Work Text:
Hope
Meaning: a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.
late Old English hopa (noun), hopian (verb), of Germanic origin; related to Dutch hoop (noun), hopen (verb), and German hoffen (verb).
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It was easier to play pretend than admit that Alfred liked them more than he should. Looking at both the Queen and King from the sides, watching and observing in the name of his duty as a Knight to see the King (bright eyes and loud laughter) put a beautiful red rose on the Queen (serene smiles and a soft voice), tucking it behind his ear and cupping the smaller man gently to press a kiss on the tip of the Queen's nose. The Royal couple walking around the garden of mystical statues that Alfred swears moves every time they would visit the garden with it's bright red roses that were rumored to be the love of all the other Queens and Kings that came before them.
A kingdom so… filled with love…
He wouldn't have believed it if not for the chance of being able to be a Black Knight (a shame that his family name carries for it was his father who cheated) though his allegiance lays elsewhere and not to the two Royals who trusts him with their whole being. Enough to command their usual groups of guards to leave, all except him.
"Alfred would protect us!" The King would insist, not acting like the King he should be by pushing his guards away. Almost tripping on his own feet at his excitement of going around the same old halls, same old paths, same old sights but each time, he would say there is something new- something different because by then, he would have known more. Experienced more.
Loved more.
Though Alfred, if it was in the past, would have blushed and shaken his head. Always trying to remain humble and reject the mere idea solely because it was far too dangerous. He has to because what if there were assassins nearby? He can’t possibly win against all of them with him trying to protect the two. Except nowadays, he’s becoming more and more… lax?
Laughing carefree, ignoring his duties (the real ones and not this play-pretend the chess pieces of the board insists of doing) in favor of playing with the King who would pull him up front. Flanked by both the King and the Queen, going around the garden as the warmth of their presences burns his skin and makes itself known with every little step they take over stone paths. The King would tugged him to places, showing off the garden he had seen more than once already while the Queen would always have some tidbits of knowledge about this and that-
They made quite a pair, Alfred would always think. Seeing how they were both in tandem, always dancing about each other’s steps. One person pulling while the other pushes then vice versa. It was like the sea and the moon, always at balance. Always orbiting around one another and Alfred would be lying if he wouldn’t say he wasn’t envious of such a loving relationship.
He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t envious of how honest they were with each other… and with him and it pains him physically, heart stopping and chest aching, with the knowledge he can’t be the same to them. Not when he had already binded himself to a Queen- someone who isn’t kind and someone who isn’t sweet, someone who’s love tastes like rotten apples and sweet honey, mixed together with the tang and sharpness of alcohol.
Alfred lives in a lie and oftentimes, that knowledge haunts him. Everyday is a masquerade, people wearing masks and veils to hide their intentions- their truth and Alfred dreads the moment his mask were to be ripped off. Revealing all the ugly parts of himself, all the lies he carefully stacked on top of one another tumbling down and he would be left in the middle of the flames he created.
It was not the death that would follow which he is terrified of but rather the tears he knew would spill from the eyes of the Black King. The guilt which would be way heavier than the fear of the blade soon looming over his neck- and the cold eyes of the Queen who would not hesitate to order his death.
It was the loss of warmth (the loss of love) which Alfred dreads. The familiarity of their presences leaving him solely because of his actions. Frankly, to put it into simpler terms- he’s terrified of answering and paying for his actions that he knows isn’t right.
But he is merely a knight. No titles, no anything- just a Knight who bears the robes of black, a sword of steel marked with red with the name of his mother engraved on the hilt. Though it was white he first wore, he knows until the end of time, he would be wearing black.
(If he could help it. If he was allowed. If the Black Kingdom still stands and his King and Queen are happy.)
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To his surprise, it was the Queen who approached him first rather than the King. The dark-haired man calling him to his office- another office that was far from the King’s Palace and at first, Alfred thought he was figured out. The Queen had his mysterious ways after all and oftentimes, not even the King is aware of it happening until after the problem has already been solved.
“Thank you for coming here Alfred.” Kiku greets him, smiling as he pours the two of them tea. “Though you shouldn’t have run towards here. A lot of people might speculate a lot of things by now.” Though there were… implications of something much more, the tone was light and teasing. The Queen himself is close to smiling but in the eyes of others, they might only see him lifting the edges of his lips.
However Alfred knows him or at least likes to think he knows him well.
