And on the Fourth of July, two beautiful, blond-haired baby boys were born. They were identical twins, except for a few minor details. The blue eyes of the elder, the purple of the younger, and a lick of hair that never seemed to stay in place for either.

The younger was loved and cherished when he was brought into this world. But the only one their father had eyes for was the elder. He was the one who would become king. He was the heir to the throne.

The younger would be a prince, yes, but never more. There would be chances that the younger might need to replace the elder, but through the years, it never happened. So the younger was pushed to the side, ignored. His mother loved him and so did his brother and his father agreed with them, but when push came to pull, it was clear who was valued more.

The elder loved his younger brother dearly, though they argued quite a bit. After their mother's passing, the elder was the only one left for the younger. And so the younger grew to love him too, with all his heart. They were each other's best friends throughout their childhood and they depended on each other's company more than they could ever put into words.

Then came their eighteenth birthday. The day the elder was named Crown Prince for good (not that anyone had doubted it on the way). It was both of their birthdays. But only one mattered.

To the world, that is.

Because on that day, the younger took a vow as well. A vow that would bind him for the rest of his life. A vow that would come to define him.

A vow that would come to pass all too soon.

Twenty.

Matthew Williams was twenty years old.

Most twenty year olds in this land were working in the fields or apprenticed. Matthew was apprenticed too, in an odd way.

At the age of eighteen, like most eighteen year olds, Matthew had taken up his apprenticeship. Except his was in the form of a vow. Matthew was apprenticed, not to a blacksmith or a man of trade. No, Matthew was apprenticed to the country.

Or more specifically rather, Matthew was apprenticed to his brother. He was sworn to protect his brother, no matter what the cost.

And today, that included his life.

His brother was Alfred Fitzgerald Jones, Crown Prince. They were twins. Alfred had been born mere seconds before Matthew, yet those seconds were what mattered. It was not, after all, the years in life that mattered. No, it was the seconds. The instant before someone slashed your throat. The moment before you were born.

These were what mattered and Matthew Williams knew them well.

"Williams!" a voice whispered. Matthew looked up at his partner. "He's coming!"

Matthew nodded, leaning against the wall in the shadows. His gun was in his hands, already ready to aim and fire. There was a knife tucked in his belt as a backup plan, should the gun fail. He would rather not use it. Matthew would much rather use hand-to-hand combat than the knife. The gun, at least, you had some distance between you and your victim. With the knife, it was impossible to use without getting your hands dirty.

Besides, the goal here wasn't to kill the intruder. At least not immediately.

Footsteps approached their hiding spot. As soon as the man came into view, Matthew dodged behind him swiftly, absolutely silent. He spotted the man's gun immediately. Grabbing the man's wrist, Matthew twisted it behind him. The man cried out sharply in pain, dropping his weapon. With Matthew's other hand, he pointed the gun at the intruder's forehead.

"You're caught," Matthew said quietly. "The game's over. Now are you going to come with me peacefully or are you going to make this difficult?"

"Another job well done, Williams." The commander handed Matthew a beer, which he took with a smile. When Matthew had first joined the Castle Guard, he'd never tasted beer before. In the palace, it was regarded as a commoner's drink. The royal family drank wine. Upon entering the Castle Guard though, Matthew had basically given up his royal title and his reservations. Now beer was one of his favorite beverages.

Entering the Castle Guard was also why he was now Matthew Williams and not Matthew Jones. It wasn't required for a man entering the Guard to change his name, but Matthew had been a special case. The other members of the Guard would have looked at him differently, knowing that he was a prince. When you entered the Guard, regardless of what you'd done, you started at the bottom and worked your way to the top. This ended up being even more important with Matthew's specialized branch of work. So Matthew had changed his name to his mother's maiden name, Williams. It suited him better anyways. The Jones family had always been simple. His father, his mother, his brother.

"Take the night off." Matthew nodded before heading over to the bar where his other friends were seated.

