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nish-s-random-writing · 6 years

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Growing Up

USUK! Cardverse Fic (1/?)

Summary: Alfred met Arthur in the orphanage. He was determined to make this new, older, grumpy kid his new friend, no matter how much he’s being pushed away. But somehwere, miles away, the king and queen have just been killed and the kingdom needs replacements.

ff.net link || Chapter 2>>

There was always a king, a queen, and a jack. A chain of three that bound the kingdom together.

In the Kingdom of Spades whose emblem glowed blue, in its castle with a million rooms, in its limestone towers and gold-lined walls, in its vast ballroom with crystal chandeliers, in its exquisite throne room which radiated wealth, in the chambers of the king and queen, in the royal blue silks of their bed, lay the bodies of the two, who now lay at rest.

Two old men, bound by the Spadian symbols blooming from entwined palms, were now watched over by the young jack as their bodies lay unmoving.

Yao, but a nineteen-year-old boy from the east, having served under the two old monarchs for scarcely three years, now felt overwhelmingly vulnerable. For so long, he’d looked too them for guidance and strength; they were his anchor. He’d felt so small under their gaze—gazes that were so proud and ever comforting. Now, they were gone, and a new king and queen would take their place.

Would they be kind? Wise and old? Would they be young, and innocent, to be brought up in spoiled wealth and empty palace halls?

Whoever they might be, Yao would watch over them. He would fulfill his duty as jack. He would not let something akin to this happen ever again.

“Clean the blood,” he said to the maids. “Take the arrows from their chests,” he said to the servants. “Open the gallows,” Then, with narrowed eyes said to the guards, “And execute the murderers.”

Ooo000oooO

When Alfred heard that a new kid would be moving into their orphanage, he expected somebody exactly like him and his friends. Well, they weren’t all alike. They were unique snowflakes, all of them, like Miss Amelia always said. But they were all around the age of six or seven, some shyer than others, some a bit louder. They were all friends and they all played together. They loved candy and running and joining Miss Amelia’s sing-a-longs on Thursday nights.

But the new kid, Arthur, he was… well, he was a stick in the mud.

Now, Alfred knew that sounded mean, and he would never say that out loud, but truly the new kid was exactly that.

Alfred was the first to see him. He’d gotten a good amount of candy from his seventh birthday just a day before so he saved a bar of chocolate as a gift for the new kid.

He crept down the stairs on the morning of July 6th, and peaked out the corner into the homely lobby.

Miss Amelia was conversing quite bubbly with a woman who was a bit shorter, whose hair reached her knees and eyes covered with glasses. By her legs stood a tall boy, perhaps nine years old, looking tired and grumpy and had the largest eyebrows Alfred had ever seen.

His hair was blond, like his own hair but lighter, and his eyes were green like the forest in the spring. Like gems gleaming quietly in the firelight.

Alfred decided he liked his eyes, and resolved to tell him so.

So when Miss Amelia waved goodbye to the other woman and led her to the door, Alfred bounded from his spot and met with the new kid, who now stood alone in the middle of the lobby.

He looked surprised at first, then questioning at the chocolate bar waved in his face. Then he scowled at Alfred. “What do you want?”

“Hi! My name’s Alfred. I heard you’re the new kid, right? Anyway, it was my birthday two days ago and I got a bunch of candy so-“

“I don’t care about your birthday. What do you want?”

“Oh,” Alfred blinked, taken aback. “I uh, well, I wanted to give you this chocolate bar!”

Arthur regarded him cautiously, a scowl still plastered on his face. Alfred shifted, but he would not be deterred. Maybe the new kid was just grumpy, is all.

“I don’t want your chocolate,” he finally said.

Alfred’s tiny heart must’ve broken. He was only trying to be nice! Why was this kid mean to him?

Miss Amelia came back, then said something about it being nice meeting Arthur.

Arthur? That must be the new kid’s name.

She took the older boy by the hand and led him around the corner, but not before telling Alfred to go upstairs and sleep for it wasn’t even breakfast time.

