur slowly straightened, taking one, two, three steps backward. The long blade piercing him followed. He placed trembling hands on the hilt, winced, and pulled it out, letting his blood run down the blade and onto the floor.
Alfred was sure that he needed to breathe but he could not. How could he think about breathing when the world was spinning and Arthur was – Arthur had been –
His nails pierced the palms of his hands, drawing blood, but that was nothing compared to the red stain slowly spreading across Arthur’s shirt or the blood trickling down his mouth. Arthur looked at him and, for the first time in an eternity, he gazed upon him gently. Smiling as if to say; ‘I told you so’ the sword clattered on the floor as he collapsed.
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Re: If you find me...[14a/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-16 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)Alfred had no idea what to say. He tentatively reached out and tied to rub the blood from Arthur’s face but it only ended up smearing into a grizzly red stain.
“You used to be really kind, you know?”
He could hold himself back no longer. Alfred flung his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. If his back could shield all the bad things from touching Arthur, he would have gladly stayed like that forever. Briefly, he wondered if he was some sort of fool for clinging on to hope even now, like a desperate beggar he grabbed at whatever gleams of light flashed before his eyes.
“Arthur, I’m not – I’m not going to let you - ” he squeezed even tighter, hardly caring that Arthur was not hugging back or if Feliciano was looking at him, at how pathetic he had become. He was a hero and he would go to any lengths to save someone, to save Athur, even if – even if he had to become the villain in doing so. “I won’ t let you go the way you’re going. I’m not going to let you become like – like this!”
“They’re not going to leave me alone,” Arthur said; a cold statement of facts.
“We’ll get them! Every last one of them!” he cried.
Arthur stiffened. Though Alfred was unable to see his face, he could sense the sudden shift in demeanour. “...Yes, I suppose we’ll have to do that,” Arthur whispered, lightly touching the small of Alfred’s back.
XX
Despite tightening security, everyone was walking on eggshells the next morning. The remaining pirates had been transferred to a proper prison, leaving the manor even emptier. They held a funeral for Marianne. Alfred took it upon himself to notify her family, sending a bouquet of yellow roses with the condolence card.
That day, it did not even rain when they carried out the coffin. Marianne’s parents wanted her buried in Maine where she had grown up but they held their own service for her anyway. Kiku gave her some of his cranes and Feliciano made a chain of daisies; Alfred could see how he trembled and clung onto Ludwig’s arm as if everyone around him would disappear if he did not hold fast. Even Francis, who remained completely calm throughout the grim affair, indulged himself in a little more wine than usual as soon as the coffin was borne away.
Only Arthur remained missing from the ceremony. Yao could not say how much the event affected him but, although he was up and walking by now, he continued to hole himself up in the manor, living his life either in the white room or in the much unused study of Alfred’s manor. His attitude remained cold and distant even to his fellow nations. He was never rude but always curt, giving no more than two or three word answers at best.
Alfred caught him sitting in the study, the lights set to a minimum, hunched over a thick tome of...something; the books in there were mostly for show and Alfred had no clue about the names of half the books in his own study.
Creeping in, he sidled towards Arthur who, as expected, paid him no mind.
“Hey Arthur! Want to...watch a movie or something?” he asked. It was a bad suggestion but he had no idea what else to say, he just wanted to do something, anything that would bring Arthur back to life even for just a second. He would even eat a million burnt scones for one, quick smile or a flustered blush.
Re: If you find me...[14b/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-16 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)However, Arthur paid his presence only the smallest amount of recognition, just enough to reply “...No thank you,” before promptly forgetting about him until Alfred spoke again.
“Well, how about going outside for some fresh air?” he suggested.
“I’m fine,” Arthur replied laconically, eyes rooted to the same page he had been reading for the last two hours.
“Come on, don’t be so boring! Let’s do something!” Alfred tugged at his sleeve impatiently. It was not that he thought what he had dubbed 'the Feliciano effect' would work but he had never tried to be so obstinately cheerful before and one should always try new approaches.
“London,” Arthur muttered under his breath, snapping the book shut.
