Halcyon [Mister + Assi] - R-18

Alfred huffed and soon he shook his head, walking forward as he grabbed Arthur's unhurt shoulder to help steady him.

"Don't be stupid. The damage to my clothes is already done. I can just buy another jacket." With a frown, he soon pulled Arthur's sleeve up so he could look at the wound. Not big but definitely deep. He would have to let the nurses come into his bedroom over the night so the wound could be treated.

"And you're not fine. Stupid." Alfred huffed once more before he began to wrap his sleeve around the other's arm, tying it up so the blood flow would stop.

"Do you think you can ride your horse? I can lead your horse and ride you back on my horse if you want. You seem really unstable though right now."

Arthur blushed as Alfred pushed up the sleeve of his shirt but didn’t protest. He winced as Alfred began to bandage his wound. He used his not-injured arm to reach out and hold on to Alfred, ensuring for definite that he wouldn’t fall over.

“Stop calling me stupid,” he protested, eyes closed. He shook his head at the question however. “I’ll be alright. It’s just a cut. I can ride. It’ll take longer unless I do… you’re not hurt at all, are you?” he had to ask to be sure. He hadn’t seen anyone get close enough to hurt Alfred but he had no idea whether he was unscathed or not.

Alfred's own cheeks were red as he worked on Arthur's arm and soon enough he believed it was tight enough. Covering the bandage again, he shifted around before going over to fix Nahrin's reigns so it would be easier for the other.

"I'm not hurt. Don't worry."

He soon glanced away, going back to his own horse as he wiped some of the blood off of his hands.

"And I have every right to call you stupid. You are stupid. You got hurt...there are people worried for you, you know." He refused to look back at Arthur and he simply waited for the other to get back on so that they could head back to the castle.

Arthur hummed by way of expressing his relief. He was still pink in the face from the light touch of Alfred’s fingers.

“Hmm…” he sighed, carefully re-mounting. “I suppose there are.” His mother, for example. He didn’t say thank you for Alfred adjusting his reigns, although he was grateful. He gave Nahrin a gentle kick to tell him to begin to walk again and began to head back to the castle, waiting for Alfred to take the lead again.

His arm wasn’t throbbing anymore and he didn’t feel as sick, but he still felt as though he could faint. Probably from the shock, he supposed. He’d felt a similar feeling when he’d been saved from drowning all of those years ago.

Alfred just nodded before riding off to the castle. He didn't say too much though, especially considering how Arthur didn't seem all that well. When they finally got to the castle, Alfred helped the other get off his horse before finally leading them to the main entrance.

Looking over at one of the servants, who seemed to be a bit startled at seeing their state, Alfred frowned.

"Can you get the nurses to Arthur's bedroom for right now? He needs to be taken care of."

He began to lead Arthur towards the bedroom, letting most of the weight on himself.

Arthur rode after him, trying to ignore the throbbing feeling now developing in his arm. He was appreciative of Alfred helping him, although he felt like a child as a result. But at least Alfred hadn’t just abandoned him in the forest to fend for himself.

He tried not to put too much weight on Alfred, feeling all the more embarrassed from how Alfred was more or less having to carry him. He continued to mumble to Alfred that he was okay, uselessly.

Once they went into the bedroom, Arthur uncurled himself from around Alfred and didn’t hesitate in removing his shirt. He knew that he would have to at some point, anyway and he’d been naked in front of servants before. But this, he had to admit, made him feel particularly on-show. They were two men (boys). It shouldn’t have made a difference to the atmosphere of the room. But it did.

He knew he was probably a lot more formed than Alfred, considering the small age gap. Arthur had the signs of becoming a man on his body; the body hair, the ever-so-slightly present muscles, and even stubble when he forgot to shave. He made sure that he wasn’t totally exposing himself to Alfred, though as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to block his chest from view.

He grunted a little as he felt his wound weep from all of his movement.

Despite himself, Alfred couldn't help but gaze at Arthur as he took off his shirt. He really shouldn't have been so fascinated or maybe even jealous. It was obvious that the other was growing while he himself...well...why he definitely was taller than most boys his age, he hadn't grown just yet. He still had a bit of a way to go. He was more athletic than other boys and strong but compared to Arthur, he felt young.

