You Wish (2b/?)
anonymous
July 10 2010, 20:20:37 UTC
“Arthur’s emptiness consumed him,” Portugal said, her voice echoing regret and loss. “Although the law of the land gave Francis the right to choose his bride, Arthur did not love him.”
“I think you’re making this sadder than it needs to be…” Brazil muttered uncertainly. He was actually starting to feel pretty bad for Arthur at this point. His life seemed like one giant suckfest. You couldn’t blame the guy for cutting himself off a little.
Portugal glanced at Brazil momentarily, but went on with the story. “Despite Francis’s reassurance that Arthur would grow to love him, the only joy he found was in his daily ride.”
-
Air was flying past him at an almost frightening pace, but Arthur loved it. This was the only thing left in the world he allowed himself to enjoy, and he’d be damned if anyone took it from him. Clutching tightly to his horse, Arthur leaned so that they ran the smallest bit faster and felt his heart jump. This… At least there was freedom in this.
Francis had found him only three months ago, and already Arthur was sick of him and his castle. He wasn’t unkind or unattractive or neglectful, he was just…not Alfred. And more than that, he was not Arthur’s choice, so there hadn’t even been a stirring in his closed-off heart. No, Arthur was forced into this marriage and this life.
Damn the laws, he thought venomously. And damn all those who had fond thoughts for him in his ‘future bliss’. Why couldn’t they just be satisfied to let him live out his life alone, as he’d planned?
Arthur sighed as his tense posture subtly affected his mount, making the ride slow. Soon they had fallen from an all-out gallop to a canter. He stroked the horse’s neck by way of apology for his dark thoughts. He was supposed to be enjoying himself for once, and here he was, still bitter and broken up thinking about a man who’d been gone for five years.
Putting the matter from his mind with as much force as necessary, Arthur made himself admire the countryside and the calming peace of solitude so far from the castle and its city. He’d nearly managed to bring a contented look to his face when shapes in the distance caught his attention.
Rapidly closing in on them, Arthur saw they were three men, standing close together in his path. They were an interesting mix, in any case. Their apparent leader (as he was standing foremost) was a small, thin brunette man wearing a charming smile. The next closest to him was a tousle-haired brunette, slightly taller and with what appeared to be a practiced air of ease with the world. The most prominent figure belonged to their third companion. This man was a giant, there was no quibbling about it. Hulking but with an innocent upturn of the lips, he was pale and intimidating as the winter itself.
“A word, my lord?” the smallest man said as Arthur approached. “We are but poor, lost circus performers.” Privately Arthur thought it at least explained their strange appearances. “Is there a village nearby?”
“There is nothing nearby,” Arthur answered. He’d made sure to distance himself from the world and knew the nearest town was a good ten minutes ride away. “Not for miles.”
The small man’s grin turned just the slightest bit disconcerting, and Arthur’s horse danced agitatedly as the giant man moved subtly closer to them. “Then there will be no one to hear you scream.”
Arthur had drawn breath to do just that when the giant’s hand closed over his neck, thumb pressing into a sensitive spot. It sent a starburst of pain through his skull, but before he had time to do more than gasp, darkness clouded his vision and he felt himself slump in the saddle, frighteningly falling into unconsciousness.
You Wish (2c/?)
anonymous
July 10 2010, 20:21:38 UTC
In a tiny, isolated inlet along Florin Channel, a boat was moored. As dusk approached, four people made it to the sailboat, one breaking from the group to begin preparing for their journey. Antonio was lighter than Ivan, more experienced with ships than Romano, so it was always him designated to get the boat’s rigging and sails in place.
Ivan carried the unconscious Arthur on board, depositing him on the deck to lean against the boat’s framework. Bound and unaware, Arthur slumped against the wood support like a rag doll.
As his companions were at work on board, Romano, their small leader had proceeded to rip apart an army jacket, tearing a swath of fabric from the arm. He proceeded to tuck them along Arthur’s saddle, attempting to make it look accidentally placed.
Antonio leaned over the edge of the boat, watching Romano. “What is that you’re ripping?” he asaked curiously, grinning at Romano even if he didn’t turn from his task.
“It’s fabric from the uniform of an army officer of Guilder,” he answered tersely.
“Who’s Guilder?”
Romano rolled his eyes and finally turned to look back at Antonio. “The country across the sea.” A blank look. “The sworn enemy of Florin!” Antonio still didn’t seem to have a clue what he was talking about, just grinning serenely at Romano.
The Italian gave up and finished his work with the horse, eventually slapping it across the rump and sending it on its way back to the castle.
“Once the horse reaches the castle,” Romano started, joining his companions on the boat, “the fabric will make the Prince suspect Guilderians have abducted his love. When he finds her body dead on the Guilder frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed.”
Antonio looked taken aback. “You never said anything about killing anyone,” he said, worried.
“You’re here to help me start a war,” Romano explained frustratedly. “That’s a prestigious line of work with a long and glorious tradition.” The Spaniard shot an uneasy glance at Arthur where he rested bonelessly against the wall of the boat.
“I just don’t think it’s right; killing an innocent person,” Ivan interrupted, starting the boat moving anyway.
Romano whirled on Ivan, almost immediately livid. “Am I going mad, or did the word ‘think’ just come out of your mouth?” Small as he was, Romano still seemed to believe he could intimidate Ivan by getting up in his face and yelling. “You were not hired for your brains, you gigantic land mass!”
He was silent for a moment, but then Antonio added in, “I agree with Ivan.”
It was with cold fury that Romano turned on Antonio. “Oh. The sot has spoken.” He gave Antonio an ugly look, and the Spaniard looked almost apologetic. “What happens to him is not truly your concern. I’ll kill him! And remember this. Never forget this!”
Romano charged forward to stab an accusatory finger in Antonio’s chest. “When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk you couldn’t buy brandy!”
“And you!” Romano turned to Ivan with disgust written on his face. “Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless!” Ivan looked unaffected by the yelling, except perhaps a slight darkening of his aura, which Romano was too annoyed to notice. “Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed in Greenland!”
Romano glared at the pair of them; Antonio avoiding his eyes and Ivan staring right back at him, unmoved. Exasperated, Romano stomped to the front-most point of the sailboat, glaring moodily at the water as they moved slowly out of the inlet.
