[fanfic] the switch - 03
Title: The Switch - Chapter 03
Author: silentside
Characters: F/A/C/E
Note/Warning: Based on this very random update of the same title here and now few days later...orz
- This chapter have FATHERLY us x uk. gahaha.
- Yandere!Matthew ftw and Alfred being distracted by cuteness orz
00 - Prologue
01 - Don't Drink and Hex
02 - Make over
What is an author tag. lol. Old habits die hard XD
Summary: In his drunken rage, Arthur placed a spell on Francis, causing him to de-age by half a millennia. However there is a side-effect: His son Matthew Williams matured 500 years ahead of his time. Hilarity and chaos ensue.
The Switch
{ Chapter 03 - For Your Own Good }
A/N: Well, this update took slightly longer than usual. I was busy making LED Boards at work that Kath and I wasn’t able to write it as faster as we should (I write most of the chapters at work. Shh.) Also I’m a bit clueless on where this will go at the moment, although the fourth chapter is on its way. We will get to have a glimpse of Arthur’s (still OC) brothers, James (Scotland, for this chapter) and the still unnamed Wales. Can anyone give me name suggestions?
Also, beware of slight Alfred OOC’ness haha.
Meanwhile,
“What do you mean there are no more reserved tables?!” Arthur is starting to see red, standing in front of the reception of an exclusive restaurant, talking to the maitre’d. “I always have a booked reservation here---” he firmly tapped the table with his finger, “--and you tell me, I don’t have a table?!”
“Monsieur, can you move ‘ere by the side? you are keeping ze line~”
“Do you bloody know who I am?!”
“Why yes, we are so very aware of ze great Arthur Kirkland.” The maitre’d cocked an eloquent eyebrow as he rubbed the tip of his moustache, before tilting to his side and noticing the tall bespectacled blond shifting uncomfortably behind the infuriated Englishman. “And ez favored boy, Alfred F. Jones!”
“Daddd...” Alfred said in a low voice, trying to say the words while faking an uneasy smile. “You are causing a scene. Again. We can eat somewhere else!”
“You maybe French, but your supervisor and chef of this establishment is English! I demand a word with him!”
Alfred runs a palm down his face.
“But he ez not here and I’m now in charge of handling his affairs.” The maitre’d replied calmly, ignoring him and opening a ledger much to Arthur’s chagrin. It’s like he didn’t hear a single word he said. “When I say there ez no more reserved seats, there is none~!”
“You...!”
And Alfred jumped to cover Arthur’s mouth before he even said anything that will cause endless trouble. “ We’ll just come back next time. Thanks man.”
As Alfred dragged the struggling Englishman away, the maitre’d continued to talk to himself, while going through a list.. “Hah...he expected to be treated with respect...after what he have done to ze great country and his fils...”
Arthur stopped struggling. “Tke m bck!” he said, his voice muffled by Alfred’s hand. He pulled it down. “I’m going to ask him something!”
“Enough already! I just want to eat noww!” Alfred whined, “Come on!”
“I will be civil, I promise.” Arthur said, shaking his arm off Alfred’s grip. He then turned around and swiftly approached the maitre’d.
“Monsieur, I don’t have all day---”
“I heard you said something.” The blond glowered, “You said I deserve this after what I have done to your country and his son. What did you mean by that?”
The maitre’d eyed him critically, from head to toe. “I’m surprised you’re unaware of it monsieur, every French in ze district have heard about the Nation being regressed and his fils becoming all too mature for his age. Shame on you and your temper!”
Arthur let out a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t that other thing that had to do with the past.
BUT WAIT.
“ What did you bloody SAY!?”
“Dad?” Alfred squeaked, watching Arthur redden anew.
“T-that’s not supposed to go out in public! I-I told him...I...I!” he sputtered, “I told that frog to keep it low until I find a remedy!”
“Aha, so you have infected ze nation with something!”
Alfred noticed several patrons (mostly French) in the restaurant stop what they’re doing to turn towards Arthur’s direction.
This time, Alfred didn’t wait anymore. He is going to hoist Arthur over his shoulders again if he had to.
== == ==
The car stopped and the cashier handed the meals through a window.
“ Thanks!” Alfred yelled as he drove off.
Arthur grumbled as he opened the box and saw the contents as food he would never even think of putting near his mouth.
“ Bloody fastfood... So much oil... ugh...”
Alfred wasn’t even fazed as he took a sip from his drink. “ Deal with it, dad. All you did was fight and bicker with every restaurant manager we can find. My stomach can’t handle the suspense already.”
“ Git. I didn’t know that blasted frog went through every shop in town and showed off his newfound youth and made me look like a bloody bully!” Arthur sputtered while trying his best not to think that he just bit a hamburger.
“ Youth?” Alfred glanced at him. “ I thought he was older than you.”
“ Were you even listening when me and my... brother were talking? Or were you too busy eating his food?”
“ I thought I heard something about spells and idiot and bastard and something about skirts and then something went flying.” Alfred shrugged. “ So what was that all about? You and him saw a movie you didn’t like?”
Arthur slapped his forehead. “ I knew it. Never you mind. Just get us home. Then you’ll see for yourself.”
“ See what?”
“ The problem, you muppet. All this time and you didn’t even catch a single bloody detail. Even if I told you now, you wouldn’t understand. Just hurry up and get us home so I can give that manky frog a piece of my mind!”
“ Well geez I beg yer pardon, kindly lil gentleman.” Alfred did his highly flavored imitation of Arthur’s accent that sent the brit flying into a rage as they drove home.
== == ==
Arthur probably still had a hangover from last evening when all of a sudden he let out a surprised yelp when Alfred was about to cross the intersection, arguing that he meant to go straight to Matthew’s place.
“But, you just said----!”
“I know what I said!” Arthur answered, “I just got confused, now turn to the right! We’re going straight to Matthew’s! Francis is with him!”
“Oh that reminds me!” Alfred chugged down the remaining contents of his cup. “Matt has your shoe. He said he found it on top of a flagpole! Man! I would like to know what happened that night!”
“I know! I know! That bloody shoe!” He bristled, “I would also like to know what happened myself! If only I can remember what transpired that evening!”
Arthur continued to talk furiously, but this time Alfred pretended not to hear him. He slowly turned up the volume of the car radio as they headed towards Matthew’s place.
== == ==
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Papa, I’m changing to my home clothes?” Matthew turned, gently folding his coat as he placed it inside his cabinet. His glasses almost slipped when he saw what Francis is wearing: It is wearing that crisp white cotton collared shirt from earlier---and it’s the only thing he is wearing right now.
“I like it breezy underneath, ‘cherie.” He dismissed his gaping expression. “Don’t look at me like that now, I’m wearing undergarments see!” He lifted his shirt briefly, making Matthew gag a little.
“Papa, you might be a child now--but please, do NOT do that again!” he sputtered, “A-and why did you come here? Is there anything you want?”
“Oui, your clothes...” he started, “Don’t just fold them. They’re made of high-quality material and must be treated with utmost care! You must put them in a hanger and cover them with ze plastic that came with ze purchase.”
“Can I wear my regular clothes now that I’m at home?”
“Of course! As long as it fits you!”
“Papa?”
“Hmm?”
“You are NOT going wearing that. Dad might come over!”
“But ez comfortable~!” he twirled around, “Surely your Father won’t mind--”
“Oh no, no...you are going to annoy him again! You know how he is once you go streaking around him!”
“I am not streaking!” he pouted like a stubborn child, placing both hands on his hips, with Matthew towering in front of him. “Do you zee me streaking? Do you want me to? Because I wouldn’t mind--”
Matthew felt something inside of him just snapped and without a single word, he grabbed his Papa’s tiny wrist and yanked him forward.