Alfred felt upset. But then, maybe it wasn’t the new kid’s- Arthur’s fault. Yeah, he must be upset too. Alfred would just have to make him happy. Miss Amelia said he was a hero; he could make anyone happy! And that was just what he was going to do.

Ooo000ooO

“Arthur! Arthur!” Alfred cried, speeding between crowded breakfast tables and sprinting past children to reach the kid with huge eyebrows who sat sulkily under an apple tree, all alone.

“Arthur!” Said Alfred, out of breath, holding up a chocolate bar in triumph. The new kid scowled up at him, but did not move.

“You again? I said I didn’t want your chocolate!”

“But why? Don’t you like chocolate? I saved it especially for you, and I was hoping we could be friends, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. And kids like you will never be my friend. Now sod off and leave me alone!”

When Arthur yelled, Alfred jumped back. Just a bit. He wasn’t afraid.

Arthur was practically growling now, but Alfred did not want to give up. The new kid was definitely not shy, so maybe he was just nervous? Sometimes kids get angry when they’re nervous. It happened a lot of the time, when aspiring parents came around looking for children to adopt.

Or maybe Arthur was just upset that he was now an orphan. Maybe his parents died or something. Alfred would be gentler this time, a bit more soft-spoken though he knew that wasn’t like him at all.

“Hey,” Said Alfred with a gentle smile. “I know this place might be weird and new to you, but it would be really good if you made some friends. We’re all really nice here and we get along together, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who wants to be friends with you. I promise, I’ll be really nice to you, Arthur! So what do you say?”

Alfred held out the chocolate bar again, hoping against all hope. “This chocolate bar’s the really good kind! You don’t have to take it, though. Just say so.” He smiled, but Arthur didn’t.

“I told you to sod off, brat!” Arthur huffed. He stood, taller than Alfred, and sneered down at him. “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to know you. But I know your kind and I’m not trusting you one bit. Now leave me alone!”

He stomped off, back into the mess hall, leaving Alfred close to tears with a lonely chocolate bar. Why was Arthur so mean?

Alfred didn’t believe that bullies existed, even though he’s heard of them. Maybe Arthur was a ’bully’ but just needed some love. That must be it. That had to be it. Alfred wouldn’t give up until he made a friend of Arthur. He would be sure of that!

Ooo000oooO

“Alright class! Open your workbooks to page fifteen and answer the questions!” Miss Amelia’s voice was a happy chirp. She bounced over the heads of cross-legged children sitting in the grassy garden, excitedly flipping through their books ready to answer questions about The Princess and the Pea, a legend old as time from the kingdom of Clubs.

“Psst, hey, Arthur,” Alfred called to the tall boy who sat close to him. Well, he sat close to Arthur in the first place, even though he was at the very back of the crowd and Alfred usually liked to sit at the very front.

“Arthur, Arthur!”

“What?” The other hissed. He had his pencil in an iron grip.

Alfred offered an apologetic smile. “Hey, do you know what, um, eks—excuse- no. Um, this word, ex-”

“Exquisite.” Arthur grumbled.

“Wow, you can pronounce that? What does it mean?”

“It means really fancy or really nice or something like that. Now, go back to your work or I’ll tell Miss Amelia.”

“Miss Amelia’s nice,” Alfred said with a thoughtful smile. Arthur didn’t yell at him this time! “Do you like her?” he asked.

“She’s too nice. But everyone likes her, I suppose.” Sighed the elder boy.

Alfred blinked, once again bewildered. “Suppose? What does that mean? Gee, Arthur you sure do know a lot of words! You’re really smart, you know.”

It may or may not have been a blush, but Arthur’s cheeks seemed to redden just a tad. His scowl, however, deepened somehow, yet his words did not match his expression. “T-thank you. It’s just a basic word! Nothing to fret over. And uh, that means ‘I guess’.” The words were strings tumbling out of his mouth. Flustered and timid, he went back to his workbook.