With Romano busy staring down the waves, Antonio looked to Ivan for entertainment. After a second of thinking, he bumped his foot against Ivan’s to get his attention. “You know Romano, he can fuss.”
“Fuss..fuss…” Ivan looked determined and thought before replying, “I think he likes to scream at us.”
“Probably he means no harm,” Antonio prompted once more.
“He’s really very short on…” Ivan momentarily searched for a rhyme. “Charm!”
“Oh, you’ve a great gift for rhyme,” Antonio said, amused.
You Wish (2d/?)
anonymous
July 10 2010, 20:22:31 UTC
Romano, who had been getting steadily more tense as the exchange went on, finally whipped around, exasperated. “Enough of that!”
“Ivan,” Antonio asked after a moment of silence, “are there rocks ahead?”
“If there are, we’ll all be dead,” Ivan answered cheerfully.
“No more rhymes now,” Romano snapped. “I mean it!”
After a second, Ivan got in one last reply. “Anybody want a peanut?”
Romano could probably be heard screaming his frustration back where they’d left Florin as a shrinking spot of land behind them.
~
As night fell, Antonio took over the helm, Ivan moving to stand guard over the ‘princess’, who might awake any time now. Romano sat motionless across from Antonio’s post, watching the dark water with a small frown. He’d walked the length of the sailboat twice and stared calculatingly into the distance ahead of them before he spoke again.
“We’ll reach the Cliffs by morning,” he stated with certainty. Antonio nodded, head turned slightly to look back.
“Why are you doing that?” Romano groused. It was starting to look like the idiot Spaniard had some sort of tic.
“Making sure nobody’s following us,” Antonio answered with an easy shrug.
That was a valid reason for checking the waters earlier, but not this late at night, Romano reasoned. “That would be inconceivable,” he gave as his final judgment. Romano couldn’t, after all, have Antonio believing he’d made a rational excuse.
“Despite what you think, you will be caught,” another voice piped up suddenly. Three heads turned to find Arthur awake and struggling at his bonds, even if the effort was fruitless. Finally abandoning the task, Arthur glared coldly at them. “Trust me, Francis will find you. He’s always been good at tracking down things that don’t want to be caught by him,” he spat bitterly.
“You’re going to be hanged,” Arthur went on after a moment, voice completely frank.
“Of all the necks on this boat, Princess,” Romano replied with a sneer, “the one you should be worrying about is your own.”
Arthur’s face shut down, becoming absolutely steely. “Go ahead, call me ‘princess’ one more time. See what happens,” he threatened lowly.
More intimidated than he felt proper, Romano went back to berating Antonio for his paranoia. “Stop doing that,” he snapped as the man’s head turned to glance behind again. “We can all relax. It’s almost over.” Arthur scoffed behind him, rolling his eyes.
Antonio looked uneasy. “You’re sure nobody’s following us?”
Romano sighed in a put-upon manner. “As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we’ve done. And no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.” Frustrated, he stormed off to push Ivan away from where he’d been taunting the ‘princess’, who looked about ready to kill him. If Arthur’s hands hadn’t been tied, Romano had the suspicion the blonde might have actually tried it.
“Out of curiosity,” Romano asked, unable to resist, “why do you ask?”
Antonio gave a one shouldered shrug. “No reason. It’s only, I just happened to look behind us, and something is there.”
Romano’s expression became instantly shocked. “What?” He moved to look into the area of darkness Antonio seemed to be staring at. There was nothing, just as there should be. It was planned perfectly. No one could be following them, their prize was safely tied and under Ivan’s watch, and they would reach their destination perhaps even a bit ahead of schedule. Romano had planned it perfectly.
But then the wind shifted, pushed a bit of fog just the right direction and…
Yes, there it was. A boat somewhat smaller than their own, but a good distance off.
“Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise,” Romano explained uneasily. “At night. In…eel-infested waters.”
You Wish (2e/?)
anonymous
July 10 2010, 20:23:26 UTC
Arthur watched as two of his captors leaned over the back of the boat, in a conversation he couldn’t hear but didn’t much care about. And this oaf nearest him… It was clear that Arthur couldn’t even take him in a fight with proper mobility, but maybe if he could get that one loop over his wrists- ha! Hiding his hands as inconspicuously as possible, Arthur quickly unwound the thin rope.
He waited until the giant’s attention drifted to what was going on at the back of the boat, then shoved at him enough that he lost his balance, buying Arthur a few precious moments. With those, he swung himself over the railing of the boat and dropped into what he already knew would be near-freezing water with no hesitation.
He started in on long, powerful strokes even as a commotion rose on the boat. Perhaps Arthur could just keep swimming until he reached some distant shore, or perhaps a kind sailing vessel. He could fake his identity, once-fine clothes effectively disguised by how waterlogged they would become. Arthur could start over, live his life in peace, and leave Francis behind to sit on his pretty little throne. Let him find some girl who would be flattered by his proposal. Arthur wanted none of it. His strokes became stronger at the thought of it all.
“Get in!” Romano screamed on the deck of his sailboat. “Go after him!”
“I don’t swim,” Antonio offered uselessly.
Ivan shook his head. “I only dog paddle.”
Realizing the two were useless in this, he shoved Antonio toward the helm again, shouting orders. “Veer left! Left! Left!”
The boat was turning toward him, Arthur thought, slightly panicked. And they were going to catch him and kill him and…his arms slowed. Why was he running? It wasn’t like he truly wanted to go on with the sad existence he was being forced into. War with Guilder. That was why. Arthur took up swimming again. People didn’t have to die because of him. People like Alfred, young men with lives and loves, did not have to die because these idiots thought war was a game.
His limbs froze again for a new reason. There was something in the water. And with a sickening turn of his stomach, Arthur could hear it as well as feel slick movements against his legs where he tread water. A high-pitched wail, too close for comfort.
“Do you know what that sound is, Highness?” The Italian asked cruelly, grinning. He did. Arthur knew his geography and he’d been taught the dangers of the world like any other. “Those are the Shrieking Eels.” But hearing it said made it more real, and Arthur’s flesh crawled. “If you doubt me, just wait. They always grow louder when they’re about to feed on human flesh.”
Arthur jerked back from the slide of a wet body against his hip. Not far off, not nearly far enough, a black shape broke the water, shining in the darkness and moving toward him before it disappeared once more.
“If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you,” Romano shouted to him. “I doubt you’ll get such an offer from the eels.”