“Hey!” he let out a surprised yelp, as Matthew dragged him towards the cabinet, his grip tightening as Francis struggled. “You are hurting my arm, Mathieu!”
He responded by wordlessly pushing Francis roughly unto the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Clothes.” Matthew said tersely, in a cold and indifferent tone that made Francis shiver. The tall blond turned towards his cabinet and grabbed a dark green canvas bag with a white beaver logo on it. “I got these on sale a few weeks ago for one of my brothers. But I guess you can wear them for the time being.” He tossed a couple of cargo shorts and shirts towards Francis’s direction. He smiled, but it’s a disturbing one. “They will fit you just perfectly, Papa. Try it.”
That smile didn’t leave Matthew’s face immediately and Francis found himself nodding quietly and quickly stripping off his shirt and slipping into his ‘tacky clothes’. He never felt so violated in his life, having to wear mass manufactured, shapeless clothes...
Now he understood Arthur’s pain every time Alfred fed him fast food.
== == ==
*dingding dingdingding*
Alfred rolled his eyes as Arthur pressed the doorbell in quick succession.
“Whoahhh, take it easy!” he tried to loosen him up, “There’s no fire!”
When all of a sudden came a loud succession of crashing sounds which is then later followed by someone groaning and whimpering.
“Oh dear lord! Matthew!” Arthur gasped, “Matthew--! Alfred...will you--”
“I got it!”
Alfred gave the door a swift quick, sending it crashing down the floor. They immediately hurried inside to the source of the chaos, in Matthew’s room.
The bespectacled blond was the first to go inside, finding the grown Matthew holding a struggling small blond figure in a red shirt and cargo shorts.
“Francis?” He asked out loud, “When did you start wearing purple lenses?”
Matthew looked up, surprised at the unexpected company.
“N-no! I’m--”
Alfred quickly received a head slap from behind, “That’s your brother, you idiot!”
== == ==
Alfred is still reeling from shock after what he learned and what he is seeing right now in front of him as Arthur sighed and explained what happened last evening. If anything, the Englishman is grateful that at least for once, Alfred paid attention to what he is saying. He was also relatively quiet all throughout the time he wearily talked to the duo.
“Why can’t you just go and drive by an outlet nearby?” he emphasized his frustration with both hands, as Matthew stared down at the floor looking guilty, sitting on his bed that seemed a little too big for his new body frame. “Didn’t I tell you that we are NOT to attract any attention?! Now look---” he pointed at Matthew’s new threads, and the paper bags and boxes littered around the room. “You just have to go all the way out there, for this? He might be your son, but he isn’t you!”
“Dad, I’m really sorry!” Matthew apologized, “I tried stopping him...I...I promise it won’t happen again!”
“No, it’s not your fault, Matthew. I know you tried your best. It’s just your Father here who--” Arthur’s brow twitched, watching Francis uncomfortably roll around the mattress behind Matthew. He kept doing it for the past several minutes. “Are you even listening to me, you frog?”
“Uh, don’t mind Papa. He is just distressed...” the blond shifted uneasily, “I made him wear some of the clothes I bought that are meant for Li*.”
“Your Father would never in his life....” Arthur paused, looking over Matthew’s shoulder. “Y-You made him what?!” He did not notice it earlier, but Francis was indeed wearing something casual, or in his words ‘machine mass-produced rags’ and would rather be dead than be caught wearing one. But there he was, near reduced to tears and restless, like a child helpless in a situation beyond his control.
“I...” Matthew scratched his head sheepishly, “I don’t know, I just can’t have Papa running around the house half naked.”
Arthur placed his hand over his son’s shoulder. “Matthew.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever you did to convince him,” He glanced briefly at Francis, then back to the grown Matthew. “You must do it often. Especially now you’re physically more able---”
Arthur was instantly beaned by a pillow on the face, but saying those words are worth it.
“Don’t give him any ideas!” Francis jumped off the bed, confronting Arthur. “You weren’t here! He was scary! Ez like 1812 all over again! You probably did something to him when he was little, didn’t you?!”
“Papa...”
“I beg your pardon. I did something?” Arthur argued, “Anybody will be driven mad having to deal with your absurd demands! It’s no surprise that he snapped at you!”
“ Was I that demanding, mon fils?” Francis turned to Matthew, giving him a sad puppy-eyed look. Arthur rolled his eyes and pushed Francis away by the face, before he confuses the soft-spoken boy even more.
“Yes, Papa you are!” he lifted his hands in the air. Francis’s eyes widened. “I’m already tired from having to drive far away from here so we can shop where you WANTED, for making me wear all those expensive impractical clothes that you WANTED and all that I ask of you is listen to me and wear some CLOTHES.”
“I am wearing clothes~!”
“ Only now, papa.” Matthew sighed in exasperation. “ After I almost had to tie you up just so you’d put them on. Oh papa, I’m just after your welfare. You might catch a cold... you might get bitten by something down there... Anything can happen!”
And then Arthur and Matthew were stricken by the fact that Francis had not said a single word all this time. And when they looked at him, he have crawled back and was sniffing as he hugged a pillow in the farthest corner of the bed.
“ Y-you... you hate me...”
“ Ah! No, no! I’m just...” Matthew turned around to comfort him, crawling towards the bed. “You are my Papa, I could never hate you!”
“S-stop that, Frog! We... were just trying to keep you from doing anymore damage and... and! Honestly! Stop that sniffling! Take it like a... er... ah... Just take it easy.”
Arthur wondered if it’s all part of the regression.
“Papa,” Matthew started softly, gently folding his hands over his Papa’s, squeezing them tight. “Look, let’s think about it this way, I can wear all these nice clothes you bought me if it makes you happy--”
“---and makes you look fabulous?” he mumbled.
“Y-yes, if it makes me look fabulous.” Matthew stammered, “But you need to wear these clothes too! They’re not as bad as you think they are! They’re low maintenance, comfortable--” he pointed out, “Come on, don’t they feel nice at least?”
Francis silently nodded.
“You can at least wear it here when you’re just staying at home, if you are worried of being seen outside wearing them.” the blond suggested, rubbing his hands comfortingly up and down his Papa’s arms, “How about that? Do we have a deal?”
Francis nodded once more and reached out to Matthew, encircling his arms around his neck, holding him into a tight embrace.
Arthur looked on in disbelief, making hand gestures as words escaped him. He couldn’t believe Matthew was able to tame Francis with reason.
“Oh Mathieu~!” he sighed against the lad’s shirt, snuggling his face on the sweet smelling fabric. “Y-you are such a sweet and understanding boy!” He lifted his blue gaze from Matthew’s shoulder, looking at Arthur. “ Any father could be so lucky to have you as a son!”
Arthur can feel his brow twitch. Why that little...
“T-thanks, Papa..” Matthew said softly as he gently stroked his Papa’s back, like he is comforting a child. “So, are we okay now?”
“Ouii~”
As Matthew tried to stand up with much difficulty, Francis have latched possessively around his neck, refusing to let go.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Arthur reacted, “You may have a body of a child, but you are not one!”
“P-papa, you can let go now...”
“Noooon” He giggled, Francis is clearly enjoying this, as he starts to drag Matthew with his weight.
“P-papa, I can’t breathe...” Matthew gasped, settling him down a nearby chair.
“Oh! Désolé!”
“This is just too weeeeird--” Alfred finally spoke, after what seemed like an eternity that almost everyone forgot he is there. “Matt--” he pointed a finger at Matthew, who looked up at him. Alfred felt a shiver run down his spine, his brother really resembles Francis. So this is how he would look like after a few more centuries? “Dude, you really need to shave.”
“Uhum...I will... later.”
“Do you feel like groping somebody?”