"Look who it is, man of the hour!" There were hoots and half a dozen people slapped him on the back. Matthew grinned, raising up his beer in toast.

At the castle, Matthew might be a little known entity, but here? Here Matthew was actually recognized. It was one of the greatest things that had happened to him since he'd joined, no, one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him.

Here, Matthew had friends. Almost everyone liked him. He was polite and kind to everyone, but not unwilling to prove that he belonged if the situation presented himself. Certainly, the first few times when the other guys had poked fun at him, calling him feminine, he'd put them in their place. Matthew hadn't been trained in the castle his whole life for nothing after all. Now, they respected him. Matthew had found his place.

Matthew began chugging down his beer. The other guys prodded each other and Matthew definitely saw money change hands as one of his friends timed him. It had become a ritual, after each success, to see how quickly Matthew could gulp beer down.

The last drops of the amber liquid were sliding down Matthew's throat as he slammed the glass down on the table. To his surprise, nobody made a sound. Usually after Matthew was done chugging, someone would call time and there'd be groaning and cheering from different parties. This time though, there was just silence.

There was a light cough and Matthew turned to look at the well-dressed man who stood in front of him, looking thoroughly displeased. Dressed in blue with a white cross across his uniform and a red collar, it was clear that this man was from the castle. Most likely a messenger. The man's eyes were wrinkled in disgust. He was probably thinking of how despicable it was to find himself in such a filthy pub. It was interesting how different the man treated him and his brother, though they looked almost identical. In a way though, Matthew liked that. He could be his own person now.

"Mr. Williams," the man said in a crisp voice, "the prince seeks an audience with you now."

Matthew understood immediately. "Gotta go guys. Duty calls." He winked and gave his buddies a friendly salute before turning and following the messenger out.

He might love the Castle Guard, but for Matthew, the only person that mattered more was his brother.

"Mattie! I'm so glad to see ya!"

As soon as Matthew entered the castle, he was tackled by his twin brother. Matthew nearly fell over from Alfred's weight and laughed as he righted himself.

Alfred was so different when he was around Matthew. Having been trained since he was a kid, Alfred knew exactly how to behave in public. He knew what airs to put on, what to say, how to charm the ladies, how to deal with the matters of the kingdom. With Matthew though, all of that was stripped away. This was what Matthew loved most about his brother. How, in the end, Alfred was just a guy with a good heart. He really wasn't all that different from the people that Matthew sat next to in the pub.

When they were younger, Alfred's imagination, naivety, and go-lucky attitude had landed him in a lot of trouble. It had been Matthew who knew how to act. Once, Alfred had told him that he should've been born first. But Matthew dismissed this easily. Alfred had always been the more confident one, the one who could motivate people to do what he wanted them to. Matthew had learned this slowly, but he was always a little more hesitant, a little shyer. That had faded in his two years in the Castle Guard, but it was still there.

"God, I've missed you so much!" Alfred pulled Matthew into one of his notorious bear hugs. Matthew seriously felt suffocated. "You won't believe how dull the castle is without you...we never see each other anymore." There was an unusual hint of sadness in his twin's voice, but Alfred moved on easily. "Besides, you've got to get me out of here and take me to see all your friends. They sound so great." Alfred's voice dripped with jealousy. In the castle, Alfred had never been able to make true "friends." Their father had taught Alfred from a young age that anyone who ever cared about him outside their family (and sometimes inside their family) just wanted to use his position. It was a bit lonely, Matthew admitted. At least Matthew had managed to get out and make friends.

"Also, you still haven't snuck me in any beer yet!" Alfred whacked Matthew's head on the side playfully. "God, were you drinking just before I asked whats-his-face to call you in?" Alfred leaned in closely, sniffing. "God, Mattie! You could've just snagged some for me then!"

Matthew took his chance to actually speak before Alfred started rambling again. "It's great to see you too, Al," he said warmly. "And I'm sorry, I didn't really get a chance... Besides," Matthew said in response to his earlier statemet, "I was in the castle earlier for my job, remember?"

