Chapter Text
For as long as he could remember, Alfred knew that he was destined to do something great. He was told this ever since his birth, when his parents spotted the King’s mark above his heart. He was determined to be a powerful, but kind King, he spent his nights fantasising over what he was going to and who he was going to be when he grew up, he yearned to be loved by his people, and to love them back. As a child he would follow around his predecessor like a puppy, taking mental notes of his posture, his eyes as they narrowed in thought and his voice as he spoke, trying his best to mimic everything he did, much to the joy of the women of the castle.
But as he changed from a child to a man, he began to see things differently; he became tired of seeing the same walls, the same portraits and the same people. In the tradition of secrecy, Alfred was barred from leaving the castle, caught in intense study. No matter how much he complained, he was only told that it was the way things were. He wanted to meet his people, he wanted to explore his own Kingdom before he became King, but apparently tradition would not allow it. The King is supposed to focus on the Kingdom, and the Kingdom alone.
By the time he was seventeen, he lived in the same castle as his Queen, and hadn’t even met them. It enraged him beyond comprehension; he could not see who he was ruling and who will rule beside him, he saw only pointlessness in every tradition that tried to dictate his life. Despite this bitterness, he followed every single one.
“Prince Alfred, this is Prince Arthur; he is going to be the next Queen.”
Their eyes met and the world around Alfred slowed down as his heartbeat raced.
The young man before him sucked in a sharp breath, as his round green eyes widened from underneath his bold eyebrows, taking in the image of Alfred’s stunned stare. Alfred couldn’t pull his eyes away from him, like he was a fly caught in a spider’s web. For once he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t complaining about tradition, he finally saw hope in his future. The teenagers did not notice the courtiers around them frown in confusion as the next King and Queen stared at each other in silence.
To Alfred, Arthur looked perfect, like sunshine after a bitter winter night. Alfred could not help but take note of every single detail of Arthur’s face. His light blonde hair fell lightly across his soft pale skin, his pixie nose and how his cheeks reddened the longer they stared at each other. Some kind of sense within Alfred told him that Arthur was thinking the same things about him.
Alfred struggled to find the will to break the eye contact, or force words to end the silence.
“Is something wrong?”
“No!” Arthur squeaked as Alfred felt his face begin to burn from the obvious reddening of his cheeks He did not know what to do, or what to say: he had never been caught so off-guard by anyone like that before.
Even Arthur’s voice sent a wave of relief through Alfred, making him sigh loudly from the softness of his charming accent. Alfred was able to quickly pinpoint the accent’s origin, he had heard of a place near the Spades forest, where villages had been set up. He knew that the people there often had pale skin and never tanned, which was a stark contrast to Alfred, whose skin was tanned from the exposure to the sun that plagued the capital of Spades, his birthplace.
When Alfred looked back at Arthur, he could see that the young man appeared just as flustered, his hands refusing to find a comfortable position, changing from behind wrapped over his chest, to being firmly at his side.
“Splendid, from now on, you two will be conducting your studies together,” The tutor explained. “You two should expect to be crowned in a couple of years’ time.”
“I…” Alfred murmured, struggling to hear his own thoughts over the intensity of his beating heart induced by Arthur’s hypnotic eyes, Alfred lifted his hand to shake Arthur’s amazed by how soft and maintained his skin was, and how delicate and fragile his hand felt to touch, Alfred could only liken it to stroking porcelain… “I look forward to being—work—STUDYING with you…” Alfred stuttered, mentally cursing himself for his awkwardness; however Arthur chuckled and shook Alfred’s hand, holding it tightly.
It was as though as soon as their encounter began, it had to end. Before Alfred and Arthur could get too deep into conversation, Arthur had to be escorted away by his courtiers; apparently meeting his King was not the top priority on his schedule.
Alfred could only watch as Arthur was escorted away but his eyes still kept on Alfred, as though begging for the encounter to not end there. Alfred could see him speaking to his courtiers, but it seems that they replied with the same words that had always been said to Alfred, ‘it is tradition.’