It was either determination or terror that kept Arthur from replying. They shouldn’t be allowed to succeed, to kill him on foreign lands for the sake of more death. But he didn’t want to die like this. Alone, freezing cold and floating among invisible creatures writhing and shrieking in the thrill of fresh meat.
Petrified, Arthur could hardly muster up a fight-or-flight response. Then there was a gigantic dark thing coming at him, its features clearing in the moonlight. An ugly snout smoothing back into slick, dark skin, dead eyes over jaws that could easily take him down. And those jaws were starting to part, their owner circling slightly, following Arthur as he turned a semi-circle in panic. Brief thoughts of freezing, hoping it couldn’t locate him, were crushed. It had seen him, surely.
You Wish (2f/?)
anonymous
July 10 2010, 20:24:27 UTC
The thought was confirmed when the gigantic eel zeroed in on him. There were no pupils to track its sight, but Arthur was sure. This was it. It was over, all over. Arthur’s arm pulled back, fingers clenching, fight response kicking in even if it was too late.
The horrible jaws opened, the eel sliding so fast through the water, its momentum alone would crush Arthur. His spine went rigid and chilled as the ghostly shrieks around him increased in pitch and frequency, calling forward his own death. Arthur sucked in what was sure to be his final breath-
-
“He doesn’t get eaten by the eels at this time.”
Portugal’s abrupt change in tone made Brazil blink in surprise. “What?”
“The eel doesn’t get him,” Portugal repeated gently. “I’m explaining to you because you look nervous.”
Brazil looked down to see he was gripping the sheets of his bed a little too tightly, and smoothed them back down. “Well, I wasn’t nervous.” Portugal gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him at all. “Well, maybe I was a little concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”
“Because I can stop now if you want.” Portugal gave him a look, and Brazil felt like a little kid being taken care of.
“No, you could read a little bit more if you want,” he said quickly. “What? You think I can’t handle a stupid fish?”
Portugal smiled, but went back to the book. “‘Do you know what that sound is, Highness?’ The Italian asked cruelly, grinning.”
“We’re past that,” Brazil interrupted. “You read it already.”
“Oh.” Portugal looked taken aback. “Oh my goodness, I did. I’m sorry.” Her eyes traced the pages until she found the correct spot again. “I beg your pardon. Alright, let’s see. Uh, Arthur was in the water, the eel was coming after him. He was frightened. The eel started to charge him, and then-”
-
Arthur saw his life flash before his eyes, except, wait, that wasn’t his life. It was an arm, and a rather large one, coming down onto the eel’s head with a sickening thump and crack. Equally large arms were suddenly around him, lifting him back into the boat.
“Put him down,” Romano ordered. “Just put him down already.” The order was obeyed, and Arthur unceremoniously hit the deck, gasping slightly both at the relief of being alive and the shock of hitting wood so hard.
“I think he’s getting closer,” came the Spaniard’s voice. Arthur wasn’t sure whether to be relieved he was given a moment to compose himself, or annoyed that they weren’t more concerned that he’d just almost been eaten.
Either way, the moment was over soon enough, as the Italian knelt to retie Arthur’s wrists. Trembling with the remnants of life-and-death adrenaline, Arthur put up little fight, only glaring ocular fire at the other man.
“He’s no concern of ours!” Romano called back to Antonio. “Sail on!” He tied the thin ropes tightly, making Arthur winced and attempt to kick at him. “I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you?” he asked, giving Arthur a scathing look.
Arthur gave him just as good right back. “Only compared to some,” he spat smugly. He hadn’t missed Romano unwilling to jump in himself. In fact the man had paled when he realized his companions were unable to do the job. And now, Arthur knew he’d successfully hit a sore spot. Romano grew red in the face, shoved him back against the wood of the boat, and stalked off angrily, but silent.
Re: You Wish (2f/?)
anonymous
July 10 2010, 23:59:50 UTC
YES. AN UPDATE.
Unfff.. I love love love this. I really do. And it makes me.. giddy, to know that Alfred is following behind ready to save him. Oh, and Ivan being called "gigantic land mass".. I laughed. <333
Re: You Wish (2f/?)
anonymous
July 11 2010, 00:17:29 UTC
W-why is Russia so adorable? And why does Antonio have an accent in my head? Please update soon so I can answer these questions! and have Alfred come and kick some ass?
OP is finally back!
anonymous
July 12 2010, 02:30:10 UTC
THANK YOU ANON! <3 I'm sorry I haven't checked this for so long, but this is brilliant. If I knew you in person I would ask for your hand in mawrriage.
You Wish (3a/?)
anonymous
July 18 2010, 07:27:07 UTC
Arthur didn’t sleep that night. So he was wide awake by the time their little boat made it to the cliffs Romano was heading for. He’d also been watching their pursuer, who was by now only minutes behind them, close enough its captain could be seen. The man wasn’t distinguishable from the distance, but he was dressed all in black as a match to the intimidating dark sails of his boat. Arthur was impressed by his skills with a vessel; he’d somehow steadily gained on them all through the night, fog and erratic tides apparently not a hindrance for him.
“Look!” The shout from Antonio pulled Arthur’s attention away from the other boat, but he saw that was exactly what the Spaniard was pointing at. “He’s right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using…” he trailed off thoughtfully.
“Whoever he is, he’s too late,” Romano replied, viciously triumphant. “See? The Cliffs of Insanity!” Arthur swung back for a better look at their destination and saw rock cliffs rising straight up out of the water, impossibly high and without the slightest hint of handholds. They were truly daunting and Arthur wondered what his stupid kidnappers were planning to do with them once they arrived. It wasn’t like the cliffs would offer any safety.
Antonio put on the speed as much as possible, using the wind to direct them straight at the cliffs, making Arthur a little worried they might crash and die right there. He didn’t trust some idiot from Spain not to run them against the sheer rocks and crush the little boat. Only a bit behind, the man in black was closing on them just as quickly.
“Hurry up!” Romano shouted irritably. “Move the thing! No! That other thing! Move it.” He paused in his shouting to glance back. The distance between the two boats was growing, if slowly. “We’re safe! Only Ivan is strong enough to go up our way. He’ll have to sail around for hours until he finds a harbor.”
