(no subject)
Title- Truth
Word count- 5007
Rating- K+
Summary- In the Kingdom of Spades, a curse was put over the land. Only soulmates can take the throne, regardless of whether or not you are royalty. However, this curse has a small catch to it.
a/n- sorry if this is late D: I had to kind of rush the end, so sorry again ;_;
|TRUTH|
When Arthur is five years old, Alfred asks to kiss him.
They’re under the tree, only a block from either of their houses. Even in their kingdom, the streets aren’t too safe. It is not as bad as the Kingdom of Clubs, but is a lot worse than the Kingdom of Hearts. That being the case, neither of them are allowed walk too far away from their homes, so they meet halfway when they want to play together instead.
Most of the other kids near Alfred’s house are too old to play with him. Arthur is too stubborn to play with most of the children nearest his house. Somewhere along the line, Alfred decided that Arthur would be his newest friend and Arthur, miraculously, didn’t begrudge him for some reason.
“What kind of tree is this?” Alfred asks, eyes wide with enthusiasm as he pushes his small hands up against the twisted bark.
Alfred is four years old and has all the curiosity and mischief of one multiplied by his age. Arthur takes it in as he goes along, learns it with ease, but at his own pace. Alfred needs to touch everything, break everything, know everything or else he wont understand and Alfred hates not understanding.
“A Spades tree,” Arthur answers, scooping so-shaped leaves from the ground to show, “See, it’s named because it looks like a spade and this is the only kingdom in which it grows.” He lets them go and they flutter to the ground lifelessly.
The both move funny and their noses bump. Arthur wrinkles up his face and Alfred huffs, his breath coming down strangely on the other’s lips.
“We should kiss,” Alfred breathes and Arthur narrows his eyes as he turns his head away from the irritating feeling.
“No we shouldn’t,” Arthur grumbles, ripping up the leaf.
“Why not?” Alfred is blowing out his cheeks like a puffer fish and Arthur would laugh only he is being preposterous and he does not wish to encourage him.
“It’s silly, that’s why,” Arthur says as he yanks Alfred down to sit beside him, quietly hopefully.
They’re silent for a few more minutes. The spade shaped leaves flutter off of the trees and they spread themselves at the feet of the two children. The light is dimming and neither of them want to go back to their respective homes so they silently wish for the sun to never set. Alfred twines his fingers around Arthur’s and Arthur gives him that, allows him that.
“I don’t get it,” Alfred sighs and Arthur knows the subject hasn’t changed.
“You don’t have to get it,” he explains, “You just need to know it.”
-x-
When Arthur is nine years old, Alfred almost kisses him.
They’re under their tree again, delighted in the summer evenings with their later curfews and longer days. Arthur knows how to read and Alfred pretends he doesn’t so Arthur will read to him underneath the shade of the Spade’s tree. Sometimes leaves fall on to the pages that they are reading and Arthur laughs, brushing them off.
Alfred still likes running though. He likes pretend games and adventures that seemingly go for miles when they only go for feet. He likes climbing up the tree and swinging down like the superheroes his kingdom doesn’t need. He has gotten many a bruise for that and Arthur constantly scolds him, to no avail.
That is how it happens. Alfred tumbles out of the tree, mid climb, with a yelp and a flail. Arthur is still sitting underneath the tree, his newest book, a hardback, spread out on his lap. He no longer struggles with words, so he’s just about to turn the page when Alfred hits him.
The tumble out from underneath the tree and then, with the momentum, end up toppling down the hill, screeching and rolling with limbs flying everywhere. They land at the bottom of the bank and Alfred’s lips hit Arthur’s cheek.
They stay like that for a few moments, Alfred chuckling and Arthur trying and failing not to. Neither of them notice their position until they both go home and then it is put out of both of their minds when they realise that, next summer, they wont be together.
-x-
When Arthur is ten years old, he has to go away.
It’s a custom in the Kingdom of Spades. There have been too many problems with princes and princesses growing up spoiled rotten and being horrible kings and queens because of it. It’s for this reason that, regardless of any children the king and queen may have together, two children are picked from the kingdom’s school to be the heirs to the throne. Two new heirs, a prince and a princess, are picked roughly every fifty years from the schools. Arthur doesn’t know how they do this yet; he is scared and confused and he doesn’t want to leave his mother and Alfred to go to this school in the city. He has no choice though; every child must go eventually and it will be Alfred’s turn next year.
It may not even be his year that a king or queen is picked out of; he has no way of telling sine he doesn’t know how they are chosen. Arthur doesn’t want to be king anyways; he tries to tell his mother this, but she tells him that it doesn’t come into it. He has to go.
Alfred clings to his arm the whole way down to the bus stop in May. At nine years old, he doesn’t want Arthur to see any of the hot tears that roll down his face so he buries his face into the elder’s sleeve. Arthur will later examine the wet patches there with a fond smile he will deny he wore later one.
“You don’t have to go,” Alfred whispers into his ear with fervor, “You could run away with me! Hide under my bed; no one would have to know. I could sneak you food!”
Arthur smiles at him and ruffles his hair. He wishes he could agree with Alfred, but even at ten he is years more sensible than him. “Surely the monsters under your bed would eat me and the food?” he chuckles lightly, hoisting his rucksack up further on his back. He can feel the scones his mother baked for him rustle inside.
Alfred’s mouth makes an ‘o’. “Y-you’d get them though,” he tries to laugh- it had not been Arthur’s intentions to give his friend nightmares, “I know you would; you’re not scared of anything!”
Arthur smiles and wishes that were true. “The you know that I’m not scared of this then,” he lies, his fingers crossed underneath the strap of his bag.
Alfred sighs and juts out his bottom lip. “I guess,” he drolls, still gripping on to Arthur’s arm.