“Well, you hardly call me- your highness.” He flinches, almost forgetting to add the title. He has a bad habit of just… forgetting that he can’t casually call the Royal couple just how he would call his cousin and his… partners.
“Kiku. Please.” The Queen corrects him. “We might be spending much more time together in the near future.”
Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good at all. It actually sounds rather… off-putting like there was something the Queen knows and no one else knows and Alfred doesn’t know what he should say or do at the sight of the Queen smiling so mysteriously. He clumsily brings his cup of tea to his lips, taking a small sip and grimacing at the taste of it- still not a big fan of it as much as he would drink it every time he would spend time with the man in front of him or with his… cousin back at home.
He couldn’t stop himself from laughing a bit nervously. “Is… is this a good thing?” It sounds like a bad thing out of context, context of which Alfred has none of and he tries not to fiddle with the handle of the cup too much. “Or it’s something… bad?”
“Depends really on how you look at it.” Kiku answers, drinking his own tea calmly and slowly. One hand holding the cup from below while the other holds it the normal way. “In the end, it all depends on perspective as how you would see it but as for me…”
“Alfred-” he sits up straighter, a bit nervous at having those wise eyes staring at him. “There will only be one Black Queen in this generation as long as His Majesty is on the throne.”
… “Okay?” He wasn’t so sure if that was the right answer but it was worth it at seeing and hearing Kiku laugh.
“So my apologies. It’s just that… Feliciano and I had made a promise when we were younger and I’m not really the… sharing type but you make him happy.” Kiku confesses, putting down his cup to reach out for Alfred’s hand. The touch was cold but there was only warmth in his heart at the small squeeze the Queen gave him. “You make me happy and though there will only be one Queen in papers and in powers, you will still be treated as such.”
Alfred didn’t understand why they were talking about it but before he could even question it, Kiku moved on to talking about guard rotations and other things that they both need to handle. Asking him about his day, about his family and if he had told them of his promotion yet and all of those, he answered with a lie.
It would only make sense for him about what Kiku had said to him when one day- while he was accompanying the King around the garden once more, just the two of them today since the Queen was feeling a bit under the weather- he found himself being kissed. The taste of sugar and cream and oranges, something uniquely Feliciano’s and when they separated, the King smiled at him.
Not grin! But smile. A sincere smile while his gloved hands reach out for his cheeks, murmuring confessions of love. Poetry Alfred has an inkling he had help from the Queen and- oooooh.
Oh.
The King loves him but there will only be one Queen in their generation… So that’s what he meant. He knew what Feliciano was planning to do and Alfred could only lean back down, pressing a kiss to the babbling man. Reciprocating his affection with just as much love he is capable of giving.
Well! That’s fine for Alfred! He doesn’t mind it at all!
(He doesn’t deserve a crown anyway.)
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It was far too soon.
Something Alfred didn’t know that his cousin would do all of a sudden until it was too late and he finds himself running in the middle of a battlefield of what used to be the Palace of Ebony. Trying to search for his King and Queen (his lovers) despite his allegiance and vows towards the Kingdom of White. He knew where to go, he only needed to follow the bright lights he knows must be coming off Arthur’s magic and he tried.
He didn’t know- he didn’t know it at all. He thought he had time. More chances to patch things up between the Kingdoms so there would be no war and no blood spilled. No innocent deaths and no more pain and fighting. Except his cousin, always the one to make abrasive decisions in the end, made a choice and now, he wants Alfred to make his own.
But how could he make his own choice when the moment he enters the area where he knows his cousin is in, he finds himself pausing right in front of the entryway. “Kiku… Feliciano…” He murmurs as his eyes widen, looking at the Queen who is on the ground, eyes blank as he cradles something weakly in his arms.
No. Not something but rather someone.
Alfred barely could recognize the Black King, not with how pale and still he is. Gone is the energy he had come to associate with the man. Gone was his laughter and smile and everything that makes Feliciano… Feliciano and he were there just in time to hear Kiku utter the following words.
“Tell the people we have lost and the King is dead.”
Feliciano is dead and it’s all Alfred’s fault.
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Visiting the Queen after the battle- after the funeral- was a mistake and Alfred was only aware of it when he found himself intruding in the silence of the hall. The Queen on the ground, still sitting right on the spot where the King had died and how his heart aches but Alfred fears he has no right to comfort the man after his actions (or his lack of thereof).
Alfred takes a deep breath. “Your Majesty.” He greets, solemnly and quietly. Not quite sure if he is allowed to call him by his name anymore. Not after what he has done.