“Huh?”
Arthur frowned at him for being dense. “I want to go back to London. What happened to it after I was...” he trailed away. Neither of them really wished to recall those unpleasant memories.
“...Arthur!” Alfred breathed, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. Arthur wanted to go back to London. That meant that he was worried. That meant that, surely, deep down he was still the same old Arthur! “That’s great! It would be a good idea to move now that they know where we are. I’ll talk to the others and make preparations immediately!” he cried enthusiastically.
“Thank you,” Arthur gave him the tiniest of smiles.
There really was a God after all!
“N - no problem!” Alfred cried, grinning from ear to ear. Arthur was smiling, Arthur had thanked him! Just seeing that made him feel as though he could do anything, could probably walk on top of a rainbow; he was feeling so giddy with happiness.
Alfred rushed out to tell the news to the others, failing to see that Arthur’s smile was edged with malice.
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-16 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)Alfred keep an eye on him! :[ Something isn't right.
Re: If you find me...[14b/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-16 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)This reader anon has 99.9% chance of losing her sanity
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 12:07 am (UTC)(link)Arthurrrrrrrrrrr what the hell is wrong with you!!!!!!!!!!!! Dx
*dies with anticipation*
reCaptcha: mitty brother
Re: If you find me...[14b/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 12:12 am (UTC)(link)F5F5F5F5F5F55
Re: If you find me...[14b/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 12:15 am (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[14b/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[15/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 06:12 pm (UTC)(link)When Alfred brought up the subject of moving to England, they all agreed that it would be a good idea to relocate. Now that the enemy knew where they were, it was best to move as soon as possible and in England at least they could stay in one of Arthur’s homes where he would probably feel more comfortable. It could be therapeutic, Yao admitted.
They had not gauged just what kind of impact Arthur’s captivity and injuries had made on society. They all knew that England had been going through a bad period before hand but now it was going through a greater dip in economy, recent floods and snowstorms had battered the country and, worst of all, there had been a riot at the ports which had gotten out of control and the white cliffs of Dover had turned red for a few days.
When he saw the banners over London and the crowds of angry protesters being held back by police in riot gear, Alfred began to regret ever coming to the country. This was no place for Arthur to recover.
“Unemployment has risen to dangerous levels, aru,” Yao answered his silent question. “And inflation is forever going up. They want the prime minister to step down. They say the government is incompetent, aru.”
“I am thinking we shouldn’t have come here perhaps,” Ludwig murmured, glancing out of the tinted windows of the car.
“This is what Arthur wanted, right?” Alfred looked hopefully at Arthur, who made no reply.
XX
He was grateful when they reached Arthur’s house in London. It was remote enough that, as long as he did not glance at the newspapers or turned on the television, Alfred could almost pretend that nothing had ever happened.
Arthur moved through the halls like a ghost, flitting from one room to another without an intent or purpose Alfred could gleam, which was why, when he noticed Arthur pulling on his coat a few days after their arrival, he was more than a little shocked.
“Arthur? Where are you going?” he asked, trying to conceal his worry. Since they had recovered him, he had become nothing short of a recluse, a hikkikomori Kiku would have said, only Alfred was not sure if that was quite correct. Arthur pent himself up inside anyplace with four walls and would not step out.
“To Buckingham,” he replied as if this were obvious.
“What? Why?”
Arthur’s cool, hard gaze bore into the depths of his soul. It was as if he was telling him not to interfere. “I was missing for quite some time. I should report to the royal family,” he explained. Surprisingly, it sounded quite reasonable.
Alfred was not sure whether to be happy that Arthur was going out and that he was going to see people, humans, or to be even more concerned that he would snap whilst outside. “That’s good but shouldn’t you talk to the prime minister first? He’s the one who’s technically in charge.”
Arthur shook his head. “No, I’ll go to the palace first.”
“You sure like your royalty,” Alfred laughed, “I’ll come with you.”
“No, I’ll go alone,” Arthur insisted.