They arrive at the bus stop and Arthur gently pulls his arm away from Alfred. Blinking, the other looks lost as he squints in the sunlight, having been used to the darkness of Arthur’s sleeve against his face. “We’re here already?” he complains, rubbing his eyes.
Arthur nods and turns to his mother. She has been silent the whole journey down. She smiles and kisses him on the cheek and that is enough to tell Arthur that, no matter how much she insisted that he go, she never wanted her last child to leave, not yet not ever. “Have fun,” she murmurs in his ear and he knows he will not.
“Goodbye,” he says because he does not want to kick up a fuss and he turns to where the bus is waiting.
He only gets one foot on it before he’s bombarded, the cry of ‘Arthuuur, waaaaait,’ almost drowned out by the hefty lump of child raining down on him. Arthur’s eyes widen as Alfred’s lips connect with his cheek, smack over where his mother had kissed him moments before.
“To say goodbye,” is Alfred’s only explanation and it is the only one Arthur asks for as his smiles and steps on to the bus once again.
He’ll get three weeks in the school without having to wash that spot on his cheek; the matron will no doubt notice eventually and force him to scrub it until it is red and raw and he feels lost inside.
-x-
When Arthur is almost eleven, he is told how the choosing of the King and Queen occurs.
His school years will be a test of sorts. A test to see who can find their soulmate. Once a Spade’s citizen kisses their true love, it seems, markings will appear on them to signify that they are one of the select few who may be chosen to be the rulers of the kingdom for the next half a century. Arthur is still not sure how they choose it from there one; surely everyone will just kiss everyone and eventually find their soulmate and there still needs to be a choosing.
When he voices this question, he is disheartened to hear a few titters at the back of the class. His head droops a little but his teacher still gives him a wide smile and explains it further to him and to some others who wished to know the same thing but just didn’t ask.
“Not everyone’s soulmate will be a citizen of the Kingdom of Spades,” she tells them and people coo dramatically, “Your soulmate could be a million miles away in the Kingdom of Clubs or even just next door in the Kingdom of Diamonds. However, if that is the case, you are not eligible to become a ruler of the Kingdom of Spades as both rulers must be citizens here.”
Arthur nods. He understands this. But, all in all, will this narrow the numbers down considerably? Surely there are years and years of students to choose from; not all of them can have true loves outside of the Spade’s Kingdom, right? Mathematically, that still leaves a quarter of them there and that is still hundreds of possible rulers.
He says this and this time there is no tittering. Everyone else is just as confused. But the teacher is smiling.
“There is a catch,” she admits, her blue eyes skittering across the classroom, over all the bemused and befuddled faces. “You see, you only get one shot at determining your true love.”
There is uproar then. People are questioning her, looking at each other in bewilderment and everyone is wondering how the hell you know who your true love is anyways, especially if you don’t kiss them first. She waits patiently until they have all calmed down before she continues explaining.
“You see, long ago, a spell was cast over this kingdom. You may remember this; your parents probably told you about this tale.”
Arthur knows it. His mother told him and he had told it to Alfred, took in his wide eyes and huge grin at being told anything magical, despite thinking magic was for girls.
“A Spade’s mage was bested by the Prince of Spades at the time. The mage’s magic had been faulty in a challenge and the prince had called him out on it. Now, the story probably would have ended there only the prince didn’t stop there. He ridiculed the mage and made him the laughing stock of the kingdom, all for one little mistake he made.”
Arthur nods along. He remembers his mother telling him this part, in more detail, and him on the edge of his bed, pillow in hand, willing the prince to just let it go and walk away before anything bad happened.
“Well, the mage showed the prince that he was not a complete fake,” the teacher continues, “by casting a spell over the kingdom of spades. The spell was that only two soulmates could take over the throne of Spades. It was meant specifically for the prince as, having been forced into an arranged marriage some months prior, could no longer take the throne lest he want to be cursed. He went mad with spite to the mage and was unfit to take the throne, whether he found his soulmate or not.”
Arthur sighs. If only he had listened to the wise words of a toddler close to sleep.
“So, this school was set up to find two heirs to the throne before the King and Queen’s reign ended. Even now, lest we awaken the curse once again, heirs are always found in this school as they will be identified by the markings labeling them as soulmates; it was the mage’s only form of goodwill towards the Spade’s people that he allow this one loophole.”
Arthur remembers seeing a strange marking on his mother’s arm when he was little. When he’d questioned she told him it was a birthmark but now he wasn’t so sure.
“However, the catch is quite a bad one,” the teacher warns. Some students are asleep on their desks. The ones who are awake are on the edges of their seats. “The kiss your soulmate takes must be the first for both of you or else the markings will not show and you will not be able to have a chance at the throne or even know who your soulmate is.”
A girl starts crying at the back of the class. Her first kiss has been already taken and her markings have not appeared. A boy mutters a curse word and there is a chorus of ‘oooooooh’s around him. The teacher ignores the profanity for once and simply taps the side of her nose.
“Choose wisely, children.”
-x-
When Arthur is eleven, Alfred comes to the school.
They are delighted to see each other; letters were definitely never enough. Arthur only wishes he could see his mother as well; she writes every other day but he still misses her like crazy, especially now that his last brother and his sister have finished their final year now.
Alfred has somehow grown taller than him in the year they’ve been apart and Arthur cant even get the strength to wrestle out of the bear hug Alfred puts him into when he comes barricading in through his dorm room door, demanding to swap places with Arthur’s current and bemused roommate. Arthur just laughs and eventually gives in and hugs him back. When Alfred pulls back and smiles, Arthur notices that he’s lost his front tooth.
But when Alfred tries to kiss him, on the cheek, Arthur turns away with a laugh and starts to help unpack Alfred’s things, pretending he didn’t just see how his face drooped.
-x-
When Arthur is thirteen years old, he finds a girl crying.