"Leave." Kiku tells him, rising from the floor. His eyes bloodshot and dark, red rimmed and there was no light in them; only an exhausting darkness. "Leave now Alfred."
The knight (the traitor) shuffles near the door, uncomfortable at the sight of the once-powerful queen looking so... Defeated. "I only want to check if you're okay-"
"And I am."
He doesn't look okay- and from those who have yet to hate him or know the truth of their loss, they tell him the Queen haven't been sleeping or eating after the fall of their King—
And it's all Alfred's fault and every night, he prays to the stars. Whispering the same prayer he hears Feliciano sing when the morning comes, hoping for forgiveness. Begging for forgiveness and redemption.
To atone for his sin and at the sight of the Queen, he finds no prayers on the tip of his tongue nor silvery sweet words. Only an apology he swallows down when the Queen laughs.
The sound echoing rather hauntingly in the now lonely and bloodstained hall of the main palace. "Leave Alfred, I do not wish to harm you no longer."
Wrong- no.
No.
It was Alfred who have harmed him. It was Alfred who sold them out- it was him who lied and lied, shattering promises until there is nothing but dust at their feet, and he is powerless when the wind takes them away. Bringing them somewhere—
Somewhere that Alfred cannot follow.
"You need rest." He ignores it, taking a small step forward. One hand reaching out to barely touch the Queen's robes, they were the same robes he wore since the battle, but before his hands could even touch the edge, the Queen turns around. Avoiding him and everything he represents.
"Leave Alfred." Kiku tells him sternly, a voice cold as ice and frozen as the ice that now fills the space between. "I will not have you here tomorrow."
…
Tomorrow?
"The... Wedding?" He asks hesitantly. Though the King (Feliciano is dead and it's all his fault), the Kingdom cannot progress without one and the Kingdom of White oh so mercily told the Kingdom of Black they would save them as long as Kiku were to join the White King’s ranks of Queens. Something Alfred personally thinks is rather stupid because they are only parading themselves as kind.
As benevolent and peace-loving when it was them who had planned for the destruction of the Kingdom. It was them who had made choices concerning what to do with the lives of the remaining Black Pieces- how many of them already died. Only the Queen and a Bishop remain and two of them are to marry into the Kingdom of White as Queens.
“The Wedding.” Kiku nods. "I rather die than be a Queen to a King who has no care nor love for his people. My greatest shame will not be being able to protect my King but rather if I were to marry a King who is nothing but a child with a crown, a puppet for the shadows and a weakling who speaks lies and false news all in the name of his reputation and the power he clearly doesn't have. To continue that marriage is asking for death and so-"
He stares at the ceiling, a lonely smile gracing his face and Alfred wants to cry at the sight. He stands there all alone, and at the back of his mind he can’t help but think ‘Feliciano should have been by his side. By your side. By our side.’ Except he made his choice and now he has to face the consequences of his actions.
Kiku continues to talk, never once looking at him. "Tomorrow Alfred- I will die on my own terms. Not by the hands of marriage or the power of the White Kingdom."
Such strong words but who else would dare to speak like that? To think so differently that it was an art of beauty. An art form molded through the years of practice and careful calculations, moments thought and prepared for again and again and Alfred can only listen. Never once speaking.
"If you love me still. If you still have any love for me and the memory of Feliciano then please leave. I do not wish to let you bear the future burdens of my actions. Please Alfred- this is my last wish to you. Not as Kiku, not as your lover-"
Lover. It was the first time Kiku had called himself his lover. The first time he had acknowledged the feelings between them; the truth between their kisses behind thick pillars and tall hedges, the soft hands against his chest and pushing him down as the Queen looms over him and Alfred-
But god who is Alfred to say no to the request?
"But as your Queen. Please leave before tomorrow."
He is merely a Knight to his soft-hearted Queen and once upon a time, he used to be the knight of a benevolent King.
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Alfred left the city just as he was ordered.
The news of the Queen’s death- stabbing himself right in front of the crowd as he tells his citizens that this will not be the end- arriving in the form of a magical white feline. His cousin’s familiar looking at him with sharp green eyes and the more Alfred stares at it- the more his anger burns. The more his pain aches and his wounds fester with the memories- with the lies he was fed and the actions he had done. The more the memories of happier times get painted in black and white, like an aged old photograph. Times of when Alfred was free to simply be and laughing underneath the sun as both his partners smile at him indulgently.