Everything became movement as they neared the cliffs, and Arthur was surprised to note it looked as though his captors actually knew what they were doing for the first time. The Spaniard had landed them safely alongside the cliffs on a tiny jut of rock. Ivan departed the boat without a word, searching along the cliff face for a moment. Eventually, he came back with a length of rope. Looking up so far it gave him vertigo, Arthur saw distantly it looked to go all the way to the top.
With a kind of efficiency unbefitting of the bumbling idiots Arthur had been dealing with before, Antonio strapped a harness-type device around Ivan, then helped Romano strap himself into it. Seeing he was next, Arthur backed away, but realized there really was nowhere else to go but into the water. Fighting all the way regardless, Arthur semi-allowed himself to be strapped in as well.
Ivan gave Arthur a leering grin as Antonio strapped himself in afterward. Stomach roiling in disgust, Arthur looked away and chanced to glance at the other boat. The boat’s owner was watching them with fascination, still keeping a hold on his boat in the waves crashing against the cliffs. Arthur kind of wished he’d get his lazy arse in gear if he was supposed to be some sort of rescue party.
You Wish (3b/?)
anonymous
July 18 2010, 07:29:07 UTC
Suddenly, Ivan began to climb, making Arthur jump and instinctively grab onto him. Remembering himself a moment later, Arthur released the giants arm to fall if need be, but never to cling on to that creep.
As they rose higher and higher, Arthur sort of ran out of options on that, however. If he leaned to far out from Ivan, the balance would be thrown off and he would be left feeling faintly sick and staring down an impossible height to dark waves and sharp rocks. Eventually he had no choice but to close his eyes, clasp a hand in Ivan’s shirt, and pray to God they didn’t fall.
By the time the man in black secured his boat (not well, Arthur noted, slightly hysterical, but enough that he could start after them), Ivan had cleared over a third of the distance. Arthur’s arms were shaking and he could hear the leather of the harness holding him creak ominously every so often. For probably the eight billionth time in the last two days, Arthur cursed his luck. If only Francis could have just left him the fuck alone, he wouldn’t be dangling over sharp rocks, strapped to a disturbing Russian, looking to a mysterious man in black as the only option that might save his life.
Even with his heart in his throat and his stomach somewhere behind him on the ground, Arthur was still impressed by their follower’s determination. He was practically flying up the rope, almost entirely using his upper body strength to pull himself up.
It seemed he’d caught Antonio’s attention as well. “He’s climbing the rope,” the Spaniard noted absently, not sounding nervous in the least. “And he’s gaining on us.”
Romano leaned around Ivan to stare down at the man in black. “Inconceivable!” With that declaration, he prodded Ivan’s shoulder, glowering. The large man nodded and his pace increased marginally, the strain of carrying three extra people clearly affecting his performance.
Romano noticed and was soon yelling at the Russian to move faster. “I thought I was going faster,” Ivan muttered. Arthur could see beads of sweat popping up across his forehead. Oh, God, please don’t let him drop them all. Or at least let one of the useless sods break Arthur’s fall first.
“You were supposed to be this colossus,” Romano growled, eyes narrowed. “You were this great legendary thing. And yet, he gains!” The Italian pointed down at the man in black, who was closing the gap between them rapidly, climbing the rope hand over hand like lightning.
“I’m carrying three people,” Ivan pointed out, quite fairly given the circumstance. “And he’s only got himself.”
“I do not accept excuses!” Romano turned red in his fury, then dropped his voice into such a condescending tone that Arthur felt it was enough to make anyone feel like they were worthless. “I’m just going to have to find myself a new giant, that’s all.”
“Don’t say that, Romano,” Ivan said, sounding the slightest bit hurt, but mostly annoyed. Regardless, his pace had dropped back to what it was when he began. Arthur looked to the man in black, who he could now see also had the top half of his head covered by black cloth. There was perhaps two hundred feet between them at most. Looking up, Arthur saw roughly half that distance until the top of the cliffs. It was a toss-up which distance would be closed first.
“Did I make it clear your job is at stake?” Romano shrieked, noticing the same thing Arthur had.
Arthur kept his eyes down, hoping against hope the man would reach them, but unsure what would happen if he did. Perhaps they would fight, and all be sent plummeting into the waters below. Perhaps he would escape with Arthur intact and whisk him back to Francis. Perhaps Arthur could talk him into letting him go before they reached Florin. Perhaps-
You Wish (3c/?)
anonymous
July 18 2010, 07:30:50 UTC
Romano detached himself quickly, taking out a knife as Ivan dragged himself up with the other two passengers. Antonio helped Arthur out of the leather straps holding him in, and the blonde man slapped at him the moment he was free. He didn’t need the idiot Spaniard touching him. Shaking out his legs and looking around, Arthur saw they were standing in the ruins of an old fort.
A shine caught his eye and Arthur saw Romano kneeling beside a large rock, knife most of the way through the thick rope they’d used to climb up. The same rope Arthur’s would-be rescuer was using now.
With a slight slithering sound, the rope raced over the ground and out of sight off the edge of the cliff. Worried, Arthur moved quickly to stand beside Antonio and Ivan as they stood by the cliff’s edge.
“Ha!” Arthur cried triumphantly, spinning to grin fiercely at Romano. He heard Ivan comment on the man’s impressive arm strength behind him, but was more focused on Romano’s fuming face as he joined them looking down.
“He didn’t fall?!” the Italian cried. “Inconceivable!” The man was indeed clinging to the side of the cliff, most likely holding on for dear life, but not falling. He still had about fifty feet ahead between himself and safety, but he’d made it this far.
“You keep using that word,” Antonio interrupted. “I do not think it means what you think it means.” They watched for a few seconds more before Antonio pointed out the obvious but unbelievable. “My God! He’s climbing!”
And so he was. Very slowly, he was picking his way upward, clearly struggling to find decent handholds. It was an inching progress, but he was moving.
Romano twitched faintly in irritation. “Whoever he is, he’s obviously seen us with the Princess and must therefore die.” Arthur glowered at the princess comment and shoved Romano with his still-bound hands, pleased when the movement placed him disconcertingly close to the edge of the cliff.
“You,” Romano said, gesturing to Ivan, “carry him.” Arthur shot Ivan a filthy look, but chose not to fight the order. Turning to Antonio, Romano went on. “We’ll head straight for the Guilder frontier. Catch up when he’s dead. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword.”