Alfred has settled in nicely in the school and he no longer has nightmares. That doesn’t stop him crawling into Arthur’s bed some nights though; he has a million excuses for doing that. However, he must have gotten the talk on how the monarchy get chosen as well, because since that first day, he has not tried to kiss him. Arthur is not complaining about that, of course; Alfred still hugs him and is still his friend, therefore he is content.
Alfred has his own friends now, but he still makes time for Arthur. When he cant, however, Arthur finds solace in the school’s library.
The school library is where he finds the girl crying. He hears her choked sobs from the moment he comes in the door. He glances over at the librarian- it’s a senior, and he’s asleep on the desk, glasses askew. He sets the books he is returning down on the desk, gently so as not to wake him, and walks in the direction of the crying.
The girl is blonde and she has buried her head in her hands and her hands in her skirts; her whole body is shaking. Arthur, not knowing what to do, edges forward awkwardly. She jolts, raising her head, when he places a hand on her shoulder to still her shaking.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently, but he already knows that she is not.
She stares at him. Her eyes are bloodshot and red rimmed, her mascara running down her face in streaks. Her cheeks are glistening under the bad lighting, the artificial sun catching the droplets as they glimmer. “No,” she admits.
Arthur kneels down then, in front of her. He has had very little experience talking to girls in general and he absolutely has no idea what to do with one when they are crying. He pats her on the head and she gives him a confused look; whoops, guess that was only appropriate for dogs. “There there,” he tries and she manages a smile before her eyes overflow with tears again and Arthur wonders if he said something wrong.
“I thought for sure,” she says and her voice breaks halfway through, “That he would be the one. I let him kiss me; I thought…I thought..,” she breaks off with another choked sob.
Arthur’s not sure what the right thing to say is. “You thought…wrong?” he asks, wincing automatically because it sounded so harsh. But she smiles at him anyways, so she must know he’s trying.
“Yeah. I thought wrong.”
-x-
When Arthur is almost fifteen years old, two things happen.
One thing is that he resigns himself to believing that his soulmate must be from another kingdom. All of his classmates are nice and most of them are friendly towards him, none being outright cruel, but nothing happens. He is not interested in hugging, kissing or dating anyone out of his class or even anyone so far he has met in the school. The only person who is allowed have any sort of physical contact with him is Alfred and Alfred is his friend so that is okay.
However, that brings us to the second thing, which is when Alfred tries to kiss him again.
“We should try it,” Alfred begins one night. He had crawled into Arthur’s bed an hour ago, far too tall for this carry on now but Arthur could never find it in himself to refuse him. “You know, kissing.”
Arthur stiffens, and edges away slightly, glowering at Alfred from under heavy brows. “No, we shouldn’t,” he answers.
Alfred grins. “But you already said your soulmate is possibly from another kingdom,” he insisted, “So what’s the harm in trying it?”
Arthur feels a twinge in his chest at that. “Are you honestly going to put your chance at being King at risk just to use me as target practice,” Arthur asks incredulously. His eyes must give him away, or maybe his tone of voice, because Alfred’s face droops and his eyes widen as he flails a little on the mattress.
“That’s not what I meant, Artie,” he insists, but Arthur turns around in the bed so he’s facing the wall.
“Save it, Alfred,” he replies and he’s not sure if he means Alfred’s words or kisses.
There is silence for ages. It could be hours and Arthur thinks Alfred is asleep and that is all well and good for Alfred because Arthur cant sleep. He has to much to think about, too much swimming around his head and he’s too hot but he cant pull off the covers lest he awaken Alfred.
“You know, I don’t like anyone else either,” Alfred whispers, so soft it might not have happened, and Arthur jolts.
He does not allow himself to think of that ‘else.’ Not at all.
-x-
When Arthur is fifteen, he definitely does not think of an ‘else.’
He is walking down the corridors of the school one day when he sees Alfred and a girl. It is the seventh student he has seen Alfred with is six months and like every other time he saw him, Alfred kisses the girl (sometimes boys, Arthur didn’t take much notice) on the cheek.
Arthur freezes as the two go their separate ways and Alfred comes walking towards him, hands in his pockets and smile on his face. Arthur can remember when the little boy who asked him what trees were called grew up.
“Hey Artie,” he grins and pats Arthur on the shoulder, not even noticing how he tenses up with physical contact, not even noticing that he didn’t give Arthur a kiss on the cheek; he hasn’t in a long time.
Arthur mopes through all of his afternoon classes, mopes around his dorm room when Alfred doesn’t come home and takes all the covers so Alfred cant sneak into his bed at whatever time he actually comes back at.
Alfred is not his soulmate, Arthur thinks, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting him to be.
-x-
When Arthur is fifteen and a half years old, he notices that his mother stopped writing.
At first, he is worried. Yes, her letters has become more infrequent over the years but he had just presumed she had stopped being such a mother hen over every little thing her youngest did. Now though, he wonders if she was sick the whole time and now something bad as happened to her. To calm his nerves, he writes to his brother to ask about his mother and the reply he gets says that she is fine, but busy.
He realises that his mother simply forgot to write to him, like Alfred forgets to talk to him now.
He gets another letter with apologies all over it in a week and a package with his mother’s cooking inside. It’s more than he gets from Alfred.
-x-
When Arthur is sixteen, he notices girls going around in sleeveless tops.
The markings on their arms are unusual. They are not the same as the ones he saw on his mother all those years ago, so he presumes she had been telling the truth about it being a birthmark. They are blue and heart shaped; heart shaped in a sense that they actually resemble the human anatomy and not the doodle kids draw on their school books. It almost looks like it’s bleeding or dripping or even running. It’s tiny, but you always notice it; it’s like it shines.
Arthur starts wearing long sleeve shirts.
-x-
When Arthur is almost seventeen, there is an annual school dance.
It’s held every year for the older students, sixteen and older. Other kids always snuck in and were rarely caught but most didn’t bother. Most of the older ones never bothered anyways; school dances were boring.
