Chapter Text
The ceiling was white.
It was the kind of white that spoke to years of being whitewashed with slaked lime, a solid white that almost glowed. Carvings, both decorative and functional, were set into the four corners of the ceiling. There were sigils for protection, harmony, clarity, and tranquility. Purification charms floated lazily through the air. The air was clean and fresh, perfumed with cloves, mint, and sage.
This was a Healing House.
And this was a room furnished with a single, comfortable bed, several tables, and a few chairs. There was a fireplace set into the opposite wall, but it was currently unlit, as the day was proving to be warm. A window was set into the adjacent wall, laced with weatherproofing spells.
There was a chair sat next to the bed, and in it sprawled Alfred. The man was wearing a simple linen shirt and pants. The cut on his jaw was mostly healed and his skin looked warm and flushed with life. He’d crossed his arms across his chest and was well asleep, chin tucked into his chest.
Arthur couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even as exhaustion pulled at him and lured him into a dreamless sleep.
“Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon? You’ve just missed the noon bell, I’m afraid. But fret not, my dear, for the rest of the day is looking to be quite fine. The weather mages have provided a forecast of sunny skies with light cloud coverage, a light breeze, and warm temperatures into the evening.”
Arthur blinked hazily at the white ceiling before turning his head to the side. It was more difficult than expected, his muscles stiff and his body lacking strength. His mind was strangely fuzzy like someone had stuffed it with wool and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Earl Bonnefoy sat by his bed, legs crossed and fingers laced over the topmost knee. He peered at Arthur. “Well, you’re certainly looking better today.”
It took Arthur several tries before he could get his throat working, but all that came out was a confused grunt.
The Earl leaned into the backrest. “You’re in the Royal House of Healing, with your own private room, no less. That’s a privilege only extended to members of the Families and those with enough influence. Or, in your case, those who willingly sacrifice themselves to save the Kingdom.”
“What?” Arthur had managed to unstick his tongue. He tried to adjust himself but his body barely responded. Looking down was difficult, but he managed slowly, and the sight dried up whatever words he was about to say. The bed he laid in was dressed in the finest of linens, soft and the purest of whites. A blanket covered him up to the chest and his arms rested on top. Arthur almost couldn’t recognize his own limbs. Bandages covered his arms all the way from the tips of his fingers to his elbows.
Bonnefoy tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. “You did quite a number on yourself, my dear. If Matthew hadn’t gotten there in time, you most likely would’ve bled to death.”
The mage frowned and cleared his throat. “Matthew was there?” He pushed on before Bonnefoy could reply. “It worked then? The spell’s been broken?”
The Earl nodded. “Yes, all thanks to you.”
Arthur tried to move his fingers but everything from the shoulders down was numb. He did manage to wiggle his toes, and that brought him more relief than expected. “I thought I saw Alfred, earlier.”
“He visited you every day before he was discharged.” Bonnefoy’s smile was fond. “He got called in for Company business, but I’m sure he’ll be by to visit you soon.”
Arthur hummed sleepily, heavy eyelids fighting to stay open. A purification spell floated by and he tracked its progress absently, watching as motes of light dissipated into the air.
Francis chuckled softly at his bedside. “Sleep well, Arthur.”
The next time Arthur woke up, it was Matthew in the chair. The young man was reading a book, but Arthur was unable to read the title from his angle. He watched Matthew. The room was quiet except for their breathing and the occasional flip of a page.
Something must’ve given him away, because in the next moment Matthew looked up. They made eye contact and the young man gasped, nearly losing his grip on his book as he closed it with a snap. He fumbled for a moment, caught unaware, before getting up to place the book on a table. Matthew hurried back to Arthur’s side, face lighting up with joy. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”
Arthur noted that the blanket was tucked all the way up to his chin this time. “I’ve been better. It’s good to see you again, Matthew.”
The young man’s smile wobbled dangerously before settling into something weak. “I’m glad to see you too. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want to sit up? Wait, you might not tolerate sitting yet-”
Arthur cut in before the healer could work himself up even more. “Something to drink would be lovely, thank you.” He watched as Matthew excused himself, practically running out the door.
