[Fic] Shot in the Dark

Aug 12, 2012 14:16

Title: Shot in the Dark
Characters/Pairings: USUK
Rating/Warnings: PG, Cardverse AU
Summary: Alfred really doesn't want to get married, and after Arthur wins the archery tournament for his hand, he lets him know it.



Prince Alfred was bored. He couldn’t help it; this entire tournament was being held in his honor, but it was so boring, especially the archery portion. He could outshoot all of the contestants, and he was expected to marry one of these losers? Not likely!

He frowned as he watched the competitors. At least his parents had agreed to his sole term that, in order for the marriage to actually go through, the winner of the tournament had to first beat him. Seeing as he was the greatest archer in Spades, that wasn’t going to happen. This whole thing was just a giant waste of time.

“The winner,” the event moderator shouted after all the arrows were spent, “is Arthur Kirkland of the House of Two!”

Alfred sighed and stood up as everyone else cheered for the victor. He grabbed his own bow and arrows and made his way down to the archery range where Arthur was already standing around, fiddling with his bow.

“As per Prince Alfred’s request, in order to be deemed worthy of his hand, Arthur will have to defeat the Prince as well.”

“Lovely,” he heard Arthur mutter, “This better be worth all the effort.”

Alfred glared at him as he knocked an arrow and shot it at the target directly in the center of the bulls-eye.  The onlookers clapped as Arthur knocked his arrow, took aim at his own target, and fired right into the center of his bulls-eye, dead center.

It was on then, the two of them firing arrow after arrow into the bulls-eye. The crowd and the cheering and even the contest and what was at stake didn’t matter to Alfred anymore. He just wanted to beat Arthur. It was more about pride now then his impending marriage.

Eventually they ran out of arrows. The score was taken and, although all of the arrows had hit the bulls-eyes, Arthur’s were closer to the center. He actually had the nerve to split an arrow that had hit dead center with another arrow, the show-off.

Alfred ground his teeth and mustered all of the hatred he felt for Arthur and glowered at his new fiancé.

-

It was later that night, after everyone feasted and celebrated his impending doom, when Alfred decided to take his chances and try to sneak out and run away from his problems. That was when he unceremoniously bumped into the current bane of his existence and they both fell to the floor.

Arthur got to his feet first and offered Alfred a hand, “What on earth are you doing here?”

Alfred batted the hand away and stood up on his own, “I live here, remember? This is my castle or did you forget already?”

“I meant, what are you doing out here all by yourself?”

“I’m the Prince! I live here! I can go wherever I please!” he jabbed Arthur’s chest, “And I don’t need a chaperone every time I leave my room!”

Arthur slapped the finger away, “What the hell is your problem with me? I have done absolutely nothing to make you to hate me so much.”

Alfred let out a maniacal laugh, “Of course you have! You beat me! You won! And now I have to marry you? Why wouldn’t I hate you?”

Arthur’s face turned an interesting shade of red as he spluttered and said, “That’s completely ridiculous! You think I’m happy marrying a snot-nosed, spoiled, brat of a Prince like you? If anyone should be doing the hating here, it’s me.”

“I don’t know if you are aware of this or not, but I’m being forced into marriage! Excuse me for not jumping at the chance to marry a complete stranger who’s only after my title!”

“You think I want this?” Arthur glared as he threw his arms in the air and gestured at the hallway around them, “Any of this? I could honestly care less about being your Queen, in fact I quite detest the idea. If I had a choice in the matter I would most certainly be anywhere other than here.”

“You did have a choice,” Alfred frowned as he crossed his arms, “If you didn’t want to marry me, why did you enter the stupid tournament?”

Arthur threw his head back and laughed, loud and mocking, “You have your head so far up your own arse - you think you’re the only person in this kingdom who is being forced into marriage?”

Alfred’s frown deepened, but he didn’t reply.

“My parents can’t wait to get rid of me, so they’ve been trying marrying me off to whoever is offering! The chance for me to be Queen, to bring power and respect to the House of Two and force me to live in the capitol, how could they pass it up?”

Alfred was starting to think that maybe he judged Arthur too fast, but he was also stubborn and didn’t give up easily, “Well, if you didn’t want to marry me, why didn’t you just lose?”

“You don’t think I tried?” Arthur sighed and leaned against the wall, “I did try to lose, but as you’ve probably noticed, I am a damn good archer and those tossers were, quite frankly, pathetic, and even when I wasn’t trying I still won. I would have also thrown the match against you, but, well,” he cleared his throat and looked away, “I can get a bit, competitive, and you are very good. I didn’t want to lose to you, and in the heat of things I forgot that I also didn’t want to win.”

For once in his life, Alfred didn’t know what to say. The two of them stood there in silence for a long while before he could find the right words, “Sorry about, hating you.”

Arthur grunted in acknowledgment but made no other sounds.

“I just, this situation-”

“Is unfortunate,” Arthur kicked away from the wall, “but it is what it is. We may not like each other, but we at least have to get along and work together.”

“Yeah…”

As they parted ways Alfred couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his heart. He promised to himself that he would make up for his rather horrible earlier behavior. He owed it to his future Queen, and who knows. Perhaps they could be friends.

-

Alfred found Arthur reading under a tree in the orchard a few weeks later.  He sat down next him and fidgeted as he waited for Arthur to put down the book and pay attention to him. When he did so, Alfred thrust a wooden box into his chest, with only “Here,” as a preamble.

Arthur took the box and turned it over in his hands. It was finely crafted and hand carved, with the intricate designs of the Kingdom of Spades and the House of Two across its surface.

“This is, lovely,” Arthur smiled as he looked back at Alfred, “Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” Alfred beamed, “It’s an apology present. I’m sorry I was such a jerk when we first met, and I want to make amends.”

He looked back at the box, “It looks like you put a lot of effort into this. You didn’t really have to, you know. I’ve already accepted your apology.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” Alfred felt his cheeks heat up. He brought his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, “I know we didn’t get off to the best start, and that you’ll tolerate me for the sake of our situation, but I figured we could try going beyond just tolerating each other and give being friends a try.”

Arthur blushed and looked away as he absently traced over the designs on the side of the box, “You, want to be my friend?”

“Yeah!” Alfred’s grin was huge, stretching from ear to ear, “I mean we are getting married. If we don’t want to hate the rest of our lives, the least we can do is be friends.”

“Friends,” Arthur’s smile was smaller, but Alfred found he liked it on him and wanted to keep it there anyway he could. “I’ve never really, had a friend before,” he looked up at Alfred, “I should give you something too.”

“You don’t have to,” Alfred waved off his suggestion, “The box is an apology present. You don’t have to apologize to me yet.”

“I want to get you a, friendship present, I suppose,” he opened his book and pulled out the bookmark, handing it to Alfred, “Here, I made this too, so it’s only fair…”

The bookmark was a stiff piece of fabric with a very elaborate painting of a fairy scene on it. Alfred took the present and asked, “Did you do the painting too?” Arthur nodded, Alfred smiled brighter than before, “I love it.”

“You don’t have to say that,” he turned the box over in his hands again, “It’s not as good as yours.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re a very good artist, Arthur.”

Arthur’s ears went red as he set the box down next to him and picked up his book, hiding his face in it before replying, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence, content with each other’s presence and the start of their new relationship.

america, fanfic, england, one-shot, hetalia

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