Also, it didn’t help that it had a reputation of being a trap. Loved up and dancing to music, what are young and apparently in love couples going to do but kiss? And chances are they’re not going to be so lucky as to kiss their soulmate. It will lead to Arthur finding many more girls crying in the library, but it is a trick they should have known not to fall for, so he has little sympathy.
They will make the wrong choice.
Arthur doesn’t bring a date to the dance; there is no one he wants to go with and girls are not likely to ask him. He sits at the back of the room, on the floor, nursing a cup of what he knows is spiked punch. He watches everyone, girls wearing their sleeveless dresses to either show off their marks or wait for them to appear. He self consciously tugs on his sleeve, rubbing where his mark isn’t.
He stares across the room and doesn’t notice the person approaching him until he is tapped on the shoulder. He looks up and sees that the person is wearing a mask.
“Will you dance with me?” he asks, his voice a fake gruff like he’s trying to conceal how young he is or something, Arthur doesn’t know. Maybe he is too young to be here and doesn’t want anyone to catch him. Anyways, Arthur stands and nods.
“This is not a masked ball, you know,” he says as the other drags him to the dance floor. He would have much preferred to dance lightly over by the door where he would not be seen; he cant dance very well.
“I know,” the other replies as he takes Arthur’s left hand in his and fixes their arms around each other on Arthur’s right, “But what is the fun in you knowing who I am?”
Arthur frowns and lets the other sway him from side to side. He’s not the only person dancing with another man, he notes. There are two other couples on either side of the floor and some girls dancing with each other and giggling as well. He’s paying so much attention to them, he doesn’t notice the other’s face leaning in until it’s almost too late.
Their lips are millimeters apart when Arthur lets out a silent shrieking noise of shock as he pushes himself away and topples backwards. There is silence in the room except for the music playing and a few titters from girls who saw the exchange. Arthur sits up and his back hurts from the fall but not so much that he cant muster a glare at the other who appears just as shocked as he.
“What do you think you’re doing,” Arthur hissed, struggling up from the ground and ignoring the helping hand the masked man is trying to hand him.
“S-sorry, Artie, I just thought,” he tried but failed as his voice alteration did not shine through and Arthur saw.
“Alfred, just be quiet,” he growled as he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Alfred struggling to take the mask off behind him.
-x-
Arthur is seventeen when he kind of has to accept Alfred’s apology.
Alfred has tried catching him in corridors, waiting up until Arthur comes back from the library at night, trying to wake up before him in the mornings and even leaving messages saying ‘I’m sorry ):’ in his bed and drawer. Arthur has been avoiding him like the plague, but even he cant escape the fact that they’re roommates.
“I cant sleep,” Alfred says and it wakes Arthur up from a restless slumber.
“Why?” Arthur asks, groggy and forgetting that he’s supposed to be mad.
He watches as Alfred shuffles from foot to foot. “Because you're mad at me,” he says finally, “Can I sleep with you?”
Arthur contemplates this. He has been angry for about two months now and this is an all new low for Alfred to stoop to. He sighs. “You’re sixteen years old, Alfred,” he huffs, “You dont need me to comfort you every time something goes wrong.”
Alfred stops shuffling and stares at the ground, his hands intertwined and picking at his nails nervously. Then, forcefully, he gets into Arthur’s bed, permission or not, and pulls the covers over them both with an exasperated sigh. Arthur huffs and rolls over, not having much of a choice.
“You’re wrong,” Alfred tries when they are both lying as comfortably as they can on their backs; they are both far too old for this sharing business. Arthur turns his head to him, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, but that proves to be rather hard as Alfred climbs over him, staring at him with eyes that make Arthur want to melt and get sick at the same time. “I do need you.”
Arthur will later use the excuse that he was taken off guard, that he didn’t expect it. But what use will it be? The fact will still remain that, at that moment, he let Alfred steal both of their first kisses.
Arthur cant breathe very well. Alfred is pressing down on his chest and he cant move; his lips are covered by Alfred’s too and it’s hard to breathe through his nose. He tries to shuffle away, but he cant. Alfred is an enthusiastic kisser, but not what Arthur would call a good one but again, that hardly matters as he feels like he’s burning all over and he wants to scream, but he cant find the breath. He feels like he’s tied to a stake and someone has a lighter at his feet, burning him, cackling at him. He wonders if this is happening to Alfred too and it would serve him right for ruining their…his own life. Everything hurts and he wonders if this is what it feels like when you fall into the curse. He’ll never know what his markings would have looked like.
And neither will Alfred.
That is the only thing that gives him the power to push Alfred off of him at that moment. He resigns to panting as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression falling into a scowl as he glares at Alfred with as much malice as he can muster for him. Alfred just looks confused, an endearing thing that Arthur wont let himself think about.
“Idiot,” he growls, “You just ruined your bloody life.”
Alfred stays silent through Arthur’s tirade, his eyes fixed elsewhere and Arthur takes that for him not understanding. He puts his two hands on Alfred’s shoulders, gripping them tightly, leaving marks in his t-shirt and creases in the neck of it and shakes him. “You just ruined your life! Don’t you get it, you bloody idiot?!”
Alfred’s eyes are not looking at Arthur’s face, but his shoulder. Arthur follows his gaze.
His arm is blue. His markings are right there, plain as day.
“You bloody knew,” Arthur blinks, taking his hands off of Alfred to trace the mark. “How did you know?”
Maybe they wont become King and…Queen or King? But that doesn’t even matter when Alfred wraps himself around Arthur and Arthur actually allows him to once again. Nothing else matters; all that matters is that Alfred was actually right and Arthur cant believe it. Alfred kisses him again and Arthur lets him, actually lets him with not fuss, no hassle nothing. There’s no burning either; it’s over.