With the healer gone, Arthur tried to take stock of himself. His entire body felt sore but also strangely disconnected. This time he could move his arms but he was still unable to feel anything below the shoulder. His mind was more sluggish than it should be and his thoughts were oddly cottony. Deciding to leave his mental state alone for now, Arthur began the arduous process of sitting up. To say it was hard was an understatement. All at once, the soreness bloomed into hot searing pain. Everything hurt; his skin, muscles, bone. Vertigo gripped him tight and his vision grayed out in a surge of lightheadedness. And his arms. They burned, the nerves in his hands screaming up his arms.
The room suddenly felt equally hot and cold and all he could do was collapse onto his side, unable to do anything about the arm trapped under him. Gentle hands turned him onto his back and he moaned at the motion. Peeling his eyes open, he saw Matthew hovering over him, alarm and worry creasing his face.
“Hang on, let me help you.” With an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, Matthew sat him up with practiced motions, tucking his pillows behind him to give him enough support to stay upright.
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut again at the drastic change in posture, and he had to take a moment before he could open his eyes. “Thank you,” he rasped, throat dry and strangely hoarse.
The healer flashed him a tense smile. “You’re very welcome.” He tucked the blanket around Arthur’s waist before turning away to grab the pitcher and cup he’d been carrying. Matthew poured a cup and passed a quick hand over it to warm it. He helped Arthur drink his fill. “Do you want something for the pain?”
Shaking his head, Arthur marveled at the taste of fresh, warm milk. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he’d had anything as luxurious as that. Thirst slaked and throat soothed, he watched Matthew bustle about. “What happened?”
The healer made a face that was highly reminiscent of a kicked puppy. “Francis didn’t tell you?” At Arthur’s negative, he sighed quietly. “I don’t have the full story, but I can tell you what I know.” He sat in the chair and ran a hand through his wavy hair. “Francis had me pulled off duty, said he needed me for a business trip up north. I guess looking back I know why he did that, but at the time I thought it was really strange.” He fidgeted for a moment before continuing. “We came across Ryker and the others. Francis called it coincidence but I guess not. They’d staked out the perimeter of the Barrens, it was a whole mess.”
Arthur made a noise in his throat. “How are they? Emil and Ludwig weren’t doing well when we left them.”
Matthew poured more milk into the cup. “Ludwig took some effort, but they were stable enough to come back to the City. Emil’s discharged now but Ludwig’s still under surveillance.” He tapped his knee absently. “We all felt it when you broke the spell. Like something imploded. The horses nearly took off on us. Anyway, Francis and I found you two. Any later and you wouldn’t be here right now, I don’t think.” The young man shuddered, face turning pale.
The acolyte accepted the second cup of milk. “That’s what Francis- the Earl said.”
“He wasn’t lying.” Matthew put the cup back on the table once it was empty. “When we got there, Alfred was under some combination of shielding and sleep I’d never seen before and you were bleeding to death.” He nodded at Arthur’s bandaged arms. “Blood magic takes a toll on its users, so it’ll be a while before you’ll get full use of your hands back. It took all my knowledge and experience to stabilize you. And then once we brought you back the Royal Healers were with you for a very long time.”
Arthur sat there, silently taking in Matthew’s words. He tried to move a finger and watched it feebly twitch. “To be honest, I didn’t think I’d still be alive after I broke the spell. I suppose I should thank you.” He quirked a small smile at the young man.
Matthew let out a long sigh. “Please don’t do something that crazy ever again. I don’t think my heart can handle it.”
The acolyte chuckled. “I’m not sure I can promise you that.”
Matthew groaned, the corner of his lip twitching with a poorly concealed smile. “Now you’re sounding like Al. We really don’t need two Alfreds around here. One’s enough!”
Laughter bubbled out of Arthur, light as air.