Arthur face palmed, “You git, he is still your brother. I doubt he will have lecherous tendencies in a few hundred years.” and then he paused, “Well--”
“No, Dad,” Matthew sighed and Alfred get crept out again, just hearing Matthew’s deeper baritone voice made him seem much older than Arthur. “I don’t have the urge to do...that.”
“Are you suure? What if you see Antonio?”
“Alfred!”
“Yes, Alfred. I’m sure.” Matthew answered, “I’m still me. Nothing is going to change that. I’m just older and uh--I resemble Papa and...” Alfred got quickly distracted; he was looking at Francis who is glumly trying to wear a pair of ‘sneakers’ that Matthew has laid out earlier. “Alfred, are you listening to me?”
“Oh man! oh man!”
“A-alfred?”
“Quoi?”
“So that’s how you look like half-a-millennia younger!” His eyes lit up with amusement as he eyed Francis from head to toe.
He earned another head slap from Arthur. “ Don’t get carried away, you twit. He may have become cute... I mean smaller, but he’s still the hedonistic prick that he is.”
“ But he wooks so cuuute.” And Alfred felt the urge to pinch Francis’s cheeks. He must have had a strange expression on his face, as the de-aged blond frowned and moved his chair further back. “How come he wasn’t this cute when I first met him?”
“We were much older! Now will you stop that!”
“Whaat? I’m not doing anything!”
“Amerique,” Francis jumped down from the chair, he stood just about as tall as little above Alfred’s waist. He sighed, “Always so terribly honest! I wish Angleterre is more like you!”
Francis watched in amusement as Arthur reddened anew. “Do you know when he and I were younger, he would steal a kiss from my lips while I....mmfff!”
Matthew quickly clamped his Papa’s mouth shut before Arthur can strangle on him. “Dad is right, Alfred. Papa is still papa. He is just--smaller.”
Francis made an adorable pouty face that Alfred wasn’t able to resist.
“Can I take him out for an ice cream at least?”
“NO.”
== == ==
Arthur wasn’t expecting Alfred to be ‘enamored’ by the de-aged Francis. If ages ago, he wasn’t lured by the frog’s mouthwatering cuisine as a baby; now he’s inexplicably drawn to him because of his ‘cute’ looks. Alfred just won’t stop saying how adorable he is: a sweet faced cherub with tickled pink cheeks and round crystal-blue eyes, his long blond hair makes it hard to discern his gender until he starts talking.
Cute. That’s how the bespectacled blond keeps on describing him as he sat beside him when they start to have dinner by the living room (Matthew ordered some Chinese take out, much to Francis’s despair). Alfred is starting to sound like that tomato bastard, Antonio. However Arthur can’t fault the lad, he too have fallen for the frog’s charm way back before Alfred even existed...
“ GAH!” Everyone looked at Arthur in surprise as he slapped himself. After a brief silence, he faced them with a sober expression even as his cheeks reddened a little which left them wondering what happened to him exactly.
“ Alright, I think I may have figured out how to fix this mess. But it will take me a while before the final process. Matthew, I assure you, I can return you back to normal so don’t fret. And you frog, for the nth time, all we’re asking is that you keep low until the situation blows over. Then when everything is fixed, you can go back to your frolicking and you will be off my hands.”
Then Francis looked at him doubtfully. “ Will you really be able to return us to normal? As soon as possible?” His voice held something more than doubt, Arthur thought. It almost held... disappointment?
“ I expect you to have a little more confidence in me on this subject, Francis.” He masked the thought with his sarcasm, but his eyes betrayed a little of his suspicion. They looked almost kind. “ I cast the spell. I alone can undo it.” It was almost a promise hidden behind haughtiness.
Almost. Almost.
But he couldn’t shake off the thought that Francis seemed to be asking for something which he isn’t willing to voice out. His eyes asked for too much.
And neither of them knew how to say things in their plainest form.
What else is there to do but...
“ That’s it for tonight. I will still check on you two every now and then. I’ll be keeping to myself until I get the counter spell ready.” He tried to look away from Francis and kept his eye on Matthew. “ Alfred will come over in my place and well... help you in whichever way possible.”
“ It’s fine, dad. Thanks for your concern.” Matthew smiled.
“ Right.” Arthur tapped Alfred’s shoulder. “ Let’s get going.”
“ Wait dad.”
Arthur was annoyed. “ What is it now, you...”
Then suddenly Alfred grabbed Francis by the waist and lifted him into his arms and snuggled his face against the younger (as of now) blond. Arthur and Matthew were too surprised to react.
“ I can’t help it! He’s so cute! Francis should look like this more often!” Alfred exclaimed, which sent the shocked-at-first Francis to giggling fits and hugged his elder son back.
“ Mon Dieu, Alfred. I didn’t realize you were this big. Ah now I feel really small.” He chuckled.
Then Alfred looked at Arthur and said, “ Dad, it’s a wonder how you’re not affected by how he looks at all. You must really be in-denial.”
Arthur turned dangerously red from the collar up to to roots of his hair.
“ That’s it! We’re leaving! Goodbye, Matthew. I shall see you soon.” With that, Arthur grabbed his coat and left the room in a hurry and banged the door shut.
Alfred looked at his retreating back and flinched when the door was shut. He murmured cluelessly. “ Dad is always angry. It’s a wonder he hasn’t popped a blood vessel yet. What’s he so riled out about anyways?” He looked at Francis and ruffled his hair. “ I’ll be back tomorrow, Papa. Nighty-night! So cute!”
Francis kissed Alfred’s forehead. “ Bonne nuit, cher. Merci.”
And Matthew noticed that when Alfred put Francis down to follow Arthur, his Papa was quietly looking at the door where Arthur left.
== == ==
Chapter 03: Epilogue
“
What is it, Britannia?”
He watched from behind the bushes like a predator lurking in anticipation of its prey. Except there is no prey and Arthur Kirkland is certainly no predator, taking advantage of his small and lanky frame by trying to blend with his surroundings.
The brightly lit faes following him is making it difficult for Arthur to hide and he silently murmured that they should try to at least stay below his elbows as he watched the festivities going on around the evening’s bonfire: There were two separate camps and there are people, lots of them: men, women --and others like him, most of them gathered around the bonfire; singing, dancing and eating to their heart’s content.
“I wish I can be with them...” he whispered, ducking his head as some of the figures stood up and walked around.
“What’s stopping you?” the Faes asked him quietly.
“They will just laugh at me...”
“Why would they?”
“I...” he stammered, “I’ve always wanted to learn their dance and I can’t.”
The response suddenly sounded upbeat. “Would you want to dance with me then?”
“That’s not funny! Didn’t I tell you to keep it---” Arthur turned around, his eyes widening at what he saw. “Wahh!”
Standing before him is a tall, willowy blond in a pale blue tunic. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
“Francis!”
“Why art thou hiding, mon cher~?” Francis asked, approaching him and extending one hand.“ The festivities are in full swing. Come now, take my hand and I shall share the victuals with thine.”
Arthur panicked. “ Er... ah...L-leave me be, you f-frog! T-there is no way nor reason for me to be joining you in any event!”
Francis smiled and suddenly dragged the struggling youth away from his hiding place. Arthur attempted to ask for quiet help from his unseen friends, but when he saw they were giggling at his predicament, he negated the idea.
“ Let. Me. Go! Ah! I’ve already given my answer and it is NO!” Arthur tried to pry the slender hands from both his arms but the seemingly frail Francis possessed unusual strength not visible to his physique.
“ Thine eyes were so hungry, mon cher. Deny it no further. The feast has already begun and we shall dance to our hearts’ content this merry night.”
“ I said, for the hundredth time, that I... ” Arthur’s eyes widened.“ Oh dear no. Of course he’d be here. Let me go, you pansy! I have to go before...”
“ Before what, you nippet?”