“But - ”
“I’ll go alone,” Arthur looked at him with what Alfred would not quite describe as a glare but was not exactly the most welcoming of looks either. Well, Arthur had become such a loner these days, always so tetchy about keeping his own company, that Alfred found himself surrendering.
“Oh, that reminds me, Yao got a good look at that woman and Ludwig’s tracking down her roots. It won’t be too long before we get to the bottom of all of this!” he said, hoping to lighten Arthur’s foul mood.
The news did not seem to excite Arthur as much as it did Alfred. Then again, nothing seemed to excite Arthur these days. Nothing could make him laugh or get angry; that smile he had given Alfred back in America had been a rare occasion.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, adjusting the collar of his coat. “Even if you don’t do anything I’m sure it will sort itself out.”
Alfred let him walk out of the door.
Things will continue to get more messed up from here. Anon apologises for the lack of comfort in this hurt/comfort fic.
Re: If you find me...[16/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 06:29 pm (UTC)(link)“I’m too soft with him,” he muttered disapprovingly just as Kiku joined him at the main door.
“Alfred, we’re all meeting in the conference room.”
“Coming,” he sighed, his thoughts still on Arthur and scones and the first signs of real hope as he trailed towards the room.
What they had dubbed the conference room was just Arthur’s dining room. It was large enough to hold about twenty guests, something which rarely occurred since the end of the Victorian era but was useful nonetheless in times such as this.
Kiku had laced the perimeter with insulated wires, setting up a dozen computer terminals and other funny looking screens as if the dining room were now the headquarters for an international hacking operation.
Alfred carefully stepped over the wires as he made his way to where the rest were leaning over one of the terminals. No doubt it was a health hazard, not that he could complain about the state of other people’s rooms.
Ludwig looked at the empty spaces behind him, frowning. “Where’s Arthur?”
“Ah, he went to report to the royal family!” Alfred replied enthusiastically, hoping to share some of his hope with the others.
“And you let him go alone?” Francis, who had not been taken in by the screen, sat at the other end of the table.
Alfred resented the critical look he was being given. It was not as if he was ever neglectful of Arthur and besides cooking meals, which he did for everyone, Francis had stayed at a respectful distance from Arthur. His previous attempts to insult him and thus coax out the old Arthur had been met with solid nothingness.
“It’ll be okay, right? I mean, he decided to drive and there are guards all over the palace.”
“...Yes, I’m sure it will be fine.”
“So what’s up?” Alfred asked, wilfully ignoring the traces of hesitation in Kiku’s polite response.
As if suddenly reminded of why they were there, everyone turned back to the screen, “I managed to place a name to the face that Yao saw,” Ludwig began to explain. He clicked once, bringing up a file. “Look at this; she worked for MI6 and had a pretty good record until five months ago when she decided to resign. For ‘personal and family reasons’ it states. After that she practically dropped off of the face of the earth. There are no more records of her anywhere.”
“So we can assume that was when she joined the pirates, but why? She didn’t hold high enough a rank to be told about Arthur’s secret during her work so how did she find out?” Kiku wondered.
“Perhaps she went sneaking through classified files.”
“Maybe,” Kiku conceded but looked unconvinced.
“Before that she was often summoned to the palace, aru. She was a good worker and received many honours for her work. She even met with the queen a few times. Someone there could have told her, aru,” Yao tried to pin a reason on their mystery as Ludwig began scrolling through the file again.
“If someone there told her, why would they attack their own country? Surely they would ‘experiment’ with another nation. Assuming that they weren’t working with another country’s organisation or just a free-rover that is,” he murmured, eyes fixed on lines upon lines of typeset in front of him.
They were all silent for a moment, pondering what this new-found information was trying to tell them. For Alfred himself, his thoughts were mixed with worries regarding Arthur’s welfare. Maybe he really should have insisted on going with him...
“Mon Dieu!” Francis suddenly slapped a hand against his face, startling all of them out of their silence
“What?” Alfred asked, feeling his heart begin to race with the same anxiety he had felt when his home had been infiltrated.
“Whatever their motive is, mon ami, it’s someone in a relatively high position of power pulling the strings, non?”
