Goosetail - Part III, The Garden - [[USUK]]
Title: Goosetail - Part III, The Garden - [[USUK]]
Author/Artist: colonel_alqui
Character(s) or Pairing(s): America, England, America/England
Rating: R
Warnings: Language and future sexual situations.
Summary: Alfred smiled, bending his own head downward to press his lips to the closest pale cheek he found. This kiss was gentle and a bit smirking - and it caused Arthur's mind to churn at the same confusing rate as his stomach...
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Alfred drew in a sharp, strained breath, his eyes glued to the King. The man’s flowing velvet robes and crowned head of dark brown hair swayed with his weight as he exited to the left of the hall with his chosen company. And Alfred continued to stare until he vanished from sight completely.
He licked his lips and his gaze narrowed.
“… No. Whatever the bloody hell you’re thinking, no,” Arthur snapped at him, a bubble of worry beginning to brew within his stomach upon watching his date’s forehead wrinkle in thought. Terrible thoughts, no doubt.
“Aw, it’s all right, we’re just going to follow him.”
Arthur blinked, and blinked again. He took a moment in order to reassure himself that his makeup hadn’t somehow ruined his vision and deceived him into believing that he actually saw a smile on that fool’s face. No makeup damage whatsoever, that brash expression across from him was, unfortunately, very real. Fuck.
“We’re just going to follow him? You idiot, do you have any idea as to what would happen if he caught us, us with no excuse to be out there in that garden, no excuse to even be at this ball!?” he hissed, a step taken back from their rather snug dancing position. He folded his arms and went on to say, “We would be exiled or tortured or--!”
“Hey, isn’t the ‘main garden’ or whatever he said right beside that little herb plantation we were at earlier?” Alfred abruptly questioned. His voice was stronger than Arthur’s suppressed one, his effeminate tone brushed aside, and he was forced to listen… Hm? The herb plantation from earlier? What did that have to do with anything?
“Yes, it is,” he answered, the corners of his mouth twitching in annoyance. A second backward step was taken when Alfred’s glasses caught the light in an absolutely mischievous manner at the sound of his given response. This couldn’t possibly be good. And that was confirmed when he himself was snatched up like a twig and hauled along by his forearm through the dancing and chattering crowd. They were headed for the left exit of the hall.
The scheming ‘hero’ managed to explain his thinking process while they scurried along, “All right, so here it is - I remember seeing the main garden from the herb plantation, and it’s huge! Well, you should know, since you live here. Anyway, I’m sure with so many plants and statues and everything else in there, we’ll be safe! I’m sure we can find good hiding places and we can spy from there, being totally inconsistent!”
Heaving a sigh, Arthur made a retort, “First of all, the world you’re looking for is inconspicuous. However, more importantly, I still say no. This is way too dangerous! You have no idea what could happen, do you?”
If he had planned on furthering this rant, he wasn’t given the opportunity, as Alfred had soon whipped around to hold him steady by the shoulders. A small squeeze was given. He was grinning, again, and their eyes met at such an intensity that the flustered blonde was forced to look away. Though his ears perked at the following words he heard, “Miss Kirkland, please don’t worry. I’m the hero in this story, I have to take risks that might help me, it’s just how I am. My brave blood would boil if I didn’t… And now, I would really, really appreciate it if you came with me.”
Arthur’s shoulders were released and his right hand touched, an indication that Alfred hoped for him to stay close by. He did, after a quick pondering of the situation, and trotted beside him, head partially bowed and feet scuffing on the regal flooring that led to the left exit. Two guards were placed on either side of the carved oaken door that was the entrance to the main garden, their matching bladed staffs crossed over the middle of the door in a ceremonious manner. Only the gleam of their vicious gazes could be seen poking out from the helmets of their armor. Armor that was shadowed by the overhanging fixtures around the top of the door, which gave them a little extra lenience in the prospect of remaining hidden.
You better know what you’re doing, Alfred. I’m probably being an idiot here and putting more faith in you than you deserve, goddamn it…
Lost in this inner grumble for a moment, Arthur was surprised by what he saw when he glanced up. Alfred had squirmed his way in between the guards while innocently asking the whereabouts of the nearest gentleman’s room, and had stuck both hands out and upward when the armored men turned their heads. His hands located a particular area of flesh on each guard’s temporarily exposed neck, and he roughly pinched it with his thumb and pointer finger. Under the cover of the bliss and plain stupidity of the guests, the guards moaned and collapsed on the floor within a few seconds. Alfred swiftly dragged their unconscious bodies together and off to one side of the door. He then turned to his blinking blonde companion, nodded, and proceeded to undo the door’s iron latch.
... Well, all right, the task may not have been completed with some courageous sword slashes or blood-lusting punches, like the heroes in his beloved fiction novels usually did, but it was indeed done. It went quickly and unnoticed, too. He smiled softly to himself. Perhaps Alfred was a person he could have absolute confidence in. And there were certainly means to finding out: head for that garden with him.
“I see him,” Alfred whispered, using his arm, once again locked with Arthur’s, to guide them back behind a hedge, its lush greenness keeping them out of the sight of the King. He currently stood about twenty feet from them and was surrounded by the Queen and whatever other nobles he had chosen. They had taken a roundabout path to reach the hedge they were at now, and had avoided being spotted, their movements constantly at the rear, they didn’t dare attempt to walk at the same pace or in front of the King. Not even Alfred was that reckless.