You Wish (3d/?)
anonymous
July 18 2010, 07:35:51 UTC
Antonio nodded, fingering the sword Arthur hadn’t noticed until now, hanging from the Spaniard’s belt. Romano started to turn away, but was stopped by Antonio’s next comment.
“I want to duel him left-handed.”
The Italian swiveled back to him. “You know what a hurry we’re in,” he started warningly.
“Well, it’s the only way I can be satisfied,” he said, clearly talking about something Arthur didn’t really understand. “If I use my right, tch, over too quickly.” Ah, so he was ambidextrous as well as a skilled swordsman. What a pleasant surprise.
“Oh, have it your way,” Romano gave in finally. The Italian stalked past Arthur, grumbling under his breath and digging in a small patch of scrub brush for a hidden pack. Meanwhile, Ivan made his way toward Antonio, glancing with him over the cliff.
“Be careful,” Ivan warned after a moment. “People in masks cannot be trusted.” Antonio nodded gravely. Arthur rolled his eyes at the unneeded intensity they were giving that bit of information. If the man wanted to wear a mask, so be it.
“I’m waiting!” Romano’s voice was grating, even from a distance. However, it also spurred Ivan into action, and he swung Arthur into a half bridal style hold, which considerably less comfortable than it looked. With that, they were off after Romano, leaving Antonio to deal with Arthur’s potential rescuer.
-- A/N: So...college orientation was fun. Sort of. Anyway, the next part shoulde be up within the week, and sorry for the delay on this one (and the shortness!), but Alfred will be showing up next time!
Also, thank you for your comments, they are lovely! And I'm glad OP is happy with me. ^_^
recaptcha: lover revived Spoiler alert! Al's not really dead!
“I think you’re making this sadder than it needs to be…” Brazil muttered uncertainly. He was actually starting to feel pretty bad for Arthur at this point. His life seemed like one giant suckfest. You couldn’t blame the guy for cutting himself off a little.
Portugal glanced at Brazil momentarily, but went on with the story. “Despite Francis’s reassurance that Arthur would grow to love him, the only joy he found was in his daily ride.”
-
Air was flying past him at an almost frightening pace, but Arthur loved it. This was the only thing left in the world he allowed himself to enjoy, and he’d be damned if anyone took it from him. Clutching tightly to his horse, Arthur leaned so that they ran the smallest bit faster and felt his heart jump. This… At least there was freedom in this.
Francis had found him only three months ago, and already Arthur was sick of him and his castle. He wasn’t unkind or unattractive or neglectful, he was just…not Alfred. And more than that, he was not Arthur’s choice, so there hadn’t even been a stirring in his closed-off heart. No, Arthur was forced into this marriage and this life.
Damn the laws, he thought venomously. And damn all those who had fond thoughts for him in his ‘future bliss’. Why couldn’t they just be satisfied to let him live out his life alone, as he’d planned?
Arthur sighed as his tense posture subtly affected his mount, making the ride slow. Soon they had fallen from an all-out gallop to a canter. He stroked the horse’s neck by way of apology for his dark thoughts. He was supposed to be enjoying himself for once, and here he was, still bitter and broken up thinking about a man who’d been gone for five years.
Putting the matter from his mind with as much force as necessary, Arthur made himself admire the countryside and the calming peace of solitude so far from the castle and its city. He’d nearly managed to bring a contented look to his face when shapes in the distance caught his attention.
Rapidly closing in on them, Arthur saw they were three men, standing close together in his path. They were an interesting mix, in any case. Their apparent leader (as he was standing foremost) was a small, thin brunette man wearing a charming smile. The next closest to him was a tousle-haired brunette, slightly taller and with what appeared to be a practiced air of ease with the world. The most prominent figure belonged to their third companion. This man was a giant, there was no quibbling about it. Hulking but with an innocent upturn of the lips, he was pale and intimidating as the winter itself.
“A word, my lord?” the smallest man said as Arthur approached. “We are but poor, lost circus performers.” Privately Arthur thought it at least explained their strange appearances. “Is there a village nearby?”
“There is nothing nearby,” Arthur answered. He’d made sure to distance himself from the world and knew the nearest town was a good ten minutes ride away. “Not for miles.”
The small man’s grin turned just the slightest bit disconcerting, and Arthur’s horse danced agitatedly as the giant man moved subtly closer to them. “Then there will be no one to hear you scream.”
Arthur had drawn breath to do just that when the giant’s hand closed over his neck, thumb pressing into a sensitive spot. It sent a starburst of pain through his skull, but before he had time to do more than gasp, darkness clouded his vision and he felt himself slump in the saddle, frighteningly falling into unconsciousness.
~
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Ivan carried the unconscious Arthur on board, depositing him on the deck to lean against the boat’s framework. Bound and unaware, Arthur slumped against the wood support like a rag doll.
As his companions were at work on board, Romano, their small leader had proceeded to rip apart an army jacket, tearing a swath of fabric from the arm. He proceeded to tuck them along Arthur’s saddle, attempting to make it look accidentally placed.
Antonio leaned over the edge of the boat, watching Romano. “What is that you’re ripping?” he asaked curiously, grinning at Romano even if he didn’t turn from his task.
“It’s fabric from the uniform of an army officer of Guilder,” he answered tersely.
“Who’s Guilder?”
Romano rolled his eyes and finally turned to look back at Antonio. “The country across the sea.” A blank look. “The sworn enemy of Florin!” Antonio still didn’t seem to have a clue what he was talking about, just grinning serenely at Romano.
The Italian gave up and finished his work with the horse, eventually slapping it across the rump and sending it on its way back to the castle.
“Once the horse reaches the castle,” Romano started, joining his companions on the boat, “the fabric will make the Prince suspect Guilderians have abducted his love. When he finds her body dead on the Guilder frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed.”
Antonio looked taken aback. “You never said anything about killing anyone,” he said, worried.
“You’re here to help me start a war,” Romano explained frustratedly. “That’s a prestigious line of work with a long and glorious tradition.” The Spaniard shot an uneasy glance at Arthur where he rested bonelessly against the wall of the boat.
“I just don’t think it’s right; killing an innocent person,” Ivan interrupted, starting the boat moving anyway.
Romano whirled on Ivan, almost immediately livid. “Am I going mad, or did the word ‘think’ just come out of your mouth?” Small as he was, Romano still seemed to believe he could intimidate Ivan by getting up in his face and yelling. “You were not hired for your brains, you gigantic land mass!”