"Nah, that's okay," Alfred said breezily. "Mattie, that's your job." Alfred shook his head. "That's completely different from seeing you. I haven't seen you in ages! Let's go talk. Where to?"

Matthew grinned. "You know where."

Alfred matched Matthew's grin with one of his own. Even though they were both grown men, it was shocking how easily and quickly they fell into step with one another just like they had when they were boys. The two dashed out of the stuffy castle halls and into the backyard where...

...Ah. Just like Matthew remembered it.

Years ago, when they were just children, their father had constructed a treehouse for their birthday. It was on one of the tallest trees in the castle, built sturdily and expertly by their father. That had been when they were very young, before Alfred's life had been quite as swept up with studies and Matthew pushed to the side. That was when their father was still consumed by fatherly love, still willing to build with his own hands. The treehouse had always remained their favorite place, where Matthew and Alfred would always escape to. They'd pull up the rope ladder while their governness yelled at the two of them to get down from the tree, Alfred leading the escapade of course. They would hide up there for a whole afternoon sometimes, just laughing and talking and planning food raids together. It had been their little piece of paradise.

The tree still towered above them, the treehouse just barely visible in the light of the moon. The ladder was out of sight, but Alfred tugged a rope and it came down, smacking against the ground. Alfred grabbed onto it and started climbing at an alarming rate. Matthew followed his brother easily.

When they reached the top, Alfred took out a few candles and after lighting them, he put them in a small dish of water. They'd almost burnt down the treehouse one summer...that'd been a terrible day. Father had threatened to have the tree cut down but Matthew had somehow convinced him that they would always be careful with the candles from then on. Alfred had promised to do so as well and they'd never had an accident since.

"So," Matthew said once Alfred had put his matches away, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Hmm?" Alfred said, distracted. "Oh!" Alfred smiled and leaned against the walls of the treehouse. "Ah...there wasn't anything special. How are you, Mattie?"

Matthew squinted in the dim light at his brother. No, this didn't make sense. His brother's smile was just a little too wide, his expression just a little too...odd. The nervousness in his eyes...

"What's wrong?"

Alfred opened his mouth but Matthew waved him off, knowing that his brother was about to protest that nothing was the matter. "Don't give me any of that 'nothing's wrong, I'm totally fine bullshit,' okay? You wouldn't have asked for me at this hour if there wasn't something serious on your mind."

Alfred laughed, but it sounded hollow. Matthew knew his brother too well. "Is it not okay for me to ask how my brother's doing?" he countered. "I was just-"

"Bullshit." Matthew stared directly into his brother's deep blue eyes. Alfred fidgeted under his gaze. "Tell me what's going on."

Alfred looked away, staring at god-knows-what outside the treehouse. Matthew waited in silence. He was trying to figure out what was going on his brother's mind. Usually it wasn't too difficult. Today though...

"I want to run away."

Matthew blinked. Although Alfred had said some pretty crazy stuff and had some pretty ridiculous ideas over the years, he'd never mentioned running away. Alfred never ran away. Alfred always ran towards danger, always. He was reckless, but he was brave. An idiot, but brave. Always running to rescue somebody else, always racing to help someone, even if they would be better off without it. Always cheery, always smiling. Matthew often wondered if Alfred had some sort of pride that kept him at it, some sort of need to always be the hero. He'd never figured it out.

"Why?" Matthew asked. That was the easiest question to ask, the simplest one on Matthew's mind.

Alfred bit his lip. "I just...I can't do it, Mattie," he whispered, staring out the treehouse. "I don't want to be king. Not now, not ever."

That didn't make sense at all. Alfred had always relished his position as king. Sure, sometimes he was overwhelmed by duty and responsibility, but Alfred was always meant to be king. Alfred had never known pain, not really. Well, except for when their mother died, but that was years ago now. Alfred had always known he'd be king, had always looked forwards to it. And Matthew had supported that. Alfred would be a good king