“I’m not going back.” He croaks to the familiar, burying himself in his blankets he had asked for. “I’m not going back there.” To the city in which both of his lovers died by his hands. To the side of his cousin who did nothing but take and take and take everything away from him until there is nothing left. To wear white once more and stand by their side as a Knight rather than a knight. To swear his allegiance to the King who stood silently as his people cried and died.
“I'd rather die.” than go back to a world where he would find himself alone and faced with the gravestones of where the names of his beloveds is engraved to.
People hailed him as a hero but to those who really know what happened, they call him a coward. A cowardly Hero and there is nothing more fitting than that title. No one knows what happened to him at the end of the narrative. Some say he died, the loneliness taking him under and he rejoins his lovers in the afterlife, covered in fields of gold and white. Finally happy, a salvation given to him after years of being alone and suffering. While others would say he was killed by the Queen, deposing him after his continuous rejections of returning to his side. A piece thrown to the side and crushed.
Just like how he had crushed the hearts of those who trusted him.
Though there are those who would say he is still out there- traveling even after the Kingdom of White turns into the Kingdom of Hearts and from two kingdoms, there are now four. Each bearing the colors of the world aside from the monochrome right and wrong. Bearing eyes that glows with power and an ancient anger he would never forget.
Not even after he had died and be reborn.
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…
…
“Hello!” A pale boy greets him, smiling down from an apple tree. The Future Queen of Hearts pauses, tugging his Future Jack backwards to protect him. An instinct engraved in him despite their roles needing to be the opposite. It is not the Queen who protects the Jack but rather the Jack who would protect the Queen. If it was any other, the Future Queen would have screamed and called for their guards. Who in their right minds would even think about trespassing in the Holy Gardens of the Heart Empire?
Except, Kiku finds something about the boy’s smile almost recognizable but he shakes his head, taking a step back to be able to look up fully at his… odd visitor. Feliciano hides behind him, peering right over his shoulder as the younger boy tugs on his sleeves. ‘Careful’ he seems to say, trying to make himself smaller at the sight of the boy on the tree staring at them both with bright sparkling blues.
“Hello?” Kiku answers a bit hesitantly, watching him with a warriness that a child should not have. “Why are you here?” Direct and straight to the point, he does not trust anyone. He had learned not to trust anyone as a child and the only person he would ever let himself do so is the child behind him. His Jack- his Future second in command and the boy waves at them, eyes glowing by the minute with happiness.
“Hello!” The boy jumps down, the wind breaking his fall and Kiku feels Feliciano shuffling behind him, appearing just for a moment to stare in awe at the descent. Kiku keeps his face neutral, not really wanting to show off his shock at the display of what he can easily presume as magic. “Good golly! I don’t really know now?”
Kiku gets the feeling he was lying. The boy obviously knows where he is- no dumb person would enter this land without permission of the current Queen. But not only that, the boy was rubbing the back of his neck- a sure tell of a liar and he can’t help but take a step backwards once more. Dragging Feliciano alongside him. If this… boy makes a move then more or less then they would book it.
Together.
“I was just in one place and then I found myself here! But like, I don’t think it’s really a problem ya’know? I tried finding my way back by climbing the tree but all I could see were roses after roses! Whoever owns them must love roses-”
“They’re mine.” Kiku blurts out. Feliciano giggling at how he had interrupted the boy. “The roses I mean- they’re mine. At least someday in the future.” He’s not lying per say. Technically it is his because he is the Future Queen of Hearts and whoever gets to be the Queen of Hearts would own the garden.
“Oh?” The boy leans forward, rather excitedly!” They’re so beautiful! You must be quite a gardener!” Kiku is frankly not but he was planning to learn. Feliciano simply couldn’t take it anymore- bursting into laughter and leaning against Kiku’s back.
“Ah! Anyway! Yea, I got lost so now here we are! Nice to meet you! My name is Alfred F. Jones! Future King of Spades as soon as I find my Queen- or rather Queens if I’m lucky!” He thrusts out a hand in between them and Kiku, even the polite but rather skeptical one, looks at it before gingerly shaking it once.
“Pleasure to meet you…” Is this kid really the famed genius of Spades? Kiku doesn’t know and he isn’t so sure. “My name is Honda Kiku. Last name, first name- it’s a family tradition and this one is Feliciano Vargas. It’s…”
“It’s nice to meet you.”