Alfred stared at him blankly.
Francis sighed in exasperation, wondering just how anyone could be so dense. “Arthur went to Buckingham! Mon Dieu, don’t you know that place is crawling with high-flyers!”
XX
Boring speculations are boring. ^^;
Re: If you find me...[16/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)Please make it as long as you want, I can't get enough of this!!!!
F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 07:45 pm (UTC)(link)I can't wait to see what happens!!!
Re: If you find me...[16/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[16/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 09:40 am (UTC)(link)AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
Their reactions!~ France reactions!!!!!
“What?” Alfred asked, feeling his heart begin to race with the same anxiety he had felt when his home had been infiltrated.
“Whatever their motive is, mon ami, it’s someone in a relatively high position of power pulling the strings, non?”
Alfred stared at him blankly.
Francis sighed in exasperation, wondering just how anyone could be so dense. “Arthur went to Buckingham! Mon Dieu, don’t you know that place is crawling with high-flyers!”
those last few lines made my heart race too author anon!
Re: If you find me...[16/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 03:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[17/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 06:20 pm (UTC)(link)Getting past the hordes of protesters outside the gates had initially been a challenge but now that he was on palace grounds Arthur passed through with laughable ease. Everyone knew who he was. Or at least knew that he was important enough not to be delayed by security checks. They let him in easily, giving him access to the private areas without a word of protest.
On his way through the richly furnished halls, he managed to stop a maid, halting her amidst her cleaning duties.
“The queen is in, right? Tell him that Arthur Kirkland wishes to have an audience with her,” he said, sparing no thought of being polite or smiling.
The maid hesitated. She had no idea who this man was but she had often seen him with many important officials. “Uh...I will inform Her Majesty,” she curtsied and scurried off.
It was all so easy. So amazingly easily Arthur would have laughed but for the fact that his laughter had seemed stopped in his throat ever since his capture.
It took no time at all for the maid to come running back. There was a newfound obeisance in her manner as she bowed even lower. “Right this way please,” she led him to the throne room.
Without the usual gaggle of people to fill up the space, the throne room seemed larger and colder than Arthur remembered. The maid left him alone in the middle of it, facing the queen who sat on the throne in black, idly turning a decorative sword over and over in her hands.
Footsteps made hollow echoes against the hard floor. As Arthur approached, she left the sword on her lap, resting her hands above it, one on top of the other.
“I was expecting you,” she smiled, sitting erect.
“Your Highness,” Arthur performed an extravagant sweeping bow in deference to her. He lifted his head to gauge her reaction and mockingly smirked to see her smiling politely.
“I heard about what happened. I trust you are unharmed.”
“I have recovered enough,” he shrugged, straightening.
The queen clapped gloved hands together, the points of her fingers meeting in an arch that reminded him of an upside down victory. “That is truly wonderful to hear! You really are amazing, dear Arthur!”
The sound of that old, tender nickname made him wince. Fortunately, he did not think his reaction was visible enough for the queen to notice.
“Not at all. Your Highness is far more wonderful,” he bowed again. Years of watching Spenser fishing for Queen Elizabeth’s patronage had taught him how to give the most flattering lip service.
“And I am so glad that you favour old traditions. Queen Elizabeth was a wise woman to use pirates to do the dirty work,” he lifted himself up, no longer bothering to hide his contempt. “But Queen Elizabeth was far more wonderful than you, old hag!”
Arthur’s expression of thinly veiled courtesy turned into disdain. For all the lack of emotion he had shown since his capture, his eyes now came alive with rage.
The queen, he was disappointed to see, remained unprovoked where others would have taken to the hills already.
“You are angry,” she swallowed up his insults in a wave of calmness, “but I too am doing what is best. Can you blame me, Arthur dear?”
XX
Notes:
Spenser: Refers to Edmund Spenser whose epic, unfinished poem The Faerie Queene is in praise of Queen Elizabeth...among other things.
Picturing the actual Queen of England being cunning and deceitful gives me the luls so feel free to imagine some fictitious AU queen. I know I am.