He was silent for a moment, but then Antonio added in, “I agree with Ivan.”
It was with cold fury that Romano turned on Antonio. “Oh. The sot has spoken.” He gave Antonio an ugly look, and the Spaniard looked almost apologetic. “What happens to him is not truly your concern. I’ll kill him! And remember this. Never forget this!”
Romano charged forward to stab an accusatory finger in Antonio’s chest. “When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk you couldn’t buy brandy!”
“And you!” Romano turned to Ivan with disgust written on his face. “Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless!” Ivan looked unaffected by the yelling, except perhaps a slight darkening of his aura, which Romano was too annoyed to notice. “Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed in Greenland!”
Romano glared at the pair of them; Antonio avoiding his eyes and Ivan staring right back at him, unmoved. Exasperated, Romano stomped to the front-most point of the sailboat, glaring moodily at the water as they moved slowly out of the inlet.
With Romano busy staring down the waves, Antonio looked to Ivan for entertainment. After a second of thinking, he bumped his foot against Ivan’s to get his attention. “You know Romano, he can fuss.”
“Fuss..fuss…” Ivan looked determined and thought before replying, “I think he likes to scream at us.”
“Probably he means no harm,” Antonio prompted once more.
“He’s really very short on…” Ivan momentarily searched for a rhyme. “Charm!”
“Oh, you’ve a great gift for rhyme,” Antonio said, amused.
Ivan shrugged. “Yes, some of the time.”
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“Ivan,” Antonio asked after a moment of silence, “are there rocks ahead?”
“If there are, we’ll all be dead,” Ivan answered cheerfully.
“No more rhymes now,” Romano snapped. “I mean it!”
After a second, Ivan got in one last reply. “Anybody want a peanut?”
Romano could probably be heard screaming his frustration back where they’d left Florin as a shrinking spot of land behind them.
~
As night fell, Antonio took over the helm, Ivan moving to stand guard over the ‘princess’, who might awake any time now. Romano sat motionless across from Antonio’s post, watching the dark water with a small frown. He’d walked the length of the sailboat twice and stared calculatingly into the distance ahead of them before he spoke again.
“We’ll reach the Cliffs by morning,” he stated with certainty. Antonio nodded, head turned slightly to look back.
“Why are you doing that?” Romano groused. It was starting to look like the idiot Spaniard had some sort of tic.
“Making sure nobody’s following us,” Antonio answered with an easy shrug.
That was a valid reason for checking the waters earlier, but not this late at night, Romano reasoned. “That would be inconceivable,” he gave as his final judgment. Romano couldn’t, after all, have Antonio believing he’d made a rational excuse.
“Despite what you think, you will be caught,” another voice piped up suddenly. Three heads turned to find Arthur awake and struggling at his bonds, even if the effort was fruitless. Finally abandoning the task, Arthur glared coldly at them. “Trust me, Francis will find you. He’s always been good at tracking down things that don’t want to be caught by him,” he spat bitterly.
“You’re going to be hanged,” Arthur went on after a moment, voice completely frank.
“Of all the necks on this boat, Princess,” Romano replied with a sneer, “the one you should be worrying about is your own.”
Arthur’s face shut down, becoming absolutely steely. “Go ahead, call me ‘princess’ one more time. See what happens,” he threatened lowly.
More intimidated than he felt proper, Romano went back to berating Antonio for his paranoia. “Stop doing that,” he snapped as the man’s head turned to glance behind again. “We can all relax. It’s almost over.” Arthur scoffed behind him, rolling his eyes.
Antonio looked uneasy. “You’re sure nobody’s following us?”
Romano sighed in a put-upon manner. “As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we’ve done. And no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.” Frustrated, he stormed off to push Ivan away from where he’d been taunting the ‘princess’, who looked about ready to kill him. If Arthur’s hands hadn’t been tied, Romano had the suspicion the blonde might have actually tried it.
“Out of curiosity,” Romano asked, unable to resist, “why do you ask?”
Antonio gave a one shouldered shrug. “No reason. It’s only, I just happened to look behind us, and something is there.”
Romano’s expression became instantly shocked. “What?” He moved to look into the area of darkness Antonio seemed to be staring at. There was nothing, just as there should be. It was planned perfectly. No one could be following them, their prize was safely tied and under Ivan’s watch, and they would reach their destination perhaps even a bit ahead of schedule. Romano had planned it perfectly.
But then the wind shifted, pushed a bit of fog just the right direction and…
Yes, there it was. A boat somewhat smaller than their own, but a good distance off.
“Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise,” Romano explained uneasily. “At night. In…eel-infested waters.”
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He waited until the giant’s attention drifted to what was going on at the back of the boat, then shoved at him enough that he lost his balance, buying Arthur a few precious moments. With those, he swung himself over the railing of the boat and dropped into what he already knew would be near-freezing water with no hesitation.
He started in on long, powerful strokes even as a commotion rose on the boat. Perhaps Arthur could just keep swimming until he reached some distant shore, or perhaps a kind sailing vessel. He could fake his identity, once-fine clothes effectively disguised by how waterlogged they would become. Arthur could start over, live his life in peace, and leave Francis behind to sit on his pretty little throne. Let him find some girl who would be flattered by his proposal. Arthur wanted none of it. His strokes became stronger at the thought of it all.
“Get in!” Romano screamed on the deck of his sailboat. “Go after him!”
“I don’t swim,” Antonio offered uselessly.
Ivan shook his head. “I only dog paddle.”
Realizing the two were useless in this, he shoved Antonio toward the helm again, shouting orders. “Veer left! Left! Left!”
The boat was turning toward him, Arthur thought, slightly panicked. And they were going to catch him and kill him and…his arms slowed. Why was he running? It wasn’t like he truly wanted to go on with the sad existence he was being forced into. War with Guilder. That was why. Arthur took up swimming again. People didn’t have to die because of him. People like Alfred, young men with lives and loves, did not have to die because these idiots thought war was a game.
His limbs froze again for a new reason. There was something in the water. And with a sickening turn of his stomach, Arthur could hear it as well as feel slick movements against his legs where he tread water. A high-pitched wail, too close for comfort.