As Alfred went about with the rest of his mundane, heavily monitored day, he could not stop picturing Arthur’s eyes as he was being led away, like he was experiencing the same pain and annoyance as Alfred had been daily for years.
Alfred could not sleep that night; he tossed and turned in his luxury bed and noticed as his eyes gradually became more accustomed to the darkness. His heart raced as he laid on his back and stretched out his arms, his heart raced as he yearned to see him again, it was as though something had awoken from deep within him. Something about Arthur drew Alfred to him, Arthur made him feel like being a King is going to be fantastic; Arthur had awoken his childish excitement for the future.
The next morning, he harrowed and nagged his courtiers to challenge the schedule to let him see Arthur, however, yet again, in the name of tradition: contact is limited to hourly sessions, of which they were not allowed to speak unless spoken to.
Alfred was still angry over the fact that he was not allowed to meet Arthur earlier, it relight old grievances of his as well. Like the fact that he hasn’t been able to see his own brother in months, all because he was training to be the next Ace: All because of damned tradition.
Tradition dictated the lives of the Spades, and Alfred could only wonder whether other monarchs experienced the same things.
Alfred also couldn’t help but wonder whether other Kings felt the same way about their Queens as he did…
Before he knew it, nearly a year of these tutoring sessions had passed.
Alfred had sat next to Arthur hundreds of times, unable to speak with him, unable to do anything but watch him. And he knew that there were times where Arthur was watching him, they’d even catch each other: before the tutor snapped and demanded their attention.
It was painful to watch Arthur walk away and stare at him, pleading that Alfred chase after him… The sight of Arthur’s cloak floating around his black shoes as he walked brought pain to Alfred’s heart. He had to fight the urge to run to him and demand that their conversation continue. It angered him, Arthur is going to be his Queen, and they’re expected to work together for the good of the Kingdom: they should at least get to know each other before they’re forced into the throne-room together for the rest of their lives!
Alfred finally had his chance when they were introduced to a lesson that was focussed on the art of dance, since the Spades Ball was coming up soon, it would be proper for the future King and Queen to learn the proper ballroom etiquette.
“It is proper that you learn to waltz.”
“Will we be attending the ball?” Arthur asked, his eyes widening with excitement, sending a shiver of joy through Alfred’s heart: he was happy to see Arthur smiling like that.
“Yes, and no,” The tutor replied, “You will see the ball from the balconies above.”
“But that means that we won’t be able to meet the monarchs from the other Kingdoms. In fact, we haven’t even met our own Jack! And Arthur doesn’t know the Ace!” Alfred pointed out, becoming visibly agitated after seeing Arthur’s disappointment.
“Sir Yao is in intense training at this current moment, he does not have time to formally meet you two, but don’t worry: the time will come,” the tutor replied firmly, reacting to Alfred’s blatant defiance. “And Sir Matthew is training as well, in fact: you two are in training as well, now please try to focus.”
Alfred watched silently and held his breath as Arthur removed his dark blue cloak, revealing the slender frame that was hidden underneath. He wore a simple tanned waistcoat, with a soft and flowy white blouse, with dark pants and black boots that reached his knees. Alfred couldn’t help but smile when Arthur realised that Alfred was watching him.
“Place your hand on his shoulder…” The tutor ordered as he guided Arthur’s hand onto Alfred’s shoulder, and Alfred’s hand onto Arthur’s waist, “I’m sure that you both understand how this works.”
Naturally Alfred and Arthur fell into the standard waltz position, staring at each other, both unable to hide their excitement over some long awaited intimacy.
“Hello~” Arthur chuckled, pressing his chest against Alfred’s and standing on the balls of his feet, trying to make up for the height difference between them. But before Arthur could position himself, the Tutor slid a thick hardcover book between their chests, and explained that this is the distance expected from them.