There was nothing wrong with staring at a boy, right? Of course not. Especially after Arthur was hurt! He was only caring for him.

Yet soon enough the nurses came rushing in and he stood a bit back as they swooped in to take care of him.

He needed this opportunity, right? To push him completely out of suspicion when Arthur's assassination came around. Alfred took in a deep breath and he simply smiled at Arthur.

"You're going to be alright. The nurses here will take really good care of you! I'll...I'll leave you alone now." And with that, he began to head out of the room.

Arthur’s cheeks felt hot, aware that Alfred was looking. He was grateful when the nurses rushed in so that he didn’t have to worry about it so much anymore. He let them pull him about in his position and for them to start tending to his wound. Arthur was far too aware that this was going to hurt, particularly if they stitched it back together. He grimaced at the idea.

He forced a smile for Alfred, though.

“A-Alfred, you should tell your father what happened so that he can do something so that more people don’t get hurt…” he was quiet for a few moments, forcing himself not to look at his injury and instead at Alfred. “And thank you. I don’t know if I would have made it back without you.”

Alfred paused for a long moment, soon turning back to look at Arthur.

It hurt him...hearing those words. Because they filled him with so much hope. It...it was terrible. He gave him a small smile.

"I can't let my friend die..."

That was all he said before he quickly hurried out of the room, feeling tears of frustration pricking at the corners of his eyes.

He was such a liar. A filthy, terrible liar. He was a terrible person. The worst person out there.

Alfred soon hurried to his father so he could tell him what had happened. At least the King himself seemed adamant on making a change to ensure more safety outside of the city gates. After that, Alfred had to retire for the night, though his sleep wasn't all that well.

Arthur was fine. No blood poisoning, no stitches, just a clean, deep cut that would have to heal in its own time. For the time being, he would just have to change his bandages daily and prevent the wound from getting infected.

It was nice now that he was friends with Alfred. He would actively seek him out once he’d spent some time with Madeline and ask him to do things like play chess. Arthur won every time, obviously. And was an arse about it, obviously. He lost a few times but insisted that Alfred was cheating. They would argue but Arthur would apologise and they’d be fine (or so Arthur thought). He really enjoyed spending time with the Columbian prince.

Then, at last, it was the pre-marital party. There was a huge party being thrown within the castle to celebrate the alliance of the two kingdoms. This truly was a great advance forward, considering that they had been at war twenty years prior. The celebrations even spread into the city on that night. Everyone was enjoying themselves.

The hall was rowdy, filled with people dancing in lines, people drinking, people talking. It was something Arthur hadn’t ever really experienced before. He had never been allowed to big celebrations, let alone had a party thrown partially on his behalf.

For the majority of the evening, he and Madeline had been forced to sit still and watch, but now they were free to do what they wanted now that it was getting later. Arthur was already on his second ale by the time he found Alfred.

“Have you ever tried this, Alfred?” he inquired, a sparkle in his eye.

Alfred had the drink in hand which he put the liquid that Brutus gave him in. Now all he needed was for Arthur to drink it.

He had spent the past few days trying to come up with reasons why he was justified to murder Arthur. He was justified...he really was. He had to do it because in the end, he cared more for Madeline than Arthur. He knew that Arthur had to sit still for most of the party but soon enough he was released. After having a few dances with a few of the women on the dance floor, he finally caught sight of Arthur.

He simply grinned and held up his glass of alcohol.

"You think that's good? You should try this. It's imported from the very best, you know!"

He soon held out his glass to Arthur, simply smiling at him.

"It's a definite must try."

Arthur seemed surprised but just laughed it off.

“I’m quite amazed that you drink so readily. When I was of your age, I hated alcohol!” he looked between Alfred and the glass but eventually decided to accept the challenge.

He handed Alfred his own pint of ale as he took the glass from Alfred. He took a large gulp of it and grimaced. It tasted impossibly sweet, like cinnamon which burned the back of his throat and left a bitter after-taste. He blinked a few times and handed the glass back to Alfred before retrieving his own.