“Do you know what that sound is, Highness?” The Italian asked cruelly, grinning. He did. Arthur knew his geography and he’d been taught the dangers of the world like any other. “Those are the Shrieking Eels.” But hearing it said made it more real, and Arthur’s flesh crawled. “If you doubt me, just wait. They always grow louder when they’re about to feed on human flesh.”
Arthur jerked back from the slide of a wet body against his hip. Not far off, not nearly far enough, a black shape broke the water, shining in the darkness and moving toward him before it disappeared once more.
“If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you,” Romano shouted to him. “I doubt you’ll get such an offer from the eels.”
It was either determination or terror that kept Arthur from replying. They shouldn’t be allowed to succeed, to kill him on foreign lands for the sake of more death. But he didn’t want to die like this. Alone, freezing cold and floating among invisible creatures writhing and shrieking in the thrill of fresh meat.
Petrified, Arthur could hardly muster up a fight-or-flight response. Then there was a gigantic dark thing coming at him, its features clearing in the moonlight. An ugly snout smoothing back into slick, dark skin, dead eyes over jaws that could easily take him down. And those jaws were starting to part, their owner circling slightly, following Arthur as he turned a semi-circle in panic. Brief thoughts of freezing, hoping it couldn’t locate him, were crushed. It had seen him, surely.
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The horrible jaws opened, the eel sliding so fast through the water, its momentum alone would crush Arthur. His spine went rigid and chilled as the ghostly shrieks around him increased in pitch and frequency, calling forward his own death. Arthur sucked in what was sure to be his final breath-
-
“He doesn’t get eaten by the eels at this time.”
Portugal’s abrupt change in tone made Brazil blink in surprise. “What?”
“The eel doesn’t get him,” Portugal repeated gently. “I’m explaining to you because you look nervous.”
Brazil looked down to see he was gripping the sheets of his bed a little too tightly, and smoothed them back down. “Well, I wasn’t nervous.” Portugal gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him at all. “Well, maybe I was a little concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”
“Because I can stop now if you want.” Portugal gave him a look, and Brazil felt like a little kid being taken care of.
“No, you could read a little bit more if you want,” he said quickly. “What? You think I can’t handle a stupid fish?”
Portugal smiled, but went back to the book. “‘Do you know what that sound is, Highness?’ The Italian asked cruelly, grinning.”
“We’re past that,” Brazil interrupted. “You read it already.”
“Oh.” Portugal looked taken aback. “Oh my goodness, I did. I’m sorry.” Her eyes traced the pages until she found the correct spot again. “I beg your pardon. Alright, let’s see. Uh, Arthur was in the water, the eel was coming after him. He was frightened. The eel started to charge him, and then-”
-
Arthur saw his life flash before his eyes, except, wait, that wasn’t his life. It was an arm, and a rather large one, coming down onto the eel’s head with a sickening thump and crack. Equally large arms were suddenly around him, lifting him back into the boat.
“Put him down,” Romano ordered. “Just put him down already.” The order was obeyed, and Arthur unceremoniously hit the deck, gasping slightly both at the relief of being alive and the shock of hitting wood so hard.
“I think he’s getting closer,” came the Spaniard’s voice. Arthur wasn’t sure whether to be relieved he was given a moment to compose himself, or annoyed that they weren’t more concerned that he’d just almost been eaten.
Either way, the moment was over soon enough, as the Italian knelt to retie Arthur’s wrists. Trembling with the remnants of life-and-death adrenaline, Arthur put up little fight, only glaring ocular fire at the other man.
“He’s no concern of ours!” Romano called back to Antonio. “Sail on!” He tied the thin ropes tightly, making Arthur winced and attempt to kick at him. “I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you?” he asked, giving Arthur a scathing look.
Arthur gave him just as good right back. “Only compared to some,” he spat smugly. He hadn’t missed Romano unwilling to jump in himself. In fact the man had paled when he realized his companions were unable to do the job. And now, Arthur knew he’d successfully hit a sore spot. Romano grew red in the face, shoved him back against the wood of the boat, and stalked off angrily, but silent.
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Unfff.. I love love love this. I really do. And it makes me.. giddy, to know that Alfred is following behind ready to save him. Oh, and Ivan being called "gigantic land mass".. I laughed. <333
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“Look!” The shout from Antonio pulled Arthur’s attention away from the other boat, but he saw that was exactly what the Spaniard was pointing at. “He’s right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using…” he trailed off thoughtfully.
“Whoever he is, he’s too late,” Romano replied, viciously triumphant. “See? The Cliffs of Insanity!” Arthur swung back for a better look at their destination and saw rock cliffs rising straight up out of the water, impossibly high and without the slightest hint of handholds. They were truly daunting and Arthur wondered what his stupid kidnappers were planning to do with them once they arrived. It wasn’t like the cliffs would offer any safety.
Antonio put on the speed as much as possible, using the wind to direct them straight at the cliffs, making Arthur a little worried they might crash and die right there. He didn’t trust some idiot from Spain not to run them against the sheer rocks and crush the little boat. Only a bit behind, the man in black was closing on them just as quickly.
“Hurry up!” Romano shouted irritably. “Move the thing! No! That other thing! Move it.” He paused in his shouting to glance back. The distance between the two boats was growing, if slowly. “We’re safe! Only Ivan is strong enough to go up our way. He’ll have to sail around for hours until he finds a harbor.”
Everything became movement as they neared the cliffs, and Arthur was surprised to note it looked as though his captors actually knew what they were doing for the first time. The Spaniard had landed them safely alongside the cliffs on a tiny jut of rock. Ivan departed the boat without a word, searching along the cliff face for a moment. Eventually, he came back with a length of rope. Looking up so far it gave him vertigo, Arthur saw distantly it looked to go all the way to the top.
With a kind of efficiency unbefitting of the bumbling idiots Arthur had been dealing with before, Antonio strapped a harness-type device around Ivan, then helped Romano strap himself into it. Seeing he was next, Arthur backed away, but realized there really was nowhere else to go but into the water. Fighting all the way regardless, Arthur semi-allowed himself to be strapped in as well.
Ivan gave Arthur a leering grin as Antonio strapped himself in afterward. Stomach roiling in disgust, Arthur looked away and chanced to glance at the other boat. The boat’s owner was watching them with fascination, still keeping a hold on his boat in the waves crashing against the cliffs. Arthur kind of wished he’d get his lazy arse in gear if he was supposed to be some sort of rescue party.