“Think of this as a game,” the Tutor chuckled, “don’t let the book drop.”
“Do you have a thinner book?” Alfred asked, raising his eyebrows cheekily, making Arthur gasp with laughter.
However the Tutor was not impressed, “very smart, Prince Alfred. Now, this is going to be a simple waltz.”
Alfred took a deep breath as he looked down at Arthur, remembering that it was odd for a King and Queen to be attracted to each other, and how determined Alfred had become to challenge this.
Alfred’s heart fluttered as he and Arthur stepped to the guidance of the violin, gliding across the dark wooden flooring of the dance hall, watching the world of detailed paintings and gas lights circle around them.
Within moments it felt as though the Tutor was no longer there, Alfred and Arthur only focussed on each other, blocking out the world around them: the world that wanted to dictate their relationship.
“Feet! FEET!!” the Tutor snapped as Arthur took one bold step forward without instruction, intrigue and determination filling his eyes as he looked his leg around Alfred’s forcing the taller Prince to the ground, where Arthur fell on top of him, pretending to shriek in surprise. As soon as Alfred saw the smile on Arthur’s face, he knew what Arthur’s plans were. Alfred smiled and wrapped his arms around Arthur, keeping him in place, taking in his warmth and breathing his delicious rose-like scent.
“I want to speak to you more,” Alfred admitted.
After a moment of silence as the violin playing halted and the tutor ran to them, Arthur whispered, “meet me in the library an hour after curfew. I want to speak to you too.”
“I will,” Alfred promised, as the Tutor pushed Alfred’s arms apart and pulled Arthur off of Alfred by his shirt, snapping at the monarchs.
Alfred and Arthur could not care less about what the Tutor had to say to them, they had finally arranged to meet, and nothing could wipe the smiles off of their faces as the rest of their dance lesson continued without incident.
As Alfred expected, as soon as the lesson was over, they were escorted in different directions: not left any time to speak to each other. However, this time Alfred knew that he was not going to be disappointed for long. For tonight he will finally have the opportunity to speak to Arthur without the supervision of the Tutor or their courtiers.
Hours later Alfred crawled through his chambers, using the moonlight as his guide. Trying to be as quiet as a mouse, the young prince pressed his ear against the door to his chambers, waiting to listen for the guards to finish their patrol. As the guards footsteps became harder to hear, Alfred slowly opened the door to his chambers, poking his head through the gap to look around, before sliding the rest of his body through.
The castle looked dramatically different at night; the darkness of the halls was interrupted by small gas lamps that littered the hallway, illuminating the paintings that hung beneath them.
Alfred slid through the small gap in the door and slowly closed the door behind them, being sure to check if his long dark blue cloak wasn’t caught in the door before he sprinted down the hallway, his bare feet making little noise on the red rug that blanketed the dark polished wood. He ran as fast and as quietly as he could, careful to keep his eyes and ear open for any guards.
Alfred quickly ran to the side and pressed his back against the wall when he heard approaching voices coming from the other side of the hallway intersection, freezing with fear when he saw approaching candle light coming from the direction that he planned to go.
“It’s not looking good, there was another riot; this time in the Capital.”
“What was it over this time?” Another voice asked, Alfred’s eyes widened when the recognised the deep and manly voice of the current King of Spades.
“Food.”
“Well, surely it was just a spat, angry people will do angry thi—“
“They hung the baker: the mob was convinced that he was hoarding grain and bread. This is the third mob-hanging this month. It is getting worse; it won’t be long until they are pounding down the palace doors.”
Upon hearing the advisors confession, Alfred placed his hand over his mouth as he watched the candle light getting closer, and he prayed that they were not going to turn into the corner and see him.
“The Jack is barely coping anymore. She is worrying me. She wants to retire soon, I doubt she will be able to handle this job for much longer. She has not slept in weeks and does not eat. How is Sir Yao’s training, how soon will he be ready to take over?”
