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The first time they meet, they're both nothing more than teenagers. Not teenagers, exactly, that hasn't been the truth for a long time. No one like them has ever really been a kid, no one like them has ever really been anything like a kid. But they both look like young men, that's for sure.
Callum told them everything about the boy he met years ago, lost in the woods. Callum told them how he helped him and how they played together until the other boy had to go back. How he came back every day for a whole month, how they spend every day together. Until Francis had to finally go back home.
Callum told them who Francis was and proceeded to ignore the warning in Saoirse’s eyes and Bran’s feeble questions. Arthur didn’t really get it. Francis was the son of the man - the Empire - who was trying to conquer them. Admittedly, he was failing at conquering them, yes. But still.
Arthur didn’t really get it, why Callum was willing to risk for the sake of another boy.
Arthur didn’t get it. He thinks he gets it better, now.
Francis looks like a girl. Or at least that's what Arthur thinks the first time he sees the other boy. Arthur studies those long, blond hair and those feminine clothes and those regal manners and really cannot believe it when Callum tells him Francis is a boy.
They're spying on him - or, better, they're spying on the Roman contingent and it's just a coincidence they've both been looking at Francis for the past two hours.
Arthur knows the look on Callum's face. Unfortunately. It's the look that makes every single girl in the country suddenly very weak in the knees.
Arthur rolls his eyes and shakes his head and Callum pretends he doesn't notice.
“Father, father!” Francis calls out and Arthur swears under his breath because even his voice is beautiful and that's not fair. “Can I go now? Yesterday I found a lovely clearing in the woods, not too far away from here and I want to go back there.”
“Are you sure it's safe?”
Francis' father seems worried about his son's well-being. Arthur can't exactly blame him. At the same time, Arthur is now really fucking worried about that man. He has never, ever seen a man that big. Everything about him screams danger, from the hulking muscles of his arms to the way he walk and talk. He looks like he could rip a man in half and Arthur isn't sure he'd like to see what happens if that man gets really mad.
And yet, the way he talks to his son? He looks like a different person, he looks like the most loving human being in the whole universe.
“Yes, I'm sure. It's not that far away from here, I'll be perfectly safe!” Francis is almost chirping and his father can't help but smile when Francis plants a kiss on his cheek.
“You know I can't say no to you.”
“I know. I love you, father!”
“But I'd be less worried if you were to take someone with you.”
“Oh... I understand, father. I think I'll ask Claudius to come with me, then!” Francis is smiling in a way that can only mean trouble and Arthur immediately gets what that is about. There's a soldier that almost trips over himself to reach them and stands at attention the second Francis' father looks over him. It's really too obvious.
“If you touch my son with a single finger I'll kill you with my bare hands,” he almost singsongs, making that sentence even scarier. The poor soldier visibly swallows and then follows Francis, who is already running towards the woods.
“Come on, let's go,” Callum whispers and starts following the other two from a safe distance. Arthur is perfectly aware of his brother's frown and he's not really sure he understands why. They're really good at hiding - and hiding is easy if you know the place better than anyone.
When they get to the clearing Francis was talking about, things get even weirder. The trees aren’t dense enough and the light makes the stream gleam in the sun. Arthur knows the place well enough, but the fact that Francis looks amazed by what he sees doesn’t go lost on him.
Callum groans loudly and Arthur is still left to wonder why, exactly, his brother is acting like that. That is before he sneaks a look from behind a tree and he sees Francis, openly flirting with the soldier.
“It’s so kind of you to keep me safe from those barbarians,” Francis says in a voice so sultry Arthur is sure there must be something wrong with his lungs. Apparently he doesn't fucking know how to breathe anymore. “I know I’m perfectly safe with you.”
The soldier is almost choking on thin air - Francis knows it and it really shows in the way he’s smiling and in the way he’s moving. Arthur didn’t think it was even possible for someone to sway their hips in that way while walking.
“I just hope father won’t see you so close to me,” Francis continues, visibly enjoying the effect he’s having on the poor soldier. “You know how he can be, when he’s angry.”
