Love Through the Ages

Fallen Kingdom Part 1

Cardverse AU, angst, ukus

Does anyone know what it's like to watch the kingdom, you so coveted, burn....burn away?

To watch all your precious memories, your friends, your family, your history disappear into a pile of ash. To be carried off by the wind. You forever left mourning?

A heart pulled in so many directions, should you cry, should you rage, should you hide? A need to save your subjects, the countless books full of unknown knowledge, the love of your life, your Queen.

To fear that your heart was simply going to crack from all the emotions.

And then it suddenly does. A heart that was so....FULL of life, love, whatever, was now dead and dully beating in your breast. A reminder that despite all that you wish, you are still here.

What was once so beautiful, bright, ALIVE, is now dull, dead, a shadow of its former self.

Bright lapis pants now ragged and gray, silver gleaning buttons long since lost. A regal, elegant coat now a dirty, disgusting brown. A pure white silk shirt being turned in for a scratchy, cotton shirt.

Once, long ago, Alfred had been bright, he had been the center of attention, the sun in the sky.

............That time had long since passed. Now he was a forgotten nobody, who stood in the shadows, staring at what he had once had.

Alfred.....was pitiful, here he was on a forgotten balcony staring at the Royals' Ball.

Muslin and silk twirling around, until you couldn't distinguish the colors. Jewels of all kinds glittering in candlelight. Hearty aromas of meat of cheese of wine dissipating throughout the air, calling all those hungry to come and get them.

Alfred should've been there, he should be there dancing with all the women, vaguely threatening Ivan, standing by his Queen. But here he was, alone with his thoughts and the dust.

It was weird for Alfred to feel bitterness in the soul. He had thought he was always a cheerful, always a bright, always a nice person, but like so many things that had eroded.

Once the night air might have bothered him, cold air nipping at his exposed ankles, but now, he just felt.......

Cold

Cold like his treasure, his life, his pocket watch was. No more ticking, just sitting. It's cold metal like needles against his heart. His reign had ended, why couldn't his life too?

And there oblivious to his broken heart, his crunched soul, his failed dreams, was Arthur James Kirkland. A rose among beasts.

His Queen had long since died in the fires that ravaged his land and left in his place a stubborn, old prick, Lord Kirkland.

You know? If Alfred looked at an angle he could kinda see the beauty that everyone claimed that Lord Kirkland was.

Bright green emerald eyes. A shy smile. Blush stained cheeks. Pale skin reminding you of winter. A true Tudor Rose.

A true "Tudor" Rose

A true Tudor "Rose"

A dainty finger touched King Francis's arm. A demure smile was hidden by a golden fan. Red lips quirked into a smile. A blush staining the pure white enamel.

Alfred felt sick. With Lord Kirkland's painted face and bright red lipstick, he looked like a clown.

Lord Kirkland fluttered his fan and gave King Francis a sultry smile. Promising things that could only be found in the bedroom.

Alfred wondered if his Queen even loved him. Was he just a step stool? A way for his Queen to get more power? Were all their proclamations under the starry sky a lie?

Alfred had always loved his Queen, it was expected of him after all, so why couldn't Arth-his Queen?

It had been a simpler time when Alfred and his Queen had been in love. They used to chase each other through royal purple and lapis Spadian Halls. Their hands used to seek each other out. How they used to share sweet kisses under the moonlight. How when they were making love, his Queen would always call Alfred the most beautiful. How his Queen used to fill him with such warmth. How Alfred often wondered if he were a women, could he mother a child, with his dear, sweet love?

..........But that was all gone. His Queen had died.

It was important that Alfred move away from this topic, it had already passed, what good could bringing up the past have?

Alfred wiped a tear away from his cheek.