“As soon as possible. Others have told me that Yao is exceptional,” The advisor replied.
“And Prince Alfred and Prince Arthur?”
“Soon. Hopefully they are crowned before the situation becomes… really… really… bad…”
Alfred breathed a silent sigh of relief when the King and his advisor continued to walk down the hallway, not looking to the side to see Alfred standing in the darkness.
What Alfred heard disturbed him; however he could not dwindle on it for long: Arthur was waiting for him. When it was safe to move, Alfred jumped out from his safe-spot against the wall and turned the corner and continued to sprint down the hallway.
Alfred could only sigh with relief when he pulled open the heavy wooden doors to the royal library, and slid himself in between the gap. He found himself consumed by the darkness of the library as the gas lights had been turned off, and the only light that came from the moonlight that shined through the windows.
Alfred slowly walked past the dark wooden desks, making his way towards the bookshelves, hearing his feet pat on the cold wooden flooring. The bookshelves towered over Alfred, almost as tall as the balconies above, which only provided more bookshelves and private reading places. Alfred was honestly surprised that the library wasn’t being offered to universities in the Spades capital … perhaps that’s something else Alfred could change when he is crowned King.
“Alfred!” A hushed voice called, Alfred turned around, looking for any sign of Arthur; his heart beating out of his chest, but he couldn’t see him, “up here!”
Alfred looked up to see the glowing light of a candle on the balcony, which was being held by Arthur, who looked down at Alfred with a wide smile on his face. Without hesitation, Alfred ran up the staircase that led to the balcony, delighted to see that Arthur was running to meet him. Excitement overflowed his heart when Arthur placed the candle on a table before running into Alfred’s arms, holding him tightly.
“I’ve waited for so long…” Arthur whispered into Alfred’s shoulder as Alfred’s hands explored every bit of Arthur’s back.
“I’m sorry, I tried to come as fast as I could—“
“Not that. For this: to see you!” Arthur pointed out, as they parted slightly to look at each other, with Arthur’s arms still linked around Alfred, keeping him close, “I hate this: they escort us away before we can talk: damned tradition!!”
“Oh, Arthur…” Alfred sighed, placing his hand on Arthur’s cheek, feeling the heat underneath Arthur’s skin gravitate towards his hand, even under the dim moonlight and the light of the candle, the stunning green I Arthur’s eyes was captivating Alfred. “It’s been so hard for me to not chase after you… It is so irritating that we can’t speak during lessons, and cannot speak after, it is torture! How are we supposed to work together if we cannot learn about each other? Ever since I saw you, I—“
“I felt it too,” Arthur admitted, his eyes narrowing dreamily as he tilted his head into Alfred’s hand, embracing his touch. “I just… can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, I never thought I could.”
“Me neither,” Alfred replied, his eyes widening as his heart begged for more, to satisfy his need for love and affection from Arthur. However it was Arthur who gave in first, standing on the balls of his feet, placing his hand on the back of Alfred’s neck, pulling him down until their lips met.
It was as though a fire was ignited within Alfred, he lost control and hungrily kissed back, running his hands down Arthur’s back, holding him closely as he tilted his head to allow Arthur to kiss deeper. To Alfred, Arthur tasted like sugar; addictive and delicious: it awakened Alfred’s senses and sent his heartbeat to beat so hard, it felt as though it was going to burst out of his chest.
They kissed to defy every rule that kept them apart.
However, they had to part momentarily to breathe, “Do Kings and Queens do this?” Alfred asked, as they waddled together, stopping as Arthur lifted himself onto a study desk.
“No, not ever,” Arthur whispered, his hands trailing down Alfred’s face before pulling him back in again for a kiss. Alfred resumed to kiss Arthur hungrily and passionately, determined to make up for all of the time that they had missed.
Momentarily they broke their kiss, rubbing their noses together, consuming each other’s breath, revelling in the fact that they are going to be a King and Queen unlike any other…