Arthur didn’t have to look to know it was James who spoke and towered above him and shadowed away the light from the bonfire. “ Always causing trouble for everyone, ya little bampot.”
He could feel the intense, heated glare James sent in his direction. He knew he had to run away before his brother could lay hands on him again. “ Leave me be, James! I am leaving so you and your pretty little flower could have your time together under the stars!” And he secretly bit his tongue.
“ Why you insolent bairn...”
“ L’Ecosse!”
Arthur successfully removed Francis’ fingers and ran with all his might away from his brother. He didn’t run too far though. Just far enough to be unseen in the darkness of the night, but near enough to see what’s happening. He almost felt something sting his eyes and his heart when he stopped.
“ James... you arse...”
When he looked back, he saw Francis being led away by his brother. But the frog kept looking back in his direction. He knew Francis couldn’t see him. But he kept turning this way. He saw James take Francis’ hand and lead him back to the crowd.
Arthur kept his head down. Maybe he shouldn’t be staying here at all. After all, he wasn’t welcome. He sighed and started walking away. Suddenly, something pulled on his cloak.
He looked down to see a little fairy with a sad face. “ Britannia, do stay.” He heard her whisper.
Arthur felt his eyes water a bit. “ But dear, I’m not welcome... let’s go elsewhere...”
-- -- --
Meanwhile...
James looked at the quiet blond beside him. “ What’s the matter?”
Francis didn’t look up and kept staring at the bonfire. The shadows dancing on his face while the flames reflected in his blue eyes.“ I am leaving for tonight, James.”
“ Oh? Got tired pretty quickly?”
“ Maybe so. Bonne nuit.” Francis said quietly. Then he stood up and patted the redhead’s shoulder and walked away.
James chuckled a little to himself as he laid down to stare up at the stars dreamily. “ Ye always did have a big heart.”
-- -- --
Arthur found a place where he could sleep for the night. A big willow tree with branches that seemed to overshadow and protect him. Unlike the way his brother overshadowed him just a while ago...
He shook his head. No, he should be sleeping now. He doesn’t need such a terrible brother to make things unbearable even in his solitude. No. He doesn’t even need that stupid frog’s attention. No.
He doesn’t need those eyes staring at him with pity.
He shifted and pulled his cloak over his body. And the sounds of the night lulled him to sleep.
Crack.
He heard a sound. Like footsteps on dry branches. No. He must be dreaming. There it is again. This time it sounded like the crackling of a fire. But he didn’t make one. So, where is it coming from?
Annoyed and curious at the same time, he cracked one sleepy eye open to glance at what made that infuriating noise.
He saw the familiar shade of blue flapping in the darkness of the night.
Francis! His eyes widened in an instant and he quickly sat up, making the figure jump back and retreat behind a tree nearby.
“Don’t you dare hide from me!!” He shouted, as Francis pressed himself behind the tree’s wide trunk. “I saw you!”
The blond slowly stepped out of the clearing. “Arthur...”
“I don’t need your pity! Go away!” he cried, before Francis can breathe another word. His voice started to crack, “Just...go away and leave me...”
Alone.
“If it’s L’Ecosse you are worried about,” he cautiously approached Arthur, his hands pressed against his back. The smaller blond inched away as he moved closer, glaring at him with his furious green eyes so much like James. “He is not with moi. I left him back at the camp, he is probably asleep by now. You don’t have to worry about a thing, mon petit~ Now come...”
“It does not matter!” His voice stung. Arthur quickly turned around, walking away before the frog catches up with him. “I’m not going back there any longer!”
“Would you still like to dance with me?”
Arthur’s eyes widened. “ W-what?”
Francis rolled his eyes. “ I shall say it again. Would you like to dance with me?”
Arthur stared at Francis for sometime. Then suddenly he shook his head. “No!” He can almost feel his face redden, “What made you think that I would like to dance with the likes of you? A pansy like you treating me like a maiden! What bullocks!”
Francis persisted and continued to press forward, “Foolish lapin, for I can see it in thine eyes. Your soul betrayed your words. You are so easy to read just like your brother.”
Arthur grumbled something incomprehensible and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, speeding up his pace. Francis smiled. He knew he was right.
“Arthur, It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” he called out, “James also happened to have two left feet!”
“I’m not like my brother!” Then he stopped. “ Wait... What? James couldn’t... dance?”
Francis laughed a little to himself. “ Oui, petite lapin. He could not. He kept tripping all over his own feet. It was most disastrous.”
Arthur, despite himself, moved closer. “ I did not know that! All this time, I thought that almighty arse knew everything! What a complete idiot!” And he laughed so hard that Francis was quite surprised. He never saw Arthur laugh. So he watched Arthur laugh without uttering a word lest he ruin the moment.
“ Mon Dieu, this is such a pleasant surprise. If I had known that it was the only way to make you smile, I would have done this a long time ago.”
Finally, when the shorter boy was out of breath from so much laughter, he looked up at the taller one with misty eyes while clutching his stomach.
“Bloody frog, you gave me a stomach ache.”
“ Ah, it is my fault again. So like you to hide gratitude, lapin. So like...”
“ I’m not like him.” Arthur started to frown again.
Francis looked into his green eyes, his own blue eyes issuing a challenge. “ Prove me wrong.”
“ Fine by me.” And Arthur offered his hand. “ I’ll show you I’m better than he is.”
Francis smiled ruefully as he took Arthur’s rough hand. “Move closer.” He instructed him, directing one hand firmly around his waist and clasping his hand with the other. The blond shifted uncomfortably at their sudden nearness, fingers intertwined with each other, bodies pressed close.
“Now, your waist must be pressed against mine.” Francis said, only to chuckle softly as Arthur’s face bumped into his chest, their height difference making it highly impossible to happen.
“D-darn it.” came a muffled voice, and then, brief silence.
Arthur bit his lip, reluctantly shifting one foot to his left, and then the other to the right. They are starting to move, and soon enough they are swaying, slowly but surely he is leading Francis; as he tried his best to recall how the people danced earlier.
“Well, well~!” Francis finally spoke, “Not bad for a first timer, Arthur!”
He can feel the smaller blond’s confidence grow as his hand wound tighter around his waist, pulling him into a quick twirl. “I’m a fast learner.” he said, “I prefer to observe first before I act, unlike someone we both know.”
“Oh, lapin!” he laughed lightly, “He is not as bad as you think he is! Big brothers tend to be like that, but he loves you all the same!”
“Heh, he is quite a failure at expressing it...” he grumbled, as they gradually slowed down. It’s already getting pitch dark on where they are dancing and Arthur can’t barely see Francis’s form.
“--and you certainly don’t act like one.”
“Hm?”
“For someone who proclaimed himself a ‘big brother’, you certainly do not act like one.”
“Mm, I have my way of showing it, I suppose.”
“Francis?”
“Oui?”
“Why are you with James all the time?” he asked honestly, “I cannot see anything that he has that merits your attention or how he puts up with you, being you, I mean...uhh...you know what I mean...!”
“Arthur...”
Francis was about to continue, when the ground beneath them started to shake. Both looked up and were greeted by a thundering herd of horses and bright lamplights.
“F-francis?”
“Francis!”
Arthur woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat and with a stunned Alfred next to him.
So it’s just a dream. He muttered to himself, running his hand through his hair. They have just left Matthew’s place and are now on their way home. It was just an hour’s drive from there and he must be really exhausted: they’re half-way through and he has already fallen asleep.
Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur was quick, “Don’t even start! I had a nightmare! A nightmare, you hear! Watch the bloody road!”
“Uhh right. Whatever you say...” Alfred lifted a brow, finished his soda before turning his full attention to the road.
Was it really a dream?
--
*Li = Hong Kong. I think I remember H.H. is considering Li as one of the names for Hong Kong, I dunno.