He was now strong enough to sit up in bed unassisted. Arthur still spent most of his time sleeping and was always tired, but at least he wasn’t constantly horizontal anymore. One of the Royal Healers had changed his bandages and the sight had turned his stomach. The skin on his hands was red, raw, and shiny, like he’d dipped them into scalding water. Stitches held his self-inflicted wounds closed, even though Arthur didn’t remember having cut deep enough to require them. Burn wounds traveled up his forearms, tracing the paths of his veins, making a mockery of them.
The Royal Healer had applied a healing cream to his skin and Arthur had watched the infused spells sink into his skin, numbing his inflamed nerves. Then fresh bandages were rolled on, the Healer periodically tucking medical charms in between layers of linen. Once again, Arthur was swathed from fingers to elbows. He’d been hit with a dusty memory of his first few days in Hazelbridge. Nostalgia and longing burned at the back of his eyes but he blinked it away and breathed.
And now he was dozing as he sat when someone knocked at the door. He squinted lethargically at the door before remembering to respond. “Yes?”
The door opened and a man dressed in the colours of a noble entered the room. The fine fabric of his clothes shimmered and the jewelry that adorned his person glinted as he walked. He moved as if he owned the place, swaggering with the insouciance that most aristocrats seemed to wear as a second skin. He nodded in greeting, lips quirked in amusement.
Arthur recognized his familiar face and sighed. “Finally decided to arrest me? Or have you come to kill me?”
Dark eyebrows lifted in surprise as the man stopped at the foot of his bed. “My, someone’s in a mood.”
The mage scowled up at the man. “Why else would you be here?”
The man scanned him from head to toe, gaze sharp and assessing. He leaned against the wall and tucked his thumbs into his belt. “The Regent sends his regards and his gratitude. You, Arthur of Hazelbridge, have singlehandedly done what no other mage could do. We thank you for your service to the Kingdom.”
Arthur frowned at him. “The Regent? Who’s ‘we’?”
The man’s lips curled up. “We’re grateful, but you must understand that some discretion must be exercised here. You’d be wise to not mention this incident to anyone not directly involved. Oh, don’t worry about everyone else. All the necessary parties have been informed. With only the most essential of information, of course.” He winked at Arthur. “You get to keep your anonymity, my friend. It’ll be like you were never there.”
Arthur shook his head slowly. “A whole contingent saw us. And what about the staff here that saw my wounds?”
The man’s smile did not slip. “You don’t need to worry about that.” He huffed and clicked his tongue at Arthur’s disbelieving face. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. No one’s going to die, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He pushed away from the wall to stand straight. “Now then, I’ll be taking my leave.” With a jaunty dip of the head, he left as quickly as he came.
Arthur rolled his eyes hard before a yawn overtook him. Settling back against his pillows, he considered the advantages and disadvantage of taking another impromptu nap. With him still bedbound and down two arms, there was precious little for him to do. Perhaps he should ask for a book or two to read. Although how he was going to turn the pages was a whole other matter. He was banned from using magic until further notice, and he could only watch the same spells float in the air for so long before getting bored.
There was another knock at the door and he sighed again, raising his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose before remembering the bandages. “What is it?”
The door opened slowly and a head poked through the open doorway. It was Alfred, looking towards the bed with a cautious expression that morphed into one of open joy when he saw Arthur. “Oh! You’re awake!” He slipped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
They stared at each other in silence before Alfred smiled bashfully at him. “Hey.”
Arthur’s heart squeezed painfully tight at the sight in front of him. He smiled back, much too soft and foolish. “Hey.”
Alfred hesitated, then sidled over to the chair next to Arthur’s bed and sat down, never once breaking eye contact. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better.” Arthur looked down at his bandages. “It’ll be a relief when these come off.” He looked back up at Alfred. “What about you? I was told you were discharged a while ago.”
The knight shrugged with one shoulder. “Yeah. My shoulder gave me a bit of trouble, but once that healed up the healers let me go.” He chewed his lip in a rare display of insecurity. “Can I hold your hand?”
Exhaling with amusement, Arthur held his bandaged arm out. “You can, but I should let you know I don’t feel much below the elbow right now.” He watched as Alfred took his hand in the gentlest of motions. “At most I can feel some pressure, but that’s about it. The medication the healers are using is very strong.”