“I always knew.”
|END|
Word count- 5007
Rating- K+
Summary- In the Kingdom of Spades, a curse was put over the land. Only soulmates can take the throne, regardless of whether or not you are royalty. However, this curse has a small catch to it.
a/n- sorry if this is late D: I had to kind of rush the end, so sorry again ;_;
|TRUTH|
When Arthur is five years old, Alfred asks to kiss him.
They’re under the tree, only a block from either of their houses. Even in their kingdom, the streets aren’t too safe. It is not as bad as the Kingdom of Clubs, but is a lot worse than the Kingdom of Hearts. That being the case, neither of them are allowed walk too far away from their homes, so they meet halfway when they want to play together instead.
Most of the other kids near Alfred’s house are too old to play with him. Arthur is too stubborn to play with most of the children nearest his house. Somewhere along the line, Alfred decided that Arthur would be his newest friend and Arthur, miraculously, didn’t begrudge him for some reason.
“What kind of tree is this?” Alfred asks, eyes wide with enthusiasm as he pushes his small hands up against the twisted bark.
Alfred is four years old and has all the curiosity and mischief of one multiplied by his age. Arthur takes it in as he goes along, learns it with ease, but at his own pace. Alfred needs to touch everything, break everything, know everything or else he wont understand and Alfred hates not understanding.
“A Spades tree,” Arthur answers, scooping so-shaped leaves from the ground to show, “See, it’s named because it looks like a spade and this is the only kingdom in which it grows.” He lets them go and they flutter to the ground lifelessly.
The both move funny and their noses bump. Arthur wrinkles up his face and Alfred huffs, his breath coming down strangely on the other’s lips.
“We should kiss,” Alfred breathes and Arthur narrows his eyes as he turns his head away from the irritating feeling.
“No we shouldn’t,” Arthur grumbles, ripping up the leaf.
“Why not?” Alfred is blowing out his cheeks like a puffer fish and Arthur would laugh only he is being preposterous and he does not wish to encourage him.
“It’s silly, that’s why,” Arthur says as he yanks Alfred down to sit beside him, quietly hopefully.
They’re silent for a few more minutes. The spade shaped leaves flutter off of the trees and they spread themselves at the feet of the two children. The light is dimming and neither of them want to go back to their respective homes so they silently wish for the sun to never set. Alfred twines his fingers around Arthur’s and Arthur gives him that, allows him that.
“I don’t get it,” Alfred sighs and Arthur knows the subject hasn’t changed.
“You don’t have to get it,” he explains, “You just need to know it.”
-x-
When Arthur is nine years old, Alfred almost kisses him.
They’re under their tree again, delighted in the summer evenings with their later curfews and longer days. Arthur knows how to read and Alfred pretends he doesn’t so Arthur will read to him underneath the shade of the Spade’s tree. Sometimes leaves fall on to the pages that they are reading and Arthur laughs, brushing them off.
Alfred still likes running though. He likes pretend games and adventures that seemingly go for miles when they only go for feet. He likes climbing up the tree and swinging down like the superheroes his kingdom doesn’t need. He has gotten many a bruise for that and Arthur constantly scolds him, to no avail.
That is how it happens. Alfred tumbles out of the tree, mid climb, with a yelp and a flail. Arthur is still sitting underneath the tree, his newest book, a hardback, spread out on his lap. He no longer struggles with words, so he’s just about to turn the page when Alfred hits him.
The tumble out from underneath the tree and then, with the momentum, end up toppling down the hill, screeching and rolling with limbs flying everywhere. They land at the bottom of the bank and Alfred’s lips hit Arthur’s cheek.
They stay like that for a few moments, Alfred chuckling and Arthur trying and failing not to. Neither of them notice their position until they both go home and then it is put out of both of their minds when they realise that, next summer, they wont be together.
-x-
When Arthur is ten years old, he has to go away.
It’s a custom in the Kingdom of Spades. There have been too many problems with princes and princesses growing up spoiled rotten and being horrible kings and queens because of it. It’s for this reason that, regardless of any children the king and queen may have together, two children are picked from the kingdom’s school to be the heirs to the throne. Two new heirs, a prince and a princess, are picked roughly every fifty years from the schools. Arthur doesn’t know how they do this yet; he is scared and confused and he doesn’t want to leave his mother and Alfred to go to this school in the city. He has no choice though; every child must go eventually and it will be Alfred’s turn next year.
It may not even be his year that a king or queen is picked out of; he has no way of telling sine he doesn’t know how they are chosen. Arthur doesn’t want to be king anyways; he tries to tell his mother this, but she tells him that it doesn’t come into it. He has to go.
Alfred clings to his arm the whole way down to the bus stop in May. At nine years old, he doesn’t want Arthur to see any of the hot tears that roll down his face so he buries his face into the elder’s sleeve. Arthur will later examine the wet patches there with a fond smile he will deny he wore later one.
“You don’t have to go,” Alfred whispers into his ear with fervor, “You could run away with me! Hide under my bed; no one would have to know. I could sneak you food!”
Arthur smiles at him and ruffles his hair. He wishes he could agree with Alfred, but even at ten he is years more sensible than him. “Surely the monsters under your bed would eat me and the food?” he chuckles lightly, hoisting his rucksack up further on his back. He can feel the scones his mother baked for him rustle inside.
Alfred’s mouth makes an ‘o’. “Y-you’d get them though,” he tries to laugh- it had not been Arthur’s intentions to give his friend nightmares, “I know you would; you’re not scared of anything!”
Arthur smiles and wishes that were true. “The you know that I’m not scared of this then,” he lies, his fingers crossed underneath the strap of his bag.
Alfred sighs and juts out his bottom lip. “I guess,” he drolls, still gripping on to Arthur’s arm.