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As they rose higher and higher, Arthur sort of ran out of options on that, however. If he leaned to far out from Ivan, the balance would be thrown off and he would be left feeling faintly sick and staring down an impossible height to dark waves and sharp rocks. Eventually he had no choice but to close his eyes, clasp a hand in Ivan’s shirt, and pray to God they didn’t fall.
By the time the man in black secured his boat (not well, Arthur noted, slightly hysterical, but enough that he could start after them), Ivan had cleared over a third of the distance. Arthur’s arms were shaking and he could hear the leather of the harness holding him creak ominously every so often. For probably the eight billionth time in the last two days, Arthur cursed his luck. If only Francis could have just left him the fuck alone, he wouldn’t be dangling over sharp rocks, strapped to a disturbing Russian, looking to a mysterious man in black as the only option that might save his life.
Even with his heart in his throat and his stomach somewhere behind him on the ground, Arthur was still impressed by their follower’s determination. He was practically flying up the rope, almost entirely using his upper body strength to pull himself up.
It seemed he’d caught Antonio’s attention as well. “He’s climbing the rope,” the Spaniard noted absently, not sounding nervous in the least. “And he’s gaining on us.”
Romano leaned around Ivan to stare down at the man in black. “Inconceivable!” With that declaration, he prodded Ivan’s shoulder, glowering. The large man nodded and his pace increased marginally, the strain of carrying three extra people clearly affecting his performance.
Romano noticed and was soon yelling at the Russian to move faster. “I thought I was going faster,” Ivan muttered. Arthur could see beads of sweat popping up across his forehead. Oh, God, please don’t let him drop them all. Or at least let one of the useless sods break Arthur’s fall first.
“You were supposed to be this colossus,” Romano growled, eyes narrowed. “You were this great legendary thing. And yet, he gains!” The Italian pointed down at the man in black, who was closing the gap between them rapidly, climbing the rope hand over hand like lightning.
“I’m carrying three people,” Ivan pointed out, quite fairly given the circumstance. “And he’s only got himself.”
“I do not accept excuses!” Romano turned red in his fury, then dropped his voice into such a condescending tone that Arthur felt it was enough to make anyone feel like they were worthless. “I’m just going to have to find myself a new giant, that’s all.”
“Don’t say that, Romano,” Ivan said, sounding the slightest bit hurt, but mostly annoyed. Regardless, his pace had dropped back to what it was when he began. Arthur looked to the man in black, who he could now see also had the top half of his head covered by black cloth. There was perhaps two hundred feet between them at most. Looking up, Arthur saw roughly half that distance until the top of the cliffs. It was a toss-up which distance would be closed first.
“Did I make it clear your job is at stake?” Romano shrieked, noticing the same thing Arthur had.
Arthur kept his eyes down, hoping against hope the man would reach them, but unsure what would happen if he did. Perhaps they would fight, and all be sent plummeting into the waters below. Perhaps he would escape with Arthur intact and whisk him back to Francis. Perhaps Arthur could talk him into letting him go before they reached Florin. Perhaps-
They’d reached the top.
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A shine caught his eye and Arthur saw Romano kneeling beside a large rock, knife most of the way through the thick rope they’d used to climb up. The same rope Arthur’s would-be rescuer was using now.
With a slight slithering sound, the rope raced over the ground and out of sight off the edge of the cliff. Worried, Arthur moved quickly to stand beside Antonio and Ivan as they stood by the cliff’s edge.
“Ha!” Arthur cried triumphantly, spinning to grin fiercely at Romano. He heard Ivan comment on the man’s impressive arm strength behind him, but was more focused on Romano’s fuming face as he joined them looking down.
“He didn’t fall?!” the Italian cried. “Inconceivable!” The man was indeed clinging to the side of the cliff, most likely holding on for dear life, but not falling. He still had about fifty feet ahead between himself and safety, but he’d made it this far.
“You keep using that word,” Antonio interrupted. “I do not think it means what you think it means.” They watched for a few seconds more before Antonio pointed out the obvious but unbelievable. “My God! He’s climbing!”
And so he was. Very slowly, he was picking his way upward, clearly struggling to find decent handholds. It was an inching progress, but he was moving.
Romano twitched faintly in irritation. “Whoever he is, he’s obviously seen us with the Princess and must therefore die.” Arthur glowered at the princess comment and shoved Romano with his still-bound hands, pleased when the movement placed him disconcertingly close to the edge of the cliff.
“You,” Romano said, gesturing to Ivan, “carry him.” Arthur shot Ivan a filthy look, but chose not to fight the order. Turning to Antonio, Romano went on. “We’ll head straight for the Guilder frontier. Catch up when he’s dead. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword.”
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“I want to duel him left-handed.”
The Italian swiveled back to him. “You know what a hurry we’re in,” he started warningly.
“Well, it’s the only way I can be satisfied,” he said, clearly talking about something Arthur didn’t really understand. “If I use my right, tch, over too quickly.” Ah, so he was ambidextrous as well as a skilled swordsman. What a pleasant surprise.
“Oh, have it your way,” Romano gave in finally. The Italian stalked past Arthur, grumbling under his breath and digging in a small patch of scrub brush for a hidden pack. Meanwhile, Ivan made his way toward Antonio, glancing with him over the cliff.
“Be careful,” Ivan warned after a moment. “People in masks cannot be trusted.” Antonio nodded gravely. Arthur rolled his eyes at the unneeded intensity they were giving that bit of information. If the man wanted to wear a mask, so be it.
“I’m waiting!” Romano’s voice was grating, even from a distance. However, it also spurred Ivan into action, and he swung Arthur into a half bridal style hold, which considerably less comfortable than it looked. With that, they were off after Romano, leaving Antonio to deal with Arthur’s potential rescuer.
--
A/N: So...college orientation was fun. Sort of. Anyway, the next part shoulde be up within the week, and sorry for the delay on this one (and the shortness!), but Alfred will be showing up next time!
Also, thank you for your comments, they are lovely! And I'm glad OP is happy with me. ^_^
recaptcha: lover revived Spoiler alert! Al's not really dead!
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This just keeps getting better and better.
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I LOVE THIS FILL TO PIECES. Have you read the book, too?
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I want to ask where your orientation was, b/c coincidences are weird, but I might feel like a creeper, so feel free to ignore this...
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