Alfred looked down at Arthur’s bandaged hand. He brushed a tentative thumb over the back of it. “I visited you a bunch of times but you were always sleeping. And when you weren’t, I was stuck at Headquarters getting interrogated by people I’d never seen before. I can’t believe we’ve been issued a gag order.”
The mage quirked his lips wryly. “I suppose there are worse fates.” He imagined he could feel Alfred’s skin on his own. “I thought I saw you sitting with me once. I was glad to see you were well.”
Alfred gave his hand back and pulled the chair closer to the bed. “Well, now I’ll have lots of time to sit with you. Headquarters let me go and the High Captain gave me some time off.” He watched Arthur for a moment before his mood abruptly turned. Alfred’s face did something complicated before he said, “I wish you didn’t try to sacrifice yourself.”
Arthur was physically incapable of picking at his covers, so he looked away from Alfred’s unhappy face instead. “I couldn’t let you give up your life like that.”
The knight only frowned harder. “So you decide to give up yours? What if your spell backfired on you? Then it would’ve been for nothing.”
Arthur couldn’t look up from his lap. “I knew it would work. Utterly and surely, I knew that was the only way to end it all.”
Alfred only seemed to get more agitated by his conviction. “And exposing yourself to the dangers of blood magic was the only way? It was banned for a reason!”
The mage squeezed his eyes shut before finally meeting Alfred’s accusing glare. “That wasn’t the first time, Alfred.” He exhaled roughly in resignation. “I’ve done it before. Did you really not think my scars were odd?”
“You said-” Alfred’s face contorted with dawning horror. “You said those were from helping your family.”
Chuckling humourlessly, Arthur shifted his arms in a useless attempt at having something to do. “To be fair, I wasn’t lying. I really was helping my family out. It was a happy accident, I suppose you could say.” He held Alfred’s gaze. “I don’t regret my actions back then. I didn’t know any better at the time, but if I did I still would’ve done it. Anything to keep them – my brothers – alive.”
The younger man sat up straight. “Your brothers. Where are they?”
Arthur’s reply was deceptively calm, like he was commenting on the weather instead of the fact that he hadn’t seen his family since he was a child. “I don’t know.”
The ensuing silence was stiff and stilted. Neither of them said anything, Alfred processing the information he was given and Arthur only feeling a great fatigue. After fourteen years, he’d finally confessed his greatest secret to someone, and that someone was Alfred. There was no going back.
“So,” Alfred finally spoke again. “What now? Are we going to have to fight off people who try to arrest you?”
Arthur snorted at the image before he could stop himself. “I don’t think we need to worry about that. I’ve been told on good authority that my involvement in the whole debacle never happened.”
The knight leaned in, shock on his face and in his voice. “What? Who said that?”
Arthur shrugged, not caring as much as he should. “Never caught his name, I’m afraid. A man who seemed to know too much. He was quite pleased by the whole situation though, so I suppose we’re in his good graces for now.”
Alfred fell quiet again, clearly confused and skeptical. “That doesn’t sound very believable.”
Arthur’s lips tugged up into a faint smile at the other man’s disbelief. He scrutinized the features in front of him that were as familiar as his own. Alfred’s perpetual cowlick bobbed in the air with every movement he made, his hair shining like soft spun silk under the glow of the room’s spells. His eyebrows were scrunched and his lips were twisted in a great show of doubt. His eyes glittered like a bright summer sky, judgement radiating out unfettered.
Arthur let himself feel the fondness in his heart. He was warm with it, lightness bubbling through his being. He felt utterly free for once and it was foreign and marvelous. He held onto that feeling, committed it to memory. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
The knight’s attention turned to him faster than the blink of an eye. “Nope! I’m staying here with you for the whole day today.”
“You have some time then?” The older man asked.
Alfred nodded enthusiastically. “That’s right. You won’t be able to get rid of me even if you tried!”
Arthur felt ridiculously fond and he embraced it. “Then,” he paused, looking at Alfred again and took time to breathe in the lightness.
Filled with warmth, he opened his mouth and spoke.
“Let me tell you a story.”