Author: silentside
Characters: F/A/C/E
Note/Warning: Based on this very random update of the same title here and now few days later...orz
- This chapter have FATHERLY us x uk. gahaha.
- Yandere!Matthew ftw and Alfred being distracted by cuteness orz
00 - Prologue
01 - Don't Drink and Hex
02 - Make over
What is an author tag. lol. Old habits die hard XD
Summary: In his drunken rage, Arthur placed a spell on Francis, causing him to de-age by half a millennia. However there is a side-effect: His son Matthew Williams matured 500 years ahead of his time. Hilarity and chaos ensue.
The Switch
{ Chapter 03 - For Your Own Good }
A/N: Well, this update took slightly longer than usual. I was busy making LED Boards at work that Kath and I wasn’t able to write it as faster as we should (I write most of the chapters at work. Shh.) Also I’m a bit clueless on where this will go at the moment, although the fourth chapter is on its way. We will get to have a glimpse of Arthur’s (still OC) brothers, James (Scotland, for this chapter) and the still unnamed Wales. Can anyone give me name suggestions?
Also, beware of slight Alfred OOC’ness haha.
Meanwhile,
“What do you mean there are no more reserved tables?!” Arthur is starting to see red, standing in front of the reception of an exclusive restaurant, talking to the maitre’d. “I always have a booked reservation here---” he firmly tapped the table with his finger, “--and you tell me, I don’t have a table?!”
“Monsieur, can you move ‘ere by the side? you are keeping ze line~”
“Do you bloody know who I am?!”
“Why yes, we are so very aware of ze great Arthur Kirkland.” The maitre’d cocked an eloquent eyebrow as he rubbed the tip of his moustache, before tilting to his side and noticing the tall bespectacled blond shifting uncomfortably behind the infuriated Englishman. “And ez favored boy, Alfred F. Jones!”
“Daddd...” Alfred said in a low voice, trying to say the words while faking an uneasy smile. “You are causing a scene. Again. We can eat somewhere else!”
“You maybe French, but your supervisor and chef of this establishment is English! I demand a word with him!”
Alfred runs a palm down his face.
“But he ez not here and I’m now in charge of handling his affairs.” The maitre’d replied calmly, ignoring him and opening a ledger much to Arthur’s chagrin. It’s like he didn’t hear a single word he said. “When I say there ez no more reserved seats, there is none~!”
“You...!”
And Alfred jumped to cover Arthur’s mouth before he even said anything that will cause endless trouble. “ We’ll just come back next time. Thanks man.”
As Alfred dragged the struggling Englishman away, the maitre’d continued to talk to himself, while going through a list.. “Hah...he expected to be treated with respect...after what he have done to ze great country and his fils...”
Arthur stopped struggling. “Tke m bck!” he said, his voice muffled by Alfred’s hand. He pulled it down. “I’m going to ask him something!”
“Enough already! I just want to eat noww!” Alfred whined, “Come on!”
“I will be civil, I promise.” Arthur said, shaking his arm off Alfred’s grip. He then turned around and swiftly approached the maitre’d.
“Monsieur, I don’t have all day---”
“I heard you said something.” The blond glowered, “You said I deserve this after what I have done to your country and his son. What did you mean by that?”
The maitre’d eyed him critically, from head to toe. “I’m surprised you’re unaware of it monsieur, every French in ze district have heard about the Nation being regressed and his fils becoming all too mature for his age. Shame on you and your temper!”
Arthur let out a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t that other thing that had to do with the past.
BUT WAIT.
“ What did you bloody SAY!?”
“Dad?” Alfred squeaked, watching Arthur redden anew.
“T-that’s not supposed to go out in public! I-I told him...I...I!” he sputtered, “I told that frog to keep it low until I find a remedy!”
“Aha, so you have infected ze nation with something!”
Alfred noticed several patrons (mostly French) in the restaurant stop what they’re doing to turn towards Arthur’s direction.
This time, Alfred didn’t wait anymore. He is going to hoist Arthur over his shoulders again if he had to.
== == ==
The car stopped and the cashier handed the meals through a window.
“ Thanks!” Alfred yelled as he drove off.
Arthur grumbled as he opened the box and saw the contents as food he would never even think of putting near his mouth.
“ Bloody fastfood... So much oil... ugh...”
Alfred wasn’t even fazed as he took a sip from his drink. “ Deal with it, dad. All you did was fight and bicker with every restaurant manager we can find. My stomach can’t handle the suspense already.”
“ Git. I didn’t know that blasted frog went through every shop in town and showed off his newfound youth and made me look like a bloody bully!” Arthur sputtered while trying his best not to think that he just bit a hamburger.
“ Youth?” Alfred glanced at him. “ I thought he was older than you.”
“ Were you even listening when me and my... brother were talking? Or were you too busy eating his food?”
“ I thought I heard something about spells and idiot and bastard and something about skirts and then something went flying.” Alfred shrugged. “ So what was that all about? You and him saw a movie you didn’t like?”
Arthur slapped his forehead. “ I knew it. Never you mind. Just get us home. Then you’ll see for yourself.”
“ See what?”
“ The problem, you muppet. All this time and you didn’t even catch a single bloody detail. Even if I told you now, you wouldn’t understand. Just hurry up and get us home so I can give that manky frog a piece of my mind!”
“ Well geez I beg yer pardon, kindly lil gentleman.” Alfred did his highly flavored imitation of Arthur’s accent that sent the brit flying into a rage as they drove home.
== == ==
Arthur probably still had a hangover from last evening when all of a sudden he let out a surprised yelp when Alfred was about to cross the intersection, arguing that he meant to go straight to Matthew’s place.
“But, you just said----!”
“I know what I said!” Arthur answered, “I just got confused, now turn to the right! We’re going straight to Matthew’s! Francis is with him!”
“Oh that reminds me!” Alfred chugged down the remaining contents of his cup. “Matt has your shoe. He said he found it on top of a flagpole! Man! I would like to know what happened that night!”
“I know! I know! That bloody shoe!” He bristled, “I would also like to know what happened myself! If only I can remember what transpired that evening!”
Arthur continued to talk furiously, but this time Alfred pretended not to hear him. He slowly turned up the volume of the car radio as they headed towards Matthew’s place.
== == ==
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Papa, I’m changing to my home clothes?” Matthew turned, gently folding his coat as he placed it inside his cabinet. His glasses almost slipped when he saw what Francis is wearing: It is wearing that crisp white cotton collared shirt from earlier---and it’s the only thing he is wearing right now.
“I like it breezy underneath, ‘cherie.” He dismissed his gaping expression. “Don’t look at me like that now, I’m wearing undergarments see!” He lifted his shirt briefly, making Matthew gag a little.
“Papa, you might be a child now--but please, do NOT do that again!” he sputtered, “A-and why did you come here? Is there anything you want?”
“Oui, your clothes...” he started, “Don’t just fold them. They’re made of high-quality material and must be treated with utmost care! You must put them in a hanger and cover them with ze plastic that came with ze purchase.”
“Can I wear my regular clothes now that I’m at home?”
“Of course! As long as it fits you!”
“Papa?”
“Hmm?”
“You are NOT going wearing that. Dad might come over!”
“But ez comfortable~!” he twirled around, “Surely your Father won’t mind--”
“Oh no, no...you are going to annoy him again! You know how he is once you go streaking around him!”
“I am not streaking!” he pouted like a stubborn child, placing both hands on his hips, with Matthew towering in front of him. “Do you zee me streaking? Do you want me to? Because I wouldn’t mind--”
Matthew felt something inside of him just snapped and without a single word, he grabbed his Papa’s tiny wrist and yanked him forward.
