Our Royal Duties

Chapter 5

Snow piled on the window sill of Arthur and Francis's bedroom, reflecting the morning sunlight like mirrors. A soft but chilling breeze blew into the room, floating across the face of the latter of the two blondes and waking him up. Francis sat up slowly, propping himself up on one elbow. Things had changed in the past months. It had really become much harder to track time for him, but the seasons told him everything. He and Arthur had been married not long after his birthday, and seeing as it was now barely a week until Christmas and they were actively packing for a holiday trip he knew that it had to have been about five months, and it showed in Arthur clearly. There was no longer doubt in Francis's mind about Arthur's being with child, as the small bump was beginning to show. They had fixed quite a few of his dresses to fit his new size, and while they were now not quite as flattering they were better for him than other dresses were. His eyes fell to his side, the golden bob of his lover's unruly hair sticking up from under the covers. His expression softened. He worried for Arthur constantly; that he'd get sick or hurt, or be stolen away from him again, or that he'd be killed from childbirth. The latter was so far off he tried not to think of it, but he heard so many stories... Francis shook his head, frowning a little. He settled next to Arthur close enough so that his hair hung over the other's face, managing to put on a little grin.

"Good morning mon amour, it's snowing out." He whispered, his lips pressed against the side of Arthur's face in not-quite-a-kiss. "The snow is nearly as beautiful as you are... tell me, how are you this morning?" The lump under the covers shifted slightly, but Arthur didn't roll over. His head turned to meet Francis's lips.

"Tired... and I can't roll over with this weight in my belly." He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and heaved himself onto his back. "I've been worrying about our holiday... suppose my family doesn't like you..." If Arthur had been smiling, he wasn't anymore. Worries surfaced in his mind like a body to the top of a swamp, unwanted and so old than frankly they were beginning to annoy him. "I mean, I know they don't like you already, b-but this is our opportunity to prove yourself to them, a-and they'll think it's your fault that I'm in this condition... oh, a-and whatever will Alfred say... I know it's likely he may not even by interested in me anymore, but I'd hate to ruin my friendship with him over something like this..." his voice shook, but he wasn't quite in tears yet. He didn't have the strength to cry. Besides, the thought of losing Alfred came to him so often that it almost didn't bother him... almost. He found that he was quite often tired or moody like this, brooding on things that didn't matter, and trying to distract himself by exploring or deciphering his book. The garden was also a sort of safe haven away from the noise and bustle of the castle during the day, but at night- or rather as soon as the sun started to touch the horizon- the guards started to block it off. He did run into the noblemen on occasion, but now they usually hurried past him, seeming to accept the fact that he was Francis's. That or they just didn't like him in his... current condition. He usually got a chuckle out of watching them, but it was a thin silver lining around a dark cloud that seemed insistent on zapping him in the bum every few minutes to remind him why they scurried away- that is to say, he felt awful most of the time. Francis had begun taking up odd jobs in some of the smaller villages to occupy his time, and while Arthur couldn't be happier he was doing so it always felt like he was trying to avoid him. Francis would almost always leave before Arthur woke up, and wouldn't return until he was finishing up his dessert or settling into bed. They rarely spoke like they did now, and when they did it was often Francis telling him of how the children in the villages were doing. In all honesty, Arthur felt like he was spending more time with those children than he was with his own. He shifted a bit so that he faced Francis, dark circles around his eyes from another night's light sleep.

Francis sighed, wrapping his arms around Arthur and letting one hand rest over his belly bump. "Non, non, we're going to be fine. I know Allistor and Alfred want me dead because of our relationship, but if worst come to worse and we have to explain this child, then I'll be prepared. I'll do anything to stay with you. We'll be together like always."