Re: If you find me...[18/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)He struggled to hold back his anger and surprise. This was not the reply he had been expecting, he was almost resentful of her for not saying what he had thought she would. “But I am - ”
“These are sad times,” she interrupted him.
“Is your Majesty only a fair-weather friend?” he spat bitterly.
“The crown and the country go together hand in hand.”
“Then why - ”
“Do you remember – I suppose you do not,” the queen cut through him again. Arthur’s hands curled into trembling fists. “It was a few years ago and you have more than a few centuries worth of memories. However, maybe I can jolt something by reminding you about that time we met again in Hertfordshire.”
“I remember,” he replied automatically. His memory was not so bad that he could not remember what happened a few measly years ago.
“Then do you also remember what I asked you?”
“You asked me many things, Your Highness,” he replied curtly, his patience was wearing him and he had no idea what one thing had to do with the other.
The queen laughed derisively. Arthur noted with a wry smile that she still politely covered her mouth with her hand even when she was trying to be insulting. “I asked you, between the prime minister and I, if we both gave you contradictory orders who would you obey?” she reminded him.
“I said the prime minister. Even though you’re royalty the prime minister is technically my boss. You are...”
“Just a figure head,” she finished for him. “The crown and country go together hand in hand but you; it was you Arthur who betrayed me first.”
Arthur was not sure whether to burst into a fit of hysterics or throw something at her in anger. “That’s...” he struggled between the two, “I didn’t do any such thing! You expect me to – to believe that that was punishment for this so called ‘betrayal’? Are you that petty?” he cried, unable to wrap his head around her way of thinking.
“Punishment?” she laughed. “Of course not! However, it opened my eyes. I knew, finally, that between the two powers, you would not choose my side.”
Her eyes swept over the room, empty but for the two of them. Tilting her head to the side, she seemed pensive, almost wistful. Her hair was beginning to turn silver and her face wrinkle with age.
It was like a stab to the heart. Arthur remembered buying silk and velvet to drape over the throne in a mock re-enactment of the old Tudors, remembered childish shrieks of ‘off with her head!’ filling the room as he watched her, once a child, running through the halls. He crushed those memories and let them drift away on the air.
Re: If you find me...[18/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[18/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)POOR ARTHUR, MY GOD!!!!
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[18/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-18 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)reCaptcha: terrapin gambles
(Anonymous) 2009-05-19 03:43 am (UTC)(link)dammit author! anon your plots never cease to amaze me !!!!
Re: If you find me...[19/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-20 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)“Before that happens, it is my wish to start afresh, to be able to lead this nation, to succeed where this current government has failed. I want a restored and complete monarchy,” her smile turned bitter. “If you are not with me, dear Arthur, you are against me.”
A new wave of anger surged far enough to overcome foolish sentimentality. “I – I am the country, old hag!” he snarled with renewed strength. “If you are not with me, you are against me?! I should say the same to you! A queen going against her country, what a sick joke!”
“You are misinterpreting things,” she replied calmly. “You, who have all that bitter bloodstained past, must also be wiped clean if we are to start anew. We should give rise to a new England, a better one. Besides, the fate of a human nation should belong in human hands, would you not agree?”
Arthur wished nothing more than to be gone. This talk was beginning to make him feel nauseous but he had to settle things here.
“...No, I don’t. The way you think is all wrong. You want to restore power to the monarchy? You just want to become a dictator!” he shouted accusations that pelted off of the queen’s impregnable composure. “I’ve seen a thousand revolutions so I know, even though they want to destroy what has come before and start completely anew there will always be the past.”
“That is why you are not needed, you who carry all that unnecessary baggage. Please do not take this personally, dear Arthur, but this is for the country we both love. Let us destroy it and rebuild it anew. I am tired of watching the government trip over the trails of their own corruption. If it were me, if I were in charge...”
The first traces of hesitation flickered across her face, but before Arthur could seize it she had smothered the feeling.
“Arthur, don’t you love this country?”
“No,” he tried to laugh but was afraid he would hurl instead. He was feeling dizzy. “Not anymore,” he said coldly.