“Hey!” he let out a surprised yelp, as Matthew dragged him towards the cabinet, his grip tightening as Francis struggled. “You are hurting my arm, Mathieu!”
He responded by wordlessly pushing Francis roughly unto the bed.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Clothes.” Matthew said tersely, in a cold and indifferent tone that made Francis shiver. The tall blond turned towards his cabinet and grabbed a dark green canvas bag with a white beaver logo on it. “I got these on sale a few weeks ago for one of my brothers. But I guess you can wear them for the time being.” He tossed a couple of cargo shorts and shirts towards Francis’s direction. He smiled, but it’s a disturbing one. “They will fit you just perfectly, Papa. Try it.”
That smile didn’t leave Matthew’s face immediately and Francis found himself nodding quietly and quickly stripping off his shirt and slipping into his ‘tacky clothes’. He never felt so violated in his life, having to wear mass manufactured, shapeless clothes...
Now he understood Arthur’s pain every time Alfred fed him fast food.
== == ==
*dingding dingdingding*
Alfred rolled his eyes as Arthur pressed the doorbell in quick succession.
“Whoahhh, take it easy!” he tried to loosen him up, “There’s no fire!”
When all of a sudden came a loud succession of crashing sounds which is then later followed by someone groaning and whimpering.
“Oh dear lord! Matthew!” Arthur gasped, “Matthew--! Alfred...will you--”
“I got it!”
Alfred gave the door a swift quick, sending it crashing down the floor. They immediately hurried inside to the source of the chaos, in Matthew’s room.
The bespectacled blond was the first to go inside, finding the grown Matthew holding a struggling small blond figure in a red shirt and cargo shorts.
“Francis?” He asked out loud, “When did you start wearing purple lenses?”
Matthew looked up, surprised at the unexpected company.
“N-no! I’m--”
Alfred quickly received a head slap from behind, “That’s your brother, you idiot!”
== == ==
Alfred is still reeling from shock after what he learned and what he is seeing right now in front of him as Arthur sighed and explained what happened last evening. If anything, the Englishman is grateful that at least for once, Alfred paid attention to what he is saying. He was also relatively quiet all throughout the time he wearily talked to the duo.
“Why can’t you just go and drive by an outlet nearby?” he emphasized his frustration with both hands, as Matthew stared down at the floor looking guilty, sitting on his bed that seemed a little too big for his new body frame. “Didn’t I tell you that we are NOT to attract any attention?! Now look---” he pointed at Matthew’s new threads, and the paper bags and boxes littered around the room. “You just have to go all the way out there, for this? He might be your son, but he isn’t you!”
“Dad, I’m really sorry!” Matthew apologized, “I tried stopping him...I...I promise it won’t happen again!”
“No, it’s not your fault, Matthew. I know you tried your best. It’s just your Father here who--” Arthur’s brow twitched, watching Francis uncomfortably roll around the mattress behind Matthew. He kept doing it for the past several minutes. “Are you even listening to me, you frog?”
“Uh, don’t mind Papa. He is just distressed...” the blond shifted uneasily, “I made him wear some of the clothes I bought that are meant for Li*.”
“Your Father would never in his life....” Arthur paused, looking over Matthew’s shoulder. “Y-You made him what?!” He did not notice it earlier, but Francis was indeed wearing something casual, or in his words ‘machine mass-produced rags’ and would rather be dead than be caught wearing one. But there he was, near reduced to tears and restless, like a child helpless in a situation beyond his control.
“I...” Matthew scratched his head sheepishly, “I don’t know, I just can’t have Papa running around the house half naked.”
Arthur placed his hand over his son’s shoulder. “Matthew.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever you did to convince him,” He glanced briefly at Francis, then back to the grown Matthew. “You must do it often. Especially now you’re physically more able---”
Arthur was instantly beaned by a pillow on the face, but saying those words are worth it.
“Don’t give him any ideas!” Francis jumped off the bed, confronting Arthur. “You weren’t here! He was scary! Ez like 1812 all over again! You probably did something to him when he was little, didn’t you?!”
“Papa...”
“I beg your pardon. I did something?” Arthur argued, “Anybody will be driven mad having to deal with your absurd demands! It’s no surprise that he snapped at you!”
“ Was I that demanding, mon fils?” Francis turned to Matthew, giving him a sad puppy-eyed look. Arthur rolled his eyes and pushed Francis away by the face, before he confuses the soft-spoken boy even more.
“Yes, Papa you are!” he lifted his hands in the air. Francis’s eyes widened. “I’m already tired from having to drive far away from here so we can shop where you WANTED, for making me wear all those expensive impractical clothes that you WANTED and all that I ask of you is listen to me and wear some CLOTHES.”
“I am wearing clothes~!”
“ Only now, papa.” Matthew sighed in exasperation. “ After I almost had to tie you up just so you’d put them on. Oh papa, I’m just after your welfare. You might catch a cold... you might get bitten by something down there... Anything can happen!”
And then Arthur and Matthew were stricken by the fact that Francis had not said a single word all this time. And when they looked at him, he have crawled back and was sniffing as he hugged a pillow in the farthest corner of the bed.
“ Y-you... you hate me...”
“ Ah! No, no! I’m just...” Matthew turned around to comfort him, crawling towards the bed. “You are my Papa, I could never hate you!”
“S-stop that, Frog! We... were just trying to keep you from doing anymore damage and... and! Honestly! Stop that sniffling! Take it like a... er... ah... Just take it easy.”
Arthur wondered if it’s all part of the regression.
“Papa,” Matthew started softly, gently folding his hands over his Papa’s, squeezing them tight. “Look, let’s think about it this way, I can wear all these nice clothes you bought me if it makes you happy--”
“---and makes you look fabulous?” he mumbled.
“Y-yes, if it makes me look fabulous.” Matthew stammered, “But you need to wear these clothes too! They’re not as bad as you think they are! They’re low maintenance, comfortable--” he pointed out, “Come on, don’t they feel nice at least?”
Francis silently nodded.
“You can at least wear it here when you’re just staying at home, if you are worried of being seen outside wearing them.” the blond suggested, rubbing his hands comfortingly up and down his Papa’s arms, “How about that? Do we have a deal?”
Francis nodded once more and reached out to Matthew, encircling his arms around his neck, holding him into a tight embrace.
Arthur looked on in disbelief, making hand gestures as words escaped him. He couldn’t believe Matthew was able to tame Francis with reason.
“Oh Mathieu~!” he sighed against the lad’s shirt, snuggling his face on the sweet smelling fabric. “Y-you are such a sweet and understanding boy!” He lifted his blue gaze from Matthew’s shoulder, looking at Arthur. “ Any father could be so lucky to have you as a son!”
Arthur can feel his brow twitch. Why that little...
“T-thanks, Papa..” Matthew said softly as he gently stroked his Papa’s back, like he is comforting a child. “So, are we okay now?”
“Ouii~”
As Matthew tried to stand up with much difficulty, Francis have latched possessively around his neck, refusing to let go.
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Arthur reacted, “You may have a body of a child, but you are not one!”
“P-papa, you can let go now...”
“Noooon” He giggled, Francis is clearly enjoying this, as he starts to drag Matthew with his weight.
“P-papa, I can’t breathe...” Matthew gasped, settling him down a nearby chair.
“Oh! Désolé!”
“This is just too weeeeird--” Alfred finally spoke, after what seemed like an eternity that almost everyone forgot he is there. “Matt--” he pointed a finger at Matthew, who looked up at him. Alfred felt a shiver run down his spine, his brother really resembles Francis. So this is how he would look like after a few more centuries? “Dude, you really need to shave.”
“Uhum...I will... later.”
“Do you feel like groping somebody?”