“It’s an acquired taste, I’m sure...” he shrugged. “I’m not sure that I liked that,” he admitted. He soon found himself suppressing a yawn. His body and eyelids felt heavy and suddenly all he wanted to do was sleep. “I feel tired now… I blame your bloody alcohol for that,” he laughed, joking because he didn’t realise the harsh reality.

Alfred just barked out a laugh and he simply smiled at Arthur, drinking down the rest of the ale that the other prince had handed him.

"Yeah, it probably is. I've enjoyed alcohol for quite a while. It's good to let loose once in a while."

He tried to look a bit surprised when he heard that Arthur was tired.

"Are you sure? Maybe it's just a bit strong or you're tired from the party. You should rest if you're tired." To assure him, he lightly patted his shoulder, looking at him with concern.

“Pfft, my father wouldn’t have allowed me to do that. Your parents are obviously more liberal than mine.” Arthur’s smile was somewhat sillier after having had a couple of drinks.

His heart skipped a beat as Alfred patted his shoulder.

“That’s what I meant, you daft sod,” he laughed. “And I know but… it’s a party that’s been held for Madeline and I.” He put down his now empty glass and placed his hands on Alfred’s shoulders to steady himself as he felt like he might topple over. “I’m supposed to stay until it closes.”

And he might work up the courage to kiss Madeline if he drank enough.

Alfred frowned and he shook his head though he let Arthur lean against him. In all reality, all that he had sipped was the ale that the other gave him. He didn't want to do this assassination when he was half drunk and could barely keep in mind what he was supposed to do. He was a rather bad drunk after all.

"Don't be stupid," He muttered. "You're using me pretty much as your support. I don't want to be your support all day. Nay, come on up with me so you can sleep. I'm only taking yes as an answer."

He soon looked over at a few of the servants that were passing by.

"May you come with us to Prince Arthur's room? He will need help with dressing to his night clothes. He's quite drunk."

And with that, he tried to lead Arthur up to his room, not wanting to take no for an answer.

Arthur didn’t try to protest, knowing that if he was this tired already then it could only get worse. He protested at the idea of the servants having to dress him, however. He wriggled away from Alfred and shook his head.

“No, no, no. I don’t need help to change. I don’t. I’ll be fine, really.” He stumbled slightly to the side before regaining his balance before Alfred began to lead him up to his chambers. Arthur mumbled protests that he shouldn’t be leaving the party so early and that it wasn’t fair on Madeline (who he was now referring to as ‘Maddie’), and the like.

When they reached Arthur’s room, he felt reminded of a few days previously when they’d been attacked. He was able to strip himself of all of his finery, such as his crown and the jewels he was wearing. However, he was more reluctant to remove his dagger. He fumbled to find nightwear to change into.

“I might be drunk, but I’m not changing in front of you,” Arthur looked blearily over at Alfred. “At least turn your back.”

Alfred just huffed though the servants still came up with them. They began to prepare his bed as Arthur changed and all the prince could do was roll his eyes and turn away from Arthur.

"Fine, fine. I won't look."

That was all he said as he waited patiently for the other to change out of his clothes and put on new ones. It was weird, knowing that Arthur was changing right behind him and in fact, it was also a bit embarrassing.

A few of the servants, after readying his bed, simply lingered around the room, waiting just in case he had other requests. Alfred simply sighed.

"Get a good sleep, okay?"

Arthur changed as quickly as he could and handed over his clothes (and reluctantly, his dagger) to the servants. He had blushed at the unwilling tone of Alfred as he had agreed to look away. He pursed his lips and ventured to climb into bed.

“I’ll try,” he murmured. “Alfred, can you say to your sister that I’m sorry for retiring so early? I hope that you both enjoy the party.” He settled in his bed and shooed away the servants.

Alfred watched as the servants soon scurried away from the room and Alfred was the only one left with Arthur. He finally turned his gaze over to the other prince and came closer to him, standing next to his bed. He just gave him a small smile though.