They arrive at the bus stop and Arthur gently pulls his arm away from Alfred. Blinking, the other looks lost as he squints in the sunlight, having been used to the darkness of Arthur’s sleeve against his face. “We’re here already?” he complains, rubbing his eyes.
Arthur nods and turns to his mother. She has been silent the whole journey down. She smiles and kisses him on the cheek and that is enough to tell Arthur that, no matter how much she insisted that he go, she never wanted her last child to leave, not yet not ever. “Have fun,” she murmurs in his ear and he knows he will not.
“Goodbye,” he says because he does not want to kick up a fuss and he turns to where the bus is waiting.
He only gets one foot on it before he’s bombarded, the cry of ‘Arthuuur, waaaaait,’ almost drowned out by the hefty lump of child raining down on him. Arthur’s eyes widen as Alfred’s lips connect with his cheek, smack over where his mother had kissed him moments before.
“To say goodbye,” is Alfred’s only explanation and it is the only one Arthur asks for as his smiles and steps on to the bus once again.
He’ll get three weeks in the school without having to wash that spot on his cheek; the matron will no doubt notice eventually and force him to scrub it until it is red and raw and he feels lost inside.
-x-
When Arthur is almost eleven, he is told how the choosing of the King and Queen occurs.
His school years will be a test of sorts. A test to see who can find their soulmate. Once a Spade’s citizen kisses their true love, it seems, markings will appear on them to signify that they are one of the select few who may be chosen to be the rulers of the kingdom for the next half a century. Arthur is still not sure how they choose it from there one; surely everyone will just kiss everyone and eventually find their soulmate and there still needs to be a choosing.
When he voices this question, he is disheartened to hear a few titters at the back of the class. His head droops a little but his teacher still gives him a wide smile and explains it further to him and to some others who wished to know the same thing but just didn’t ask.
“Not everyone’s soulmate will be a citizen of the Kingdom of Spades,” she tells them and people coo dramatically, “Your soulmate could be a million miles away in the Kingdom of Clubs or even just next door in the Kingdom of Diamonds. However, if that is the case, you are not eligible to become a ruler of the Kingdom of Spades as both rulers must be citizens here.”
Arthur nods. He understands this. But, all in all, will this narrow the numbers down considerably? Surely there are years and years of students to choose from; not all of them can have true loves outside of the Spade’s Kingdom, right? Mathematically, that still leaves a quarter of them there and that is still hundreds of possible rulers.
He says this and this time there is no tittering. Everyone else is just as confused. But the teacher is smiling.
“There is a catch,” she admits, her blue eyes skittering across the classroom, over all the bemused and befuddled faces. “You see, you only get one shot at determining your true love.”
There is uproar then. People are questioning her, looking at each other in bewilderment and everyone is wondering how the hell you know who your true love is anyways, especially if you don’t kiss them first. She waits patiently until they have all calmed down before she continues explaining.
“You see, long ago, a spell was cast over this kingdom. You may remember this; your parents probably told you about this tale.”
Arthur knows it. His mother told him and he had told it to Alfred, took in his wide eyes and huge grin at being told anything magical, despite thinking magic was for girls.
“A Spade’s mage was bested by the Prince of Spades at the time. The mage’s magic had been faulty in a challenge and the prince had called him out on it. Now, the story probably would have ended there only the prince didn’t stop there. He ridiculed the mage and made him the laughing stock of the kingdom, all for one little mistake he made.”
Arthur nods along. He remembers his mother telling him this part, in more detail, and him on the edge of his bed, pillow in hand, willing the prince to just let it go and walk away before anything bad happened.
“Well, the mage showed the prince that he was not a complete fake,” the teacher continues, “by casting a spell over the kingdom of spades. The spell was that only two soulmates could take over the throne of Spades. It was meant specifically for the prince as, having been forced into an arranged marriage some months prior, could no longer take the throne lest he want to be cursed. He went mad with spite to the mage and was unfit to take the throne, whether he found his soulmate or not.”
Arthur sighs. If only he had listened to the wise words of a toddler close to sleep.
“So, this school was set up to find two heirs to the throne before the King and Queen’s reign ended. Even now, lest we awaken the curse once again, heirs are always found in this school as they will be identified by the markings labeling them as soulmates; it was the mage’s only form of goodwill towards the Spade’s people that he allow this one loophole.”
Arthur remembers seeing a strange marking on his mother’s arm when he was little. When he’d questioned she told him it was a birthmark but now he wasn’t so sure.
“However, the catch is quite a bad one,” the teacher warns. Some students are asleep on their desks. The ones who are awake are on the edges of their seats. “The kiss your soulmate takes must be the first for both of you or else the markings will not show and you will not be able to have a chance at the throne or even know who your soulmate is.”
A girl starts crying at the back of the class. Her first kiss has been already taken and her markings have not appeared. A boy mutters a curse word and there is a chorus of ‘oooooooh’s around him. The teacher ignores the profanity for once and simply taps the side of her nose.
“Choose wisely, children.”
-x-
When Arthur is eleven, Alfred comes to the school.
They are delighted to see each other; letters were definitely never enough. Arthur only wishes he could see his mother as well; she writes every other day but he still misses her like crazy, especially now that his last brother and his sister have finished their final year now.
Alfred has somehow grown taller than him in the year they’ve been apart and Arthur cant even get the strength to wrestle out of the bear hug Alfred puts him into when he comes barricading in through his dorm room door, demanding to swap places with Arthur’s current and bemused roommate. Arthur just laughs and eventually gives in and hugs him back. When Alfred pulls back and smiles, Arthur notices that he’s lost his front tooth.
But when Alfred tries to kiss him, on the cheek, Arthur turns away with a laugh and starts to help unpack Alfred’s things, pretending he didn’t just see how his face drooped.
-x-
When Arthur is thirteen years old, he finds a girl crying.