Hmm, maybe Alfred had somehow broken through this time. He smiled. It would only be a matter of time before he could truly call himself Arthur’s friend. “Hey, Arthur? What does, um, this mean? A-ack, a-quick, uh- aching-”

“Acquire!”

Ooo000oooO

“Wooh, thanks, Art! I would’ve totally failed that thing if it weren’t for you!”

“Shut up, Alfred. And why are you still following me?”

Alfred looked around and noticed that they were out of the orphan mob having lunch in the mess hall. They were outside, watching from a distance; Arthur with his tray of food making for the lone apple tree in the garden.

“Hey! Don’t you want to eat with the others?”

“I don’t like crowds.” Arthur answered simply. “Please, just go back to your friends.”

“Eh, they’ll be fine!” The younger boy waved his hand dismissively. “I want to hang out with you.”

Arthur looked a little less than pleased at his answer, but this time, he didn’t tell him to ‘sod off’.

Progress.

He took his seat under the shade, back to the trunk, and Alfred sat across from him. The breeze was cool and the grass was dry and the roses by the door smelled a million times closer. Alfred hummed pleasantly and began to bite into some bread.

“Yuck.”

“Wha?” Alfred’s head sprang up, filled with food and confusion.

“One bite and you’ve gotten sauce all over yourself! Dear Spades, don’t you have any manners?”

“Manners?” Alfred swallowed with a loud gulp.

Arthur’s frown twisted into an expression of disgust. “Ugh. Wipe that off! You look like a clown drowned in ketchup,” He stated, but the corners of his lips were tilting up, and Alfred knew that despite his reprimanding, he was getting enjoyment out of this.

“Heh, am I a funny clown?” Alfred pushed. “‘Cause then I can make you laugh!”

He smiled, then giggled, then laughed openly, and not a second later Arthur shook his head with what might’ve been a tiny, tiny smile gracing his lips.

“You’re a buffoon, Alfred.” Was all Arthur said before throwing a napkin at his face, the younger boy still laughing with gleeful abandon.

Ooo000oooO

Given three days with a sulky, older kid, Alfred liked to think that he’d begun to warm up to Arthur. He liked his accent, and he’d told him so. Arthur blushed and called him a ‘git’ but refused to explain what that word meant.

He didn’t push Alfred away when they went to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner under the apple tree together and he didn’t scowl at his incessant ramblings. He may have cracked a smile or two, and maybe even thanked him for getting him food.

But what left Alfred confused was how he seemed to enjoy belittling him an awful lot.

He called him a pathetic kid. He called him small, innocent, impatient, and irresponsible every chance he got. Alfred was the gullible kid; childish, and ‘utterly helpless’ on his own, whatever that meant.

But Alfred didn’t see what was wrong with that—he was a kid, after all. Kids were a lot of those things, and he thought, so should Arthur, but then Alfred found that Arthur was different like that. Maybe it was because he was older. Still, he was only nine years old! Then again, Alfred had never really spent any time with a nine year old, as most orphans had already left the orphanage by the time they turned eight years old.

Maybe that’s why Arthur was so stuffy. Maybe he just wanted to be adopted, like the rest of them. Maybe, but Alfred wouldn’t bring it up for now; it was still too risky, and he had yet to gain Arthur’s complete trust.

He would prove that he could be an awesome friend! Really, he would.

Again, after Miss Amelia’s lessons, they made their way through the noisy mess hall. Children laughed and snorted, and threw food all over their tables. Miss Amelia however sat listening to the radio with her small plate of food by the door.

Alfred strained his ears to hear. Sometimes, they’d have action-plays, or even some music! He enjoyed the radio during those times. Unfortunately he found today to be just another silly news broadcast. How boring.

“-ing and Queen of Spades, King Kurt and Queen Ram have…. in their bed…. died hand in han…. Jack Yao of Spa-…”

“Stupid static!” Said Miss Amelia, wrestling with the spindly wires on the metal box.

