Chapter Text
Arthur stood on top of a telephone pole, watching his subjects work. There were a few of them ploughing the field and each in different ways. One was forced to use a spoon, slowly making his way along. Some used an old-fashioned plough, one of them guiding the blade while two more pulled it. But, no matter how quickly or how slowly they made the furrows, when they reached the end of one, it would instantly disappear and they would have to begin the process all over again.
Above them, the Devil grinned, his tail waving behind him. Arthur enjoyed being the Queen of Spades, the part of Hell which punished people by making them do hard work. Each soul sent here was given a different impossible task, though they had expanded since the days of pushing boulders up hills. Then again, newcomers could still be forced to do that if the previous soul had finally become a demon, so it wasn't as outdated as people would think.
“Hey, you useless excuse for a Queen!” came a shout from below, interrupting Arthur's serene observation. Scowling, Arthur glanced down at Yao to see the Jack frowning up at him, his deeply black robes standing out against the dark earth. “You're needed at the palace. Get down here!”
With a roll of his eyes, Arthur stepped off the pole and plummeted to the ground. He didn't use his wings to stop himself, keeping them folded tight against his body. Instead, he let his impact create a massive crater, the cracks spreading to split the earth of the nearby field. The force caused his long, black coat to fly upwards, impressively fluttering before dropping down and stilling. It also knocked Yao backwards, though the Devil had the presence of mind to use his wings to keep from falling on his arse, his official robes rippling.
“What could possibly be required of me?” he asked once Yao had landed again. “Did our King send for me?”
“Of course not. The Jokers appeared. They gave me a message which I must relay to both of you.”
“Huh,” said Arthur, staring at the darkness above them. “Interesting.” He stepped forward to follow Yao and, as he took that step, the crater disappeared and the place righted itself. “You better not be lying. Isn't that right, Arnold?” he added to a man they were passing who was painting some white roses. The young soul startled and, trembling, nodded at Arthur who pointed at one of the roses which was now painted blue. “You've missed a spot,” he said. “You know I don't like sloppiness.”
“I-I-” the soul managed to say but Arthur raised a hand to stop him.
“Enough. I will send you to my playroom.” And, with a click of his fingers, the soul disappeared, replaced by a young woman who began the task instantly, her hand shaking.
Yao shook his head. “I don't understand your fascination with those roses.”
“It's a great way to instil fear.”
They made the rest of the way back in silence, soon coming to the black, jagged castle within which they resided – when they could be bothered returning, at least. Most of the rooms were useless and served to keep souls that took their interest or they wanted to toy with. Others they used for their own desires, if they had any. Arthur was sure Yao was celibate, an odd thing for a Devil; he had never seen Yao bring anyone into the palace save himself and the King and Yao only occasionally indulged them.
Inside, they crossed the entrance hall, flying over the constantly boiling water meant to trap souls stupid enough to try to enter. They flew into the throne room and that was where they found the King – and Arnold, trussed up at the King's feet and with multiple wounds. Arthur pouted and flew straight to his King's side. “Alfred!” he whined. “He was meant for me!”
“I got bored waiting for you,” Alfred told them with a wide grin. He grabbed Arthur's waist and tugged him down to sit sideways on his lap, pulling his legs up and over the arm of the large, navy-coloured throne. “You can play with him later. Or we can both play with him.”
Arthur flapped his wings slightly, settling in. “Mm, sounds fun. And enticing. How in Hell could I pass that up?”
At that point, there came the sound of someone clearing their throat and they both turned to Yao with raised eyebrows. “I did call you both here for a reason.”
At that, Arthur blinked; 'called them both here'. Did that mean Alfred hadn't been here? “You weren't in the throne room?” Arthur asked Alfred, wondering where he had gone, who he had been with. Usually Alfred had things and people brought to him so Arthur wondered what he had been up to or what could possibly be important enough for him to leave.
“I was bored,” Alfred repeated with a shrug. “What's the message, Yao?”
“It's time,” Yao replied.
“Oh. The Games already? It's not been long since the last ones, right?”