Alfred has settled in nicely in the school and he no longer has nightmares. That doesn’t stop him crawling into Arthur’s bed some nights though; he has a million excuses for doing that. However, he must have gotten the talk on how the monarchy get chosen as well, because since that first day, he has not tried to kiss him. Arthur is not complaining about that, of course; Alfred still hugs him and is still his friend, therefore he is content.
Alfred has his own friends now, but he still makes time for Arthur. When he cant, however, Arthur finds solace in the school’s library.
The school library is where he finds the girl crying. He hears her choked sobs from the moment he comes in the door. He glances over at the librarian- it’s a senior, and he’s asleep on the desk, glasses askew. He sets the books he is returning down on the desk, gently so as not to wake him, and walks in the direction of the crying.
The girl is blonde and she has buried her head in her hands and her hands in her skirts; her whole body is shaking. Arthur, not knowing what to do, edges forward awkwardly. She jolts, raising her head, when he places a hand on her shoulder to still her shaking.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently, but he already knows that she is not.
She stares at him. Her eyes are bloodshot and red rimmed, her mascara running down her face in streaks. Her cheeks are glistening under the bad lighting, the artificial sun catching the droplets as they glimmer. “No,” she admits.
Arthur kneels down then, in front of her. He has had very little experience talking to girls in general and he absolutely has no idea what to do with one when they are crying. He pats her on the head and she gives him a confused look; whoops, guess that was only appropriate for dogs. “There there,” he tries and she manages a smile before her eyes overflow with tears again and Arthur wonders if he said something wrong.
“I thought for sure,” she says and her voice breaks halfway through, “That he would be the one. I let him kiss me; I thought…I thought..,” she breaks off with another choked sob.
Arthur’s not sure what the right thing to say is. “You thought…wrong?” he asks, wincing automatically because it sounded so harsh. But she smiles at him anyways, so she must know he’s trying.
“Yeah. I thought wrong.”
-x-
When Arthur is almost fifteen years old, two things happen.
One thing is that he resigns himself to believing that his soulmate must be from another kingdom. All of his classmates are nice and most of them are friendly towards him, none being outright cruel, but nothing happens. He is not interested in hugging, kissing or dating anyone out of his class or even anyone so far he has met in the school. The only person who is allowed have any sort of physical contact with him is Alfred and Alfred is his friend so that is okay.
However, that brings us to the second thing, which is when Alfred tries to kiss him again.
“We should try it,” Alfred begins one night. He had crawled into Arthur’s bed an hour ago, far too tall for this carry on now but Arthur could never find it in himself to refuse him. “You know, kissing.”
Arthur stiffens, and edges away slightly, glowering at Alfred from under heavy brows. “No, we shouldn’t,” he answers.
Alfred grins. “But you already said your soulmate is possibly from another kingdom,” he insisted, “So what’s the harm in trying it?”
Arthur feels a twinge in his chest at that. “Are you honestly going to put your chance at being King at risk just to use me as target practice,” Arthur asks incredulously. His eyes must give him away, or maybe his tone of voice, because Alfred’s face droops and his eyes widen as he flails a little on the mattress.
“That’s not what I meant, Artie,” he insists, but Arthur turns around in the bed so he’s facing the wall.
“Save it, Alfred,” he replies and he’s not sure if he means Alfred’s words or kisses.
There is silence for ages. It could be hours and Arthur thinks Alfred is asleep and that is all well and good for Alfred because Arthur cant sleep. He has to much to think about, too much swimming around his head and he’s too hot but he cant pull off the covers lest he awaken Alfred.
“You know, I don’t like anyone else either,” Alfred whispers, so soft it might not have happened, and Arthur jolts.
He does not allow himself to think of that ‘else.’ Not at all.
-x-
When Arthur is fifteen, he definitely does not think of an ‘else.’
He is walking down the corridors of the school one day when he sees Alfred and a girl. It is the seventh student he has seen Alfred with is six months and like every other time he saw him, Alfred kisses the girl (sometimes boys, Arthur didn’t take much notice) on the cheek.
Arthur freezes as the two go their separate ways and Alfred comes walking towards him, hands in his pockets and smile on his face. Arthur can remember when the little boy who asked him what trees were called grew up.
“Hey Artie,” he grins and pats Arthur on the shoulder, not even noticing how he tenses up with physical contact, not even noticing that he didn’t give Arthur a kiss on the cheek; he hasn’t in a long time.
Arthur mopes through all of his afternoon classes, mopes around his dorm room when Alfred doesn’t come home and takes all the covers so Alfred cant sneak into his bed at whatever time he actually comes back at.
Alfred is not his soulmate, Arthur thinks, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting him to be.
-x-
When Arthur is fifteen and a half years old, he notices that his mother stopped writing.
At first, he is worried. Yes, her letters has become more infrequent over the years but he had just presumed she had stopped being such a mother hen over every little thing her youngest did. Now though, he wonders if she was sick the whole time and now something bad as happened to her. To calm his nerves, he writes to his brother to ask about his mother and the reply he gets says that she is fine, but busy.
He realises that his mother simply forgot to write to him, like Alfred forgets to talk to him now.
He gets another letter with apologies all over it in a week and a package with his mother’s cooking inside. It’s more than he gets from Alfred.
-x-
When Arthur is sixteen, he notices girls going around in sleeveless tops.
The markings on their arms are unusual. They are not the same as the ones he saw on his mother all those years ago, so he presumes she had been telling the truth about it being a birthmark. They are blue and heart shaped; heart shaped in a sense that they actually resemble the human anatomy and not the doodle kids draw on their school books. It almost looks like it’s bleeding or dripping or even running. It’s tiny, but you always notice it; it’s like it shines.
Arthur starts wearing long sleeve shirts.
-x-
When Arthur is almost seventeen, there is an annual school dance.
It’s held every year for the older students, sixteen and older. Other kids always snuck in and were rarely caught but most didn’t bother. Most of the older ones never bothered anyways; school dances were boring.