Alfred left her to follow Arthur.

“Hey, Arthur,” Alfred said, plopping down in front of him as they sat under the apple tree. “Who was that lady that brought you here? Was she someone you knew?”

Arthur hummed in thought, picking at the grass by his foot. He wasn’t a particularly cheery kid, either. “Her name was Miss Alice. She ran the orphanage I used to stay at.” He mumbled, voice low.

“You were from another orphanage?” Alfred’s eyes bugged out wide. “What happened?”

“Well…” Arthur hummed again, deep in thought. He was tossing the idea about in his head—Alfred could see it, in the jittering manner of his hands, his half-lidded eyes, his lips pulling into a thin line. Finally, the boy sighed, and his eyes darted back to meet Alfred’s.

“The place was going bankrupt,” Arthur stated. “As I heard, Miss Alice couldn’t keep all the kids, so she started looking for places to send them to. I was one of the last to go, and Miss Amelia said she could only take one kid because of how many you already have. I suppose Miss Alice was getting quite desperate, you know, to get all the children out before they begin to starve.”

“Oh, well that sucks,” Alfred remarked with a pout. Arthur let slip a small smirk and then Alfred was smiling too.

“Believe me,” said the elder. “This place is way better than that old misery shack.”

“Oh, is it because of me?” Alfred grinned with a wiggle-waggle of his eyebrows.

“Well,” Arthur tilted his head. “It certainly has something to do with the company.”

Alfred counted this as a victory. If Arthur didn’t yell, and he smiled quite bit, then it counted for something, right?

And then Alfred talked, well into the hour. Arthur would sometimes nod, sometimes stare into the grass like it held the most interesting little questions when in fact, Alfred had the questions. He asked and asked, and Arthur’s answers were scarce. But Alfred loved them. He loved his voice.

He didn’t mind the occasional snide remark, nor the commentary on his apparent ‘stupidity.’ When Arthur smiled, smirked or hummed, when he let out a single chuckle or looked at Alfred with a hint of amusement, he found Arthur to be very much worth it.

“Hey, come on,” Alfred finally said. “Miss Amelia will be roundin’ us up soon, you know. Let’s go.”

Then he stood, and held out his hand. Arthur stared.

It was at that moment Alfred realized he’d never actually touched Arthur before. Not even a single elbow rub. Now, he was offering his hand for Arthur to clutch. Would he even take it? He still seemed to dislike Alfred. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he’d gone too far. Maybe Arthur wouldn’t want to be friends for his sudden forwardness.

“Oh, alright you impatient twat,” Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

Alfred might have smiled so wide that it hurt.

And then Arthur took his palm, fingers sliding over Alfred’s in a firm hold, then hauled himself up effortlessly despite the boy’s small stature.

“Well, then.” Arthur blinked. “You’re quite a strong lad for your- ah, ow!”

It was like a bat hitting Alfred’s palm with a firm slap, painful and sudden, and the two boys jolted back. Then a pinprick of needles began to work its way down Alfred’s arm, coating his fingers, his wrist, down to the crook of his elbow. He realized with some horror that the same thing was happening to Arthur.

Blue—blue vines so vibrant they seemed to glow on his skin. Spiky leaves and tiny roses bloomed over Alfred’s forearms, like a living tattoo swirling this way and that, all connected to a single blocked symbol right in the center of his palm—the Spade of his kingdom.

“Alfred! Arthur!” That was Miss Amelia; she was running to them, staring at their arms. She looked torn between whether she was to scream or cry; and then she sobbed, hands over her mouth. “You two… the king and queen.”

(a/n): BOOM 3,000 words of pure 3 am fire, baby! I already have chapter 2 in the works and boy oh boy is this gonna be a wild ride. I actually have an inkling of where this is going and a plot in my head--it’s a right miracle, my babies! I’m h y p e d for this!!!

#usuk #fanfiction #cardverse #aph england #aph ameirca #aph china #fanfic #nish #my writing #ukus #usukus

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