“It's been a few years, love,” Arthur replied, letting his tail search out Alfred's and twining them together. “What's the prize this time?” he asked Yao.
Indifferently, Yao said, “The winner picks one of the Queens to make use of for a year.”
Both Arthur and Alfred froze. Then Alfred dragged Arthur closer and Arthur gripped Alfred's coat tightly. “Is that a joke, Yao?” Alfred growled, his eyes flashing.
“When do I joke, sire,” replied Yao, snidely. “That is what the Jokers said. Shall I find some souls to take part?”
“Yes,” said Alfred, distractedly. “Go.” Yao wasted no time in following his order, flying across the room and out the door. Once he had left, Alfred turned to Arthur. “Artie...”
Pressing a kiss to the corner of Alfred's mouth, Arthur smiled at him, trying to appear encouraging. “We'll win. Don't worry.”
“Judging from the pattern,” Alfred murmured, not paying attention to Arthur's soothing hands on his shoulders, “the next Kingdom of Hell to win will be Clubs, not Spades. That's- Ivan!” Once again, Alfred's eyes flashed and his formidable dark aura began to expand to fill the room. His grip on Arthur tightened, squeezing him so tight that Arthur was sure his ribs would break. “I won't let him. I won't let him take you.”
“I...” Arthur began before pausing to regain his breath. “Why would he want me? He could have Lili or Kiku to play with instead – I'm sure they'd be more fun.”
“You know he wants you!” Alfred snapped, his tail tugging suddenly from Arthur's. Sharp pain at the base of Arthur's spine made him wince but he otherwise gazed up at Alfred calmly.
“Alfred, my dear,” he said, reaching up to cup Alfred's cheek. “I won't let them take me. Calm down before you kill the souls we need.”
Growling, Alfred's burning gaze turned to Arthur. It pierced him and made him feel despair and the utter hopelessness of trying. He gasped and stared, wide-eyed as his King glared at him. “It's not just Ivan,” he snapped. “Francis and Ludwig would love to make their mark on you, too.”
“C-Calm- I'm a master at cheating. We won't lose,” Arthur repeated, as firmly as he could while trapped in Alfred's dark aura. The feeling of uselessness continued to worm its way into him and he tried not to think about the constant torture he would witness in Clubs or the fighting souls in Diamonds or even the sexual torture in Hearts. None of that felt right to him and, if he was picked by the winner, he would no doubt be forced to be a part of it. But he was the Queen of Spades, he reminded himself, and he wouldn't bow down to anyone bar Alfred.
“We'd better not,” Alfred snarled and, without warning, buried his face in Arthur's neck and bit him. Arthur gasped as blood flowed from the wound, just the right amount of pain to be pleasurable, in his opinion. His eyes fluttered shut as Alfred licked up the blood and then sucked at the spot. It would leave a mark, Arthur knew, but he had no idea how long it would take to fade. Like most of Alfred's claiming marks, it was imbued with magic. “I won't let them take you,” Alfred murmured into Arthur's ear, seeming calmer suddenly.
“Would these souls suffice?” came Yao's voice and the King and Queen startled, sitting upright. They glanced at each other, bemused as usual at how Yao could appear without them feeling his presence. Turning to him, they found him with a dozen men and women of various shapes and sizes, including young Arnold, free from his bonds but with wounds which were still bleeding. He cowered when Arthur's eyes landed on him.
“I think that'll do,” Alfred told Yao, nodding in approval.
“They better win,” Arthur added, his glare sweeping the row. All of them gulped, though none of them knew what was going on.
“I have arranged for transport to the Jokers' Arena,” Yao told them. “But we can go now, if you are willing.”
Arthur nodded and stepped lightly down from the throne. Alfred also stood, immediately standing as close to Arthur as he could. Noting the King's coat was in disarray, Arthur smoothed it out so that the blue Spades were visible on his lapels. Meanwhile, Alfred reached up and straightened Arthur's little, blue hat which had slipped from its place on his horn. Then they turned and floated down to join Yao.
“Yeah,” said Alfred. “Let's go.”
“Let the Games begin,” Arthur added, grinning wickedly as they flew off, tail entwined once more with Alfred's.