"Of course I'll tell her that. And I'm sure I'll enjoy it enough. Just want to make sure you actually get the sleep that you need."

He definitely wasn't going to get the sleep he needed after this.

His heart was pounding and he knew that the time was drawing closer and closer. There really wasn't all that much he could do about it. It was inevitable. It had to happen.

For Maddie. His beloved sister. She needed her happiness, even if it meant that he had to get rid of his.

"Just get to sleep now," He whispered, looking down at Arthur with what could almost be considered as affection.

Arthur hummed softly, appreciating the softer, more affectionate tone in Alfred’s voice.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, feeling safe under the watchful gaze of someone he would now consider a friend. The potion obviously helped a lot. It was not long at all until Arthur was in a deep, deep sleep; his body was relaxed, totally limp and vulnerable to his surroundings.

Alfred knew that this would probably be the only chance that he had. He didn't want to disappoint Brutus...he didn't want to disappoint himself. He waited for a few minutes to make sure that Arthur was asleep, even so much as brushing the hair out of his face to see if he reacted.

He was shaking, his fingers trembling as he reached down to try feeling for Arthur's dagger.

He had to do this. He had to. He hated Arthur. Hated him so much.

Right?

No! Of course he hated him! He despised him! This was the only way to prevent the marriage!

Slowly he grabbed the hilt of the dagger, slowly sliding it out away from Arthur and he gripped it tight. So very, very tight.

"I'm sorry," He whispered as he kept a careful eye on Arthur.

Arthur continued to sleep peacefully, unaware of Alfred’s presence. He might have twitched once or twice as Alfred brushed his hair and reached for the dagger, but aside from that, he was totally still.

Brutus was outside of the room, waiting for the deed to be done. He was guarding the door, as he had said that he would do and was waiting for the young prince to emerge from the chambers. It was after that, that he would call the guards and tell them what Alfred had done. He didn’t care what it did to the alliance between the two kingdoms. He wanted Arthur gone, and Alfred, too. That way, the only sensible option would be to join both Albion and Columbia into one land, with Brutus as king… and maybe the weedy little girl as his wife. She would become beautiful one day, he was sure. And being married to a young woman would certainly have its advantages.

He was patient, knowing that Alfred would take some time to do it.

However, if the stupid boy did not do as he was asked… then it would have to be Brutus.

Alfred took in a breath, looking at the dagger for a long moment.

He needed to do this. He really did. Though soon he gazed upon Arthur's face, so much peace...so unaware of what was to happen. He took a deep breath, hands shaking as he shuddered a bit.

He kept his gaze on Arthur and he remembered Arthur's friendship...his acceptance of him even when he had been terrible to him before. That day that he waited for him even when he was angry at him. Their countless times of playing chess with each other and grinning and laughing and taunting. Especially when he managed to win by accident.

That wasn't him pretending. That was their actual bond.

And as he studied his features, he couldn't help but think that Arthur was quite like a doll right then. So pretty...and he looked so peaceful. The way his lips were slightly parted...

The dagger dropped to the ground, clanging and his body wracked.

"I can't do it," He whispered to himself. "I can't do it."

He couldn't do it.

He didn't want to do it.

Arthur was his first real friend in the royal family.

He didn't want him to die.

Brutus heard something clatter to the ground and assumed the worst. As he opened the door, he saw exactly what he dreaded. Alfred looked mortified and the dagger was on the floor – there wasn’t any blood. He shut the door and in a heated whisper, scolded Alfred:

“You’ll wake him up, you stupid boy. What are you waiting for? Get it over with,” he growled out. He picked up the dagger from the floor and pointed it at Alfred’s neck. “Do it.”

Alfred's breath hitched when he saw the dagger soon pointed to his neck and all he could feel was sheer fear. He was frightened. Terrified. He would be killed if he did anything wrong.

"I need the dagger. I'm sorry...I'll do it," He whispered. He didn't have a dagger on himself unfortunately.

Yet he couldn't kill Arthur. He couldn't kill him.

No matter how angry he was at him before...he couldn't do it.

He should have never agreed to this...now he was most likely going to die.