The soldier mumbles something, clearly terrified, and Francis takes the opportunity. “Of course! Why don’t you wait for me just outside the camp? I’ll be perfectly safe and you won’t be in any trouble. I’d hate to get you in trouble.”
The soldier doesn't talk, clearly trying to choose the lesser of two evils. Finally he nods, almost shakily, running away towards the camp.
“Well, that was really something,” Callum’s voice is filled with sarcasm, but he also seems genuinely admired.
“That was a genius move, is that what you were trying to say?”
“Maybe.”
“You can say you're impressed, I won't tell anyone,” Francis smiles and laughs wholeheartedly when Callum hugs him and lifts him in the air.
“It's good to see you again,” Callum looks visibly happy and Francis talks in a voice that makes Arthur's stomach clench with something he doesn't really recognize.
“It's good to see you too.”
“I'm glad you managed to run away from your father.”
“I didn't run away! I'm just- having some fun, a bit far from him. And he's just worried, he'd let me do anything otherwise.”
“Maybe he’s worried a kelpie will come and drag you in the water. Or maybe he's worried a big, strong savage will take away his precious son,” Callum is smirking and when he shows off his arms Francis starts laughing again.
Arthur feels like he shouldn't be there. Arthur doesn't like anything that is happening right now. He doesn't like his brother's behavior, he doesn't like how Francis' eyes shine whenever Callum talks, he doesn't like the fact that he feels weird and he doesn't know why. He doesn't like anything that is happening right now and he doesn't really want this to continue.
“I'm going home,” he blurts out, coming out from his hiding place behind the tree. He realizes how dumb that choice was the exact second they both turn to look at him - and, damn, he's blushing like an idiot.
“Oh, right- Francis, this is my brother!”
“It's so nice to meet you!” but Francis is smiling - he's smiling to him, now - and he's looking at him like he's expecting something and Arthur just wants to run away, really, but he can't because that would be so dumb and he's already looking like a complete idiot by remaining silent and-
“Yeah. I'm going home.”
And this doesn't make it any better, no, but it's too late now. Arthur already said those words and it's not like he can apologize because he's a complete idiot and didn't know what to say. Callum looks pissed off and Arthur is pretty sure they're gonna fight, later.
“Hey, dumbass, don’t be rude to Francis.”
“No, it's okay, really- I didn't know you were with him and maybe your brother just wanted to spend some time with you?” Francis is smiling with kindness and Arthur can feel his cheeks almost burning. He's talking to him like he's a kid? He's talking to him like he's a little kid who's making a scene because he needs his big brother? How dares he!
“Fuck off, both of you!” he blurts out before running away, ignoring Callum's shouts and the fact that they're most definitely gonna fight, later.
Arthur still doesn't understand why he did any of that. It's the first time since he can remember that he felt that way, it's the first time since he can remember that he felt that mixture of anxiety and awkwardness - and no, he doesn't like that at all. Especially when he stops and thinks again about what happened and he realizes it probably was because of Francis. He doesn't really know how to explain that, he doesn't. But he does know it was because of Francis, is the only possible explanation.
“So,” in the evening, Saoirse sits next to him, watching their youngest brother wildly running around. “Callum told me what happened today.”
“What did he tell you? He doesn't know anything.”
“Well, he knows what happened. He knows what you told him.”
Arthur hates when Saoirse sounds like their mother - when she sounds so adult and reasonable. He really hates it. She makes him feel dumb and petulant like a little child. He’s not a little child, he’s never been that. Saoirse has no right - and it’s not like she actually is their mother. She’s a fuck up just like him.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? To me or to Bran or-”
“If you say Callum I swear I'm gonna run away.”
“You can talk to us, Arthur. We're your family.”
“But I don't need to talk to anybody.”
“… Suit yourself.”
The second time they met, Francis hasn’t changed at all, even though years have passed. Arthur, on the other side-
"Arthur! You've grown so much!" Francis sounds genuinely impressed and there's a small part of Arthur's brain that is almost gloating. Francis looks as beautiful as he did all those years ago and Arthur is sure he could find the words to say that, given enough time. And it’s not just that, it’s not just the way Francis looks. It’s the way he acts and those kind smiles and those happy laughs and the way he moves and the fact that he’s always gentle and posed and Arthur is really, really fucked.
