Something must have happened, Matthew finally concluded while Ivan was talking about a Soyuz capsule. Even if he believed that Alfred would skirk off his duties so badly (which was surprising, honestly), he knew that Arthur wouldn’t let him. So something must have happened. What would make Alfred go charging off into the unknown? Had he gotten acid on his face and was so horribly disfigured he was waiting it out? Matthew got the mental image of Alfred as Quasimodo and smiled to himself. Really, if they were doing Hunchback of Notre Dame comparisons, Alfred was Phoebus, and Matthew was Quasi… Nope, not going to go much further on that thank you.
This had been going on far too long to be entirely comfortable, not that it ever was. Something was wrong. And Connall knew something. Matthew was going to figure out what exactly it was. But Matthew just couldn’t seem to corner him at all, and that was even more suspicious. AWOL, Alfred had said. So something military? Matthew spend Feliciano’s speech writing out Alfred’s phone message again and trying to figure out if Alfred had been trying to make some sort of code. It would be just like his brother.
End of section. Matthew then confronts Connall. Here is some written for that.
“One might’ve thought you’d be grateful for the reminder.” Connall spoke lowly, expression hard.
Matthew was about ready to tear his hair out. “No! I do not and have never wanted to be my brother!” That was only about half true, but Matthew really didn’t want to think about that right now, not when he was turning into him little by little, replacing him… “I’m Matthew! Not Alfred, not Arthur, not Francis!”
“Then who are you exactly?” Connall said harshly, making a broad sweeping gesture quickly with his hand. “What makes you so different from everybody else?”
At this Matthew opened his mouth to answer, and stopped when he found he wasn’t able to.
Connall apparently took this itself as an answer. “There, you see? The boy trusted you to take care of his people for him. You’re the best choice now that he’s not coming back –“
“What do you mean, not coming back?” Matthew said, jumping on that new fact. “What have you done with them? I know you don’t like Arthur, but—“
“No!” Connall overrode him firmly, eyes hard. “I did nothing! It was Crowe! Old Crowe!”
Matthew paused. The name tickled at the edge of his conscience, but he couldn’t remember much about it, except a vague terror that chilled him to the bone. He leaned over the other nation. “You will tell me exactly what happened, or expect that all direct investment in Ireland by both Canada and the United States to stop immediately, and for withdrawal of ambassadors.”
Connall stilled. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“Then you had best start talking, hadn’t you?” Matthew replied softly. Oh yes, he had his big stick indeed. He knew exactly what made Connall, or any nation really, tick.
Connall sighed, waved his hand, and the tension slowly ebbed out of the room. “Alright, alright, I was gonna tell ya anyways, boyo.”
“Just because I’m turning into Al doesn’t mean that’s going to work on me.” Matthew said as he sat in the loveseat, unwilling to listen to Connall’s slang at a time like this.
Connall rolled his eyes, and explained, clearly and without the slang.
By the time he was done, Matthew was barely keeping up. “So let me get this straight; this faerie named Crowe has been after your family for generations, and has stolen all of you, though you managed to escape, and now has finally gotten Arthur. During that kidnapping, he also stripped Alfred of his superstrength. Alfred went after him, but he has no magic, so you expect him to get captured and enthralled rather quickly, and therefore not come back. So why did you let him go?”
“Well, that same lack of magic does shield him from some spells and such. If the boy keeps his head, then he might be okay. Besides, he was determined to.”
Crowe END/m
This had been going on far too long to be entirely comfortable, not that it ever was. Something was wrong. And Connall knew something. Matthew was going to figure out what exactly it was. But Matthew just couldn’t seem to corner him at all, and that was even more suspicious. AWOL, Alfred had said. So something military? Matthew spend Feliciano’s speech writing out Alfred’s phone message again and trying to figure out if Alfred had been trying to make some sort of code. It would be just like his brother.
End of section. Matthew then confronts Connall. Here is some written for that.
“One might’ve thought you’d be grateful for the reminder.” Connall spoke lowly, expression hard.
Matthew was about ready to tear his hair out. “No! I do not and have never wanted to be my brother!” That was only about half true, but Matthew really didn’t want to think about that right now, not when he was turning into him little by little, replacing him… “I’m Matthew! Not Alfred, not Arthur, not Francis!”
“Then who are you exactly?” Connall said harshly, making a broad sweeping gesture quickly with his hand. “What makes you so different from everybody else?”
At this Matthew opened his mouth to answer, and stopped when he found he wasn’t able to.
Connall apparently took this itself as an answer. “There, you see? The boy trusted you to take care of his people for him. You’re the best choice now that he’s not coming back –“
“What do you mean, not coming back?” Matthew said, jumping on that new fact. “What have you done with them? I know you don’t like Arthur, but—“
“No!” Connall overrode him firmly, eyes hard. “I did nothing! It was Crowe! Old Crowe!”
Matthew paused. The name tickled at the edge of his conscience, but he couldn’t remember much about it, except a vague terror that chilled him to the bone. He leaned over the other nation. “You will tell me exactly what happened, or expect that all direct investment in Ireland by both Canada and the United States to stop immediately, and for withdrawal of ambassadors.”
Connall stilled. “I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“Then you had best start talking, hadn’t you?” Matthew replied softly. Oh yes, he had his big stick indeed. He knew exactly what made Connall, or any nation really, tick.
Connall sighed, waved his hand, and the tension slowly ebbed out of the room. “Alright, alright, I was gonna tell ya anyways, boyo.”
“Just because I’m turning into Al doesn’t mean that’s going to work on me.” Matthew said as he sat in the loveseat, unwilling to listen to Connall’s slang at a time like this.
Connall rolled his eyes, and explained, clearly and without the slang.
By the time he was done, Matthew was barely keeping up. “So let me get this straight; this faerie named Crowe has been after your family for generations, and has stolen all of you, though you managed to escape, and now has finally gotten Arthur. During that kidnapping, he also stripped Alfred of his superstrength. Alfred went after him, but he has no magic, so you expect him to get captured and enthralled rather quickly, and therefore not come back. So why did you let him go?”
“Well, that same lack of magic does shield him from some spells and such. If the boy keeps his head, then he might be okay. Besides, he was determined to.”