Arthur face palmed, “You git, he is still your brother. I doubt he will have lecherous tendencies in a few hundred years.” and then he paused, “Well--”
“No, Dad,” Matthew sighed and Alfred get crept out again, just hearing Matthew’s deeper baritone voice made him seem much older than Arthur. “I don’t have the urge to do...that.”
“Are you suure? What if you see Antonio?”
“Alfred!”
“Yes, Alfred. I’m sure.” Matthew answered, “I’m still me. Nothing is going to change that. I’m just older and uh--I resemble Papa and...” Alfred got quickly distracted; he was looking at Francis who is glumly trying to wear a pair of ‘sneakers’ that Matthew has laid out earlier. “Alfred, are you listening to me?”
“Oh man! oh man!”
“A-alfred?”
“Quoi?”
“So that’s how you look like half-a-millennia younger!” His eyes lit up with amusement as he eyed Francis from head to toe.
He earned another head slap from Arthur. “ Don’t get carried away, you twit. He may have become cute... I mean smaller, but he’s still the hedonistic prick that he is.”
“ But he wooks so cuuute.” And Alfred felt the urge to pinch Francis’s cheeks. He must have had a strange expression on his face, as the de-aged blond frowned and moved his chair further back. “How come he wasn’t this cute when I first met him?”
“We were much older! Now will you stop that!”
“Whaat? I’m not doing anything!”
“Amerique,” Francis jumped down from the chair, he stood just about as tall as little above Alfred’s waist. He sighed, “Always so terribly honest! I wish Angleterre is more like you!”
Francis watched in amusement as Arthur reddened anew. “Do you know when he and I were younger, he would steal a kiss from my lips while I....mmfff!”
Matthew quickly clamped his Papa’s mouth shut before Arthur can strangle on him. “Dad is right, Alfred. Papa is still papa. He is just--smaller.”
Francis made an adorable pouty face that Alfred wasn’t able to resist.
“Can I take him out for an ice cream at least?”
“NO.”
== == ==
Arthur wasn’t expecting Alfred to be ‘enamored’ by the de-aged Francis. If ages ago, he wasn’t lured by the frog’s mouthwatering cuisine as a baby; now he’s inexplicably drawn to him because of his ‘cute’ looks. Alfred just won’t stop saying how adorable he is: a sweet faced cherub with tickled pink cheeks and round crystal-blue eyes, his long blond hair makes it hard to discern his gender until he starts talking.
Cute. That’s how the bespectacled blond keeps on describing him as he sat beside him when they start to have dinner by the living room (Matthew ordered some Chinese take out, much to Francis’s despair). Alfred is starting to sound like that tomato bastard, Antonio. However Arthur can’t fault the lad, he too have fallen for the frog’s charm way back before Alfred even existed...
“ GAH!” Everyone looked at Arthur in surprise as he slapped himself. After a brief silence, he faced them with a sober expression even as his cheeks reddened a little which left them wondering what happened to him exactly.
“ Alright, I think I may have figured out how to fix this mess. But it will take me a while before the final process. Matthew, I assure you, I can return you back to normal so don’t fret. And you frog, for the nth time, all we’re asking is that you keep low until the situation blows over. Then when everything is fixed, you can go back to your frolicking and you will be off my hands.”
Then Francis looked at him doubtfully. “ Will you really be able to return us to normal? As soon as possible?” His voice held something more than doubt, Arthur thought. It almost held... disappointment?
“ I expect you to have a little more confidence in me on this subject, Francis.” He masked the thought with his sarcasm, but his eyes betrayed a little of his suspicion. They looked almost kind. “ I cast the spell. I alone can undo it.” It was almost a promise hidden behind haughtiness.
Almost. Almost.
But he couldn’t shake off the thought that Francis seemed to be asking for something which he isn’t willing to voice out. His eyes asked for too much.
And neither of them knew how to say things in their plainest form.
What else is there to do but...
“ That’s it for tonight. I will still check on you two every now and then. I’ll be keeping to myself until I get the counter spell ready.” He tried to look away from Francis and kept his eye on Matthew. “ Alfred will come over in my place and well... help you in whichever way possible.”
“ It’s fine, dad. Thanks for your concern.” Matthew smiled.
“ Right.” Arthur tapped Alfred’s shoulder. “ Let’s get going.”
“ Wait dad.”
Arthur was annoyed. “ What is it now, you...”
Then suddenly Alfred grabbed Francis by the waist and lifted him into his arms and snuggled his face against the younger (as of now) blond. Arthur and Matthew were too surprised to react.
“ I can’t help it! He’s so cute! Francis should look like this more often!” Alfred exclaimed, which sent the shocked-at-first Francis to giggling fits and hugged his elder son back.
“ Mon Dieu, Alfred. I didn’t realize you were this big. Ah now I feel really small.” He chuckled.
Then Alfred looked at Arthur and said, “ Dad, it’s a wonder how you’re not affected by how he looks at all. You must really be in-denial.”
Arthur turned dangerously red from the collar up to to roots of his hair.
“ That’s it! We’re leaving! Goodbye, Matthew. I shall see you soon.” With that, Arthur grabbed his coat and left the room in a hurry and banged the door shut.
Alfred looked at his retreating back and flinched when the door was shut. He murmured cluelessly. “ Dad is always angry. It’s a wonder he hasn’t popped a blood vessel yet. What’s he so riled out about anyways?” He looked at Francis and ruffled his hair. “ I’ll be back tomorrow, Papa. Nighty-night! So cute!”
Francis kissed Alfred’s forehead. “ Bonne nuit, cher. Merci.”
And Matthew noticed that when Alfred put Francis down to follow Arthur, his Papa was quietly looking at the door where Arthur left.
== == ==
Chapter 03: Epilogue
“
What is it, Britannia?”
He watched from behind the bushes like a predator lurking in anticipation of its prey. Except there is no prey and Arthur Kirkland is certainly no predator, taking advantage of his small and lanky frame by trying to blend with his surroundings.
The brightly lit faes following him is making it difficult for Arthur to hide and he silently murmured that they should try to at least stay below his elbows as he watched the festivities going on around the evening’s bonfire: There were two separate camps and there are people, lots of them: men, women --and others like him, most of them gathered around the bonfire; singing, dancing and eating to their heart’s content.
“I wish I can be with them...” he whispered, ducking his head as some of the figures stood up and walked around.
“What’s stopping you?” the Faes asked him quietly.
“They will just laugh at me...”
“Why would they?”
“I...” he stammered, “I’ve always wanted to learn their dance and I can’t.”
The response suddenly sounded upbeat. “Would you want to dance with me then?”
“That’s not funny! Didn’t I tell you to keep it---” Arthur turned around, his eyes widening at what he saw. “Wahh!”
Standing before him is a tall, willowy blond in a pale blue tunic. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.
“Francis!”
“Why art thou hiding, mon cher~?” Francis asked, approaching him and extending one hand.“ The festivities are in full swing. Come now, take my hand and I shall share the victuals with thine.”
Arthur panicked. “ Er... ah...L-leave me be, you f-frog! T-there is no way nor reason for me to be joining you in any event!”
Francis smiled and suddenly dragged the struggling youth away from his hiding place. Arthur attempted to ask for quiet help from his unseen friends, but when he saw they were giggling at his predicament, he negated the idea.
“ Let. Me. Go! Ah! I’ve already given my answer and it is NO!” Arthur tried to pry the slender hands from both his arms but the seemingly frail Francis possessed unusual strength not visible to his physique.
“ Thine eyes were so hungry, mon cher. Deny it no further. The feast has already begun and we shall dance to our hearts’ content this merry night.”
“ I said, for the hundredth time, that I... ” Arthur’s eyes widened.“ Oh dear no. Of course he’d be here. Let me go, you pansy! I have to go before...”
“ Before what, you nippet?”