“I-I see him… too. But what, whew, are we going to do?” Arthur questioned breathlessly, nearly wheezing as he gripped the chest of dress and leaned against the sturdy hedge. He gulped the night air in and fought of a gasp of surprise at how winded he was. Fuck, he should have seen this coming! The two or three glasses of champagne he drank earlier combined with all this bouncing around in tiring high heels… It made for a… He paused in his own thoughts to feel a painful lurch in the pit of his stomach… It made for a sick feeling. He was going to be sick. “Uhm…”
Alfred, who was watching the King and company with his body tense like a coiled spring, heard Arthur’s stressed sounds and glanced over to witness him fanning himself and clinging to the shrubbery for support. His brow furrowed in worry and he managed to avert his eyes from his target and focused on the young lady - man - beside him. His concern for the other was heightened when he noticed the beads of sweat that dotted Arthur’s pale white skin here and there, his legs trembling and his weight beginning to sink to the ground.
“I-I’m fine, I’m fine,” Arthur said as Alfred rested the back of his hand on his dampened forehead and held him by his shoulder. He would have been blushing at the contact if his mind weren’t so preoccupied by the thought he might see that champagne and those party finger foods for a second time. Ugh. He lurched forward again and slapped his right hand over his mouth, removing it and speaking when he was certain that nothing was going to interrupt him, “I’m just a little dizzy, that’s all. The… The lights and music from the ball and running outside like this has just made me a little dizzy.”
He winced and blinked over at Alfred. And he winced when he was scooped up bridal-style without any warning.
His stomach gave another painful lurch, but at least he was off his feet at this point and he no longer needed to grip that damn scratchy hedge. Instead, he was holding onto, with both hands, in fact, the front of Alfred’s dress tunic. And as he opened his mouth to protest or something of the like, he took in a deep breath of the cologne Alfred was wearing… A musky scent with a sort of mild honey tang. Wow, that’s actually-- Wait, why hadn’t he smelled it before? Where did a scruffy troublemaker like him even find cologne? Why was he still mentally fussing over this!?
“Gah!” he growled, the noise bursting from his mouth due to his lack of a steady mind. He shook his head, which, of course, simply made his swirling stomach feel worse. He groaned, “Put me down.”
“Nah, I’ll just keep things this way. I’m sorry, but I don’t need you slowing me down, Miss Kirkland. Let me carry you and you can rest that dizzy head of yours…” Alfred smiled, bending his own head downward to press his lips to the closest pale cheek he found. The kiss was gentle and a bit smirking - and it caused Arthur’s mind to churn at the same confusing rate as his stomach. “… Okay?”
Arthur gulped and gave a weak nod.
“Great! Now, let’s keep going. I think they’ve stopped a ways up ahead, that’ll be good for us, too,” he chirped while they crept away from the hedge together.
They sought out a fresh hiding place in a circle of lily plants, the tall, thick stalks keeping them safe, that was almost directly beside the benches and pond where the King and his company sat. The royal group spoke calmly amongst themselves, although the King was the most prominent of the lot, “An army! A mighty army I do wish to raise! Obviously, my kingdom already has a powerful military force, and yet I wish to make it grander. More soldiers more weapons! Think of it, those idiotic neighboring countries, and possibly those beyond them, could be mine!”
“Tch, what a dick, he’s stealing my plan! And I don’t know if I’m ready to stop him yet,” Alfred murmured between grit teeth. It took every ounce of strength he had not to dash out to the benches and stick his blade in the King’s throat. He growled again at the thought. He then turned to face Arthur, still inwardly fuming, and was softened instantly by the looks of the other. Arthur wasn’t trying to, honestly, he couldn’t help that he was fanning his flushed neck with the petals of a plucked lily or that he was allowing tiny whimpering sounds to escape him… Noticing the attention he was receiving, he pulled his shawl more tightly around him, an involuntary reaction to embarrassment.
“Ah… Maybe we should quit for tonight. There really isn’t much more we can do right now, I guess. C’mon,” Alfred shrugged, moving to place his right hand on Arthur’s, the sweat-dampened fingers laying against his stomach. He snatched it back out of his continued embarrassment, and that proved to be a fatal mistake. Almost as fatal as last night when he had accepted this supposed hero into his life.
With noting to grab, Alfred’s hand wavered for a split-second until it merely flopped on the green gown’s fabric. It fell at Arthur’s waistline, where he could have sworn he noticed something other than the smooth femininity one would expect from a young lady such as Miss Kirkland. Something below. Below.
“Err…?”
“Yes! I agree completely, l-let’s head inside,” Arthur said, barely remembering to maintain a quiet voice with the King likely being within earshot. His cheeks were the darkest shade of pink to date, and he hurried to stand and create distance between himself and Alfred. He only maintained his cool and his appearance as a helpful servant girl by making an offer in a fairly pleasant tone, “You said you wanted to see the servant’s quarters or what have you, right? Let’s go then, we’ll stay there tonight and figure everything out there… I’m feeling much better, by the way.”
At least, he hoped he would be feeling better. If he didn’t, he couldn’t imagine how treacherous the rest of this night could be. What’s worse than a violent King catching you in his private garden? A fooled young man in a shared bedroom wanting to take a look at your privates.
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