"Yeah, well. It's been some time," and he almost feels happy because this feels like a chance? He actually has a chance to talk to Francis alone. And he doesn't know why he cares so much. He just knows there's this warm feeling inside his chest and that he really likes that feeling and that he'd like to feel like that for the rest of his existence. "... You always look the same."
Francis looks half disappointed and half hurt and Arthur would really, really like to hit himself in the face.
"Do I hear the voice of the most beautiful human being in the whole world?" Callum is loud as usual and is always able to say just the right thing. Unlike Arthur. If he were able to say something like that maybe Francis would actually want to-
"It's good to see you, Arthur," Francis kisses his cheek before following Callum and Arthur is suddenly unable to move a single muscle. He can hear them laughing in the distance, though, and the warm feeling in his chest is already gone.
Saoirse makes him behave, in the next days, as well as he can. The days of the Roman military campaign are long gone and Francis tells them that his father has no intention of coming back. He has other problems and other territories to conquer and they aren’t exactly upset by that news.
Francis doesn't seem upset.
He and Callum look at each other with some kind of feeling Arthur is too scared to correctly identify.
His whole family seems to love Francis. Saoirse talks to him with ushered voices and makes him tell her about all the places he saw and the journeys he made. Bran wants to know everything about the place he lives in. Ossian, who's still a baby and who still can't talk much, squeaks with joy when Francis holds him in his arms.
And Callum, well. Callum is in love with him. Every idiot could tell. And Gods be damned if Arthur isn't a complete idiot.
“I don't know when I can come back. My father wants me there with him.”
“But I want to see you again. And you'll miss me too much to resist.”
“You could come visit me.”
Callum nods but he has something in his eyes that makes it clear he won't. Francis knows. Callum knows. They all know.
Arthur thinks he's completely mad. If Francis looked at him with those eyes and asked him to jump off a cliff, he'd happily do it.
He'd do anything.
It takes him a few more years to finally get exactly why he felt the way he felt. Well, not exactly, exactly.
There's this girl who likes the forest as much as he does and she happens to like him too. There's the day when she kisses him and Arthur feels a smaller version of the same tingling, warm sensation he felt the day he first saw Francis. And then he feels just as dumb and unable to do even the simplest thing and he suddenly gets it.
But the fact is he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to understand why he felt that way. Why he feels this way every time he thinks about Francis’ eyes and his smile and the way he talks and the way he moves and the way he laughs.
He doesn’t want to think about these things and he certainly doesn’t want to think about why he still thinks about Francis.
Francis comes and goes and when he comes he still spends most of his time with Callum. And it’s obvious, really, how could that be any different? Callum is older, bigger, funnier. Callum is the good looking one while Arthur is the scrawny, sulky teenager.
There isn’t any chance for him, and he knows it.
It’s the second time in his life Arthur realizes how love can actually hurt. He loved his mother more than anybody else and his mother is gone and he has a void inside he can't seem to fill - and he can’t do anything about it and he certainly can’t go back in time and just stop caring about his own mother.
But Francis? Arthur can stop feeling those things he feels for Francis. He’s sure he can stop - damn, he most certainly can try.
Francis tells them he’ll come back in the next five years.
He doesn’t.
Ten years go by, then twenty, then thirty, then so many more. Francis doesn’t come back. Eventually news of what happened in the continent reach them. Callum stops asking questions when he hears about the invasions. Saoirse looks troubled, Bran worries about their own safety.
After a while, they find out they’re gonna have more pressing problems. After a while, they find out exactly what the news from the continent means.
(Ships, dreadful and silent, similar to the sea dragons of the tales Arthur used to love as a kid. Fire and flames and blood in the night. His family forced apart to take care of their territories. Fire and screams and loneliness.)
Arthur never stops wondering what’s happening to Francis.