Arthur didn’t have to look to know it was James who spoke and towered above him and shadowed away the light from the bonfire. “ Always causing trouble for everyone, ya little bampot.”
He could feel the intense, heated glare James sent in his direction. He knew he had to run away before his brother could lay hands on him again. “ Leave me be, James! I am leaving so you and your pretty little flower could have your time together under the stars!” And he secretly bit his tongue.
“ Why you insolent bairn...”
“ L’Ecosse!”
Arthur successfully removed Francis’ fingers and ran with all his might away from his brother. He didn’t run too far though. Just far enough to be unseen in the darkness of the night, but near enough to see what’s happening. He almost felt something sting his eyes and his heart when he stopped.
“ James... you arse...”
When he looked back, he saw Francis being led away by his brother. But the frog kept looking back in his direction. He knew Francis couldn’t see him. But he kept turning this way. He saw James take Francis’ hand and lead him back to the crowd.
Arthur kept his head down. Maybe he shouldn’t be staying here at all. After all, he wasn’t welcome. He sighed and started walking away. Suddenly, something pulled on his cloak.
He looked down to see a little fairy with a sad face. “ Britannia, do stay.” He heard her whisper.
Arthur felt his eyes water a bit. “ But dear, I’m not welcome... let’s go elsewhere...”
-- -- --
Meanwhile...
James looked at the quiet blond beside him. “ What’s the matter?”
Francis didn’t look up and kept staring at the bonfire. The shadows dancing on his face while the flames reflected in his blue eyes.“ I am leaving for tonight, James.”
“ Oh? Got tired pretty quickly?”
“ Maybe so. Bonne nuit.” Francis said quietly. Then he stood up and patted the redhead’s shoulder and walked away.
James chuckled a little to himself as he laid down to stare up at the stars dreamily. “ Ye always did have a big heart.”
-- -- --
Arthur found a place where he could sleep for the night. A big willow tree with branches that seemed to overshadow and protect him. Unlike the way his brother overshadowed him just a while ago...
He shook his head. No, he should be sleeping now. He doesn’t need such a terrible brother to make things unbearable even in his solitude. No. He doesn’t even need that stupid frog’s attention. No.
He doesn’t need those eyes staring at him with pity.
He shifted and pulled his cloak over his body. And the sounds of the night lulled him to sleep.
Crack.
He heard a sound. Like footsteps on dry branches. No. He must be dreaming. There it is again. This time it sounded like the crackling of a fire. But he didn’t make one. So, where is it coming from?
Annoyed and curious at the same time, he cracked one sleepy eye open to glance at what made that infuriating noise.
He saw the familiar shade of blue flapping in the darkness of the night.
Francis! His eyes widened in an instant and he quickly sat up, making the figure jump back and retreat behind a tree nearby.
“Don’t you dare hide from me!!” He shouted, as Francis pressed himself behind the tree’s wide trunk. “I saw you!”
The blond slowly stepped out of the clearing. “Arthur...”
“I don’t need your pity! Go away!” he cried, before Francis can breathe another word. His voice started to crack, “Just...go away and leave me...”
Alone.
“If it’s L’Ecosse you are worried about,” he cautiously approached Arthur, his hands pressed against his back. The smaller blond inched away as he moved closer, glaring at him with his furious green eyes so much like James. “He is not with moi. I left him back at the camp, he is probably asleep by now. You don’t have to worry about a thing, mon petit~ Now come...”
“It does not matter!” His voice stung. Arthur quickly turned around, walking away before the frog catches up with him. “I’m not going back there any longer!”
“Would you still like to dance with me?”
Arthur’s eyes widened. “ W-what?”
Francis rolled his eyes. “ I shall say it again. Would you like to dance with me?”
Arthur stared at Francis for sometime. Then suddenly he shook his head. “No!” He can almost feel his face redden, “What made you think that I would like to dance with the likes of you? A pansy like you treating me like a maiden! What bullocks!”
Francis persisted and continued to press forward, “Foolish lapin, for I can see it in thine eyes. Your soul betrayed your words. You are so easy to read just like your brother.”
Arthur grumbled something incomprehensible and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, speeding up his pace. Francis smiled. He knew he was right.
“Arthur, It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” he called out, “James also happened to have two left feet!”
“I’m not like my brother!” Then he stopped. “ Wait... What? James couldn’t... dance?”
Francis laughed a little to himself. “ Oui, petite lapin. He could not. He kept tripping all over his own feet. It was most disastrous.”
Arthur, despite himself, moved closer. “ I did not know that! All this time, I thought that almighty arse knew everything! What a complete idiot!” And he laughed so hard that Francis was quite surprised. He never saw Arthur laugh. So he watched Arthur laugh without uttering a word lest he ruin the moment.
“ Mon Dieu, this is such a pleasant surprise. If I had known that it was the only way to make you smile, I would have done this a long time ago.”
Finally, when the shorter boy was out of breath from so much laughter, he looked up at the taller one with misty eyes while clutching his stomach.
“Bloody frog, you gave me a stomach ache.”
“ Ah, it is my fault again. So like you to hide gratitude, lapin. So like...”
“ I’m not like him.” Arthur started to frown again.
Francis looked into his green eyes, his own blue eyes issuing a challenge. “ Prove me wrong.”
“ Fine by me.” And Arthur offered his hand. “ I’ll show you I’m better than he is.”
Francis smiled ruefully as he took Arthur’s rough hand. “Move closer.” He instructed him, directing one hand firmly around his waist and clasping his hand with the other. The blond shifted uncomfortably at their sudden nearness, fingers intertwined with each other, bodies pressed close.
“Now, your waist must be pressed against mine.” Francis said, only to chuckle softly as Arthur’s face bumped into his chest, their height difference making it highly impossible to happen.
“D-darn it.” came a muffled voice, and then, brief silence.
Arthur bit his lip, reluctantly shifting one foot to his left, and then the other to the right. They are starting to move, and soon enough they are swaying, slowly but surely he is leading Francis; as he tried his best to recall how the people danced earlier.
“Well, well~!” Francis finally spoke, “Not bad for a first timer, Arthur!”
He can feel the smaller blond’s confidence grow as his hand wound tighter around his waist, pulling him into a quick twirl. “I’m a fast learner.” he said, “I prefer to observe first before I act, unlike someone we both know.”
“Oh, lapin!” he laughed lightly, “He is not as bad as you think he is! Big brothers tend to be like that, but he loves you all the same!”
“Heh, he is quite a failure at expressing it...” he grumbled, as they gradually slowed down. It’s already getting pitch dark on where they are dancing and Arthur can’t barely see Francis’s form.
“--and you certainly don’t act like one.”
“Hm?”
“For someone who proclaimed himself a ‘big brother’, you certainly do not act like one.”
“Mm, I have my way of showing it, I suppose.”
“Francis?”
“Oui?”
“Why are you with James all the time?” he asked honestly, “I cannot see anything that he has that merits your attention or how he puts up with you, being you, I mean...uhh...you know what I mean...!”
“Arthur...”
Francis was about to continue, when the ground beneath them started to shake. Both looked up and were greeted by a thundering herd of horses and bright lamplights.
“F-francis?”
“Francis!”
Arthur woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat and with a stunned Alfred next to him.
So it’s just a dream. He muttered to himself, running his hand through his hair. They have just left Matthew’s place and are now on their way home. It was just an hour’s drive from there and he must be really exhausted: they’re half-way through and he has already fallen asleep.
Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur was quick, “Don’t even start! I had a nightmare! A nightmare, you hear! Watch the bloody road!”
“Uhh right. Whatever you say...” Alfred lifted a brow, finished his soda before turning his full attention to the road.
Was it really a dream?
--
*Li = Hong Kong. I think I remember H.H. is considering Li as one of the names for Hong Kong, I dunno.