He had to do this now, while he still had possession of his senses. He wanted to do this knowing exactly what it meant, not lost to the storms of wild passion. Reaching into his coat he drew a long kitchen knife. He never had to go through security checks otherwise he would surely have been caught in possession of such a large thing.
The queen smiled, not the least intimidated by the sudden appearance of the knife. She picked up the sword from her lap, casually reminding him that she too was armed.
Arthur grinned in retaliation, giving the blade a few test swings. It whistled as it sliced through the air.
“I chopped off Charles’ head when he got out of hand. I can do the same to you.”
“And look what happened after you did. You really do not learn from the past, do you, dear Arthur?”
Arthur grin widened. His heart was pounding. Yes, this was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Yes, to see that glorious red again, just as he had on that day that stupid maid had died. This was what he wanted. He would put those stupid, arrogant humans in their place. He would show them that he – he and no one else – was their country.
He stepped forward, slowly at first, gaining momentum as he raced up the small steps toward the throne. The queen stood up sharply, drawing the blade in defence but it was in vain. Stupid human, his mind crowed victoriously. The stupid human thought she could go against him!
I do not want children who cannot play nice, Ivan had told him when he asked about Bloody Sunday. As crazy as he took him for then, he had had the right idea. He smiled at that thought, smiled as wide as he could.
Arthur swung the blade high above his head, plunging it down with such force that the air wailed.
He laughed with glee, already seeing the blood that would flow out freely. Wasn’t red the colour of kings?
Notes:
Charles: Refers to Charles I who was beheaded
'And look what happened after you did': After Charles was beheaded Cromwell became Lord Protector, which practically gave him the same absolute authority as a monarch. After his death, England restored its monarchy. The queen is suggesting that getting rid of the monarchy in the first place was pointless.
Re: If you find me...[20/28]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-20 05:37 pm (UTC)(link)Alfred hated security checks. He had wasted a fair amount of time trying to stop those beefeaters or porkeaters or whatever they were from manhandling him. When he finally managed to locate Arthur, he raced into the throne room, throwing the door wide open.
“Arthur!”
He saw the knife gleaming, he saw the blade descending, he saw the crying, half-crazed smile on Arthur’s face, and he threw himself forward.
“St – Stop it! Please, stop it, Arthur!” he cried with as much strength as he could muster, flinging out his hand as if to catch him.
The knife’s descent froze in mid-air. Hands trembled. Alfred paused, barely daring to hope that his words had finally reached him.
Slowly, Arthur turned his head to face him, the rest of his body remaining paralysed. “...A – Alfred?” he whispered, barely believing what he was seeing. The knife fell from his hands, clattering besides the queen’s head where she had stumbled and fallen.
Sensing an opening, Alfred stepped closer, opening his arms wide as he implored him. “Don’t do this! You’ll only regret it if you do!”
“Alfred?” Arthur’s full attention was finally on him. Were those tears he could see? Arthur shook his head hopelessly. “You don’t underst - ”
Alfred halted, frozen. He thought he could see the world falling apart in front of his eyes. Arthur was no longer looking at him. He was looking at his queen. More specifically, he was looking at the blade of the sword his queen held in her hand, the blade which was buried into his side.
Arthur slowly straightened, taking one, two, three steps backward. The long blade piercing him followed. He placed trembling hands on the hilt, winced, and pulled it out, letting his blood run down the blade and onto the floor.
Alfred was sure that he needed to breathe but he could not. How could he think about breathing when the world was spinning and Arthur was – Arthur had been –
His nails pierced the palms of his hands, drawing blood, but that was nothing compared to the red stain slowly spreading across Arthur’s shirt or the blood trickling down his mouth. Arthur looked at him and, for the first time in an eternity, he gazed upon him gently. Smiling as if to say; ‘I told you so’ the sword clattered on the floor as he collapsed.
Re: If you find me...[20/28]
(Anonymous) - 2009-05-20 22:23 (UTC) - ExpandReCaptcha: under hoarser
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(Anonymous) 2009-05-17 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)I will sit here and press F5 repeatedly.