Also, it didn’t help that it had a reputation of being a trap. Loved up and dancing to music, what are young and apparently in love couples going to do but kiss? And chances are they’re not going to be so lucky as to kiss their soulmate. It will lead to Arthur finding many more girls crying in the library, but it is a trick they should have known not to fall for, so he has little sympathy.
They will make the wrong choice.
Arthur doesn’t bring a date to the dance; there is no one he wants to go with and girls are not likely to ask him. He sits at the back of the room, on the floor, nursing a cup of what he knows is spiked punch. He watches everyone, girls wearing their sleeveless dresses to either show off their marks or wait for them to appear. He self consciously tugs on his sleeve, rubbing where his mark isn’t.
He stares across the room and doesn’t notice the person approaching him until he is tapped on the shoulder. He looks up and sees that the person is wearing a mask.
“Will you dance with me?” he asks, his voice a fake gruff like he’s trying to conceal how young he is or something, Arthur doesn’t know. Maybe he is too young to be here and doesn’t want anyone to catch him. Anyways, Arthur stands and nods.
“This is not a masked ball, you know,” he says as the other drags him to the dance floor. He would have much preferred to dance lightly over by the door where he would not be seen; he cant dance very well.
“I know,” the other replies as he takes Arthur’s left hand in his and fixes their arms around each other on Arthur’s right, “But what is the fun in you knowing who I am?”
Arthur frowns and lets the other sway him from side to side. He’s not the only person dancing with another man, he notes. There are two other couples on either side of the floor and some girls dancing with each other and giggling as well. He’s paying so much attention to them, he doesn’t notice the other’s face leaning in until it’s almost too late.
Their lips are millimeters apart when Arthur lets out a silent shrieking noise of shock as he pushes himself away and topples backwards. There is silence in the room except for the music playing and a few titters from girls who saw the exchange. Arthur sits up and his back hurts from the fall but not so much that he cant muster a glare at the other who appears just as shocked as he.
“What do you think you’re doing,” Arthur hissed, struggling up from the ground and ignoring the helping hand the masked man is trying to hand him.
“S-sorry, Artie, I just thought,” he tried but failed as his voice alteration did not shine through and Arthur saw.
“Alfred, just be quiet,” he growled as he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Alfred struggling to take the mask off behind him.
-x-
Arthur is seventeen when he kind of has to accept Alfred’s apology.
Alfred has tried catching him in corridors, waiting up until Arthur comes back from the library at night, trying to wake up before him in the mornings and even leaving messages saying ‘I’m sorry ):’ in his bed and drawer. Arthur has been avoiding him like the plague, but even he cant escape the fact that they’re roommates.
“I cant sleep,” Alfred says and it wakes Arthur up from a restless slumber.
“Why?” Arthur asks, groggy and forgetting that he’s supposed to be mad.
He watches as Alfred shuffles from foot to foot. “Because you're mad at me,” he says finally, “Can I sleep with you?”
Arthur contemplates this. He has been angry for about two months now and this is an all new low for Alfred to stoop to. He sighs. “You’re sixteen years old, Alfred,” he huffs, “You dont need me to comfort you every time something goes wrong.”
Alfred stops shuffling and stares at the ground, his hands intertwined and picking at his nails nervously. Then, forcefully, he gets into Arthur’s bed, permission or not, and pulls the covers over them both with an exasperated sigh. Arthur huffs and rolls over, not having much of a choice.
“You’re wrong,” Alfred tries when they are both lying as comfortably as they can on their backs; they are both far too old for this sharing business. Arthur turns his head to him, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, but that proves to be rather hard as Alfred climbs over him, staring at him with eyes that make Arthur want to melt and get sick at the same time. “I do need you.”
Arthur will later use the excuse that he was taken off guard, that he didn’t expect it. But what use will it be? The fact will still remain that, at that moment, he let Alfred steal both of their first kisses.
Arthur cant breathe very well. Alfred is pressing down on his chest and he cant move; his lips are covered by Alfred’s too and it’s hard to breathe through his nose. He tries to shuffle away, but he cant. Alfred is an enthusiastic kisser, but not what Arthur would call a good one but again, that hardly matters as he feels like he’s burning all over and he wants to scream, but he cant find the breath. He feels like he’s tied to a stake and someone has a lighter at his feet, burning him, cackling at him. He wonders if this is happening to Alfred too and it would serve him right for ruining their…his own life. Everything hurts and he wonders if this is what it feels like when you fall into the curse. He’ll never know what his markings would have looked like.
And neither will Alfred.
That is the only thing that gives him the power to push Alfred off of him at that moment. He resigns to panting as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression falling into a scowl as he glares at Alfred with as much malice as he can muster for him. Alfred just looks confused, an endearing thing that Arthur wont let himself think about.
“Idiot,” he growls, “You just ruined your bloody life.”
Alfred stays silent through Arthur’s tirade, his eyes fixed elsewhere and Arthur takes that for him not understanding. He puts his two hands on Alfred’s shoulders, gripping them tightly, leaving marks in his t-shirt and creases in the neck of it and shakes him. “You just ruined your life! Don’t you get it, you bloody idiot?!”
Alfred’s eyes are not looking at Arthur’s face, but his shoulder. Arthur follows his gaze.
His arm is blue. His markings are right there, plain as day.
“You bloody knew,” Arthur blinks, taking his hands off of Alfred to trace the mark. “How did you know?”
Maybe they wont become King and…Queen or King? But that doesn’t even matter when Alfred wraps himself around Arthur and Arthur actually allows him to once again. Nothing else matters; all that matters is that Alfred was actually right and Arthur cant believe it. Alfred kisses him again and Arthur lets him, actually lets him with not fuss, no hassle nothing. There’s no burning either; it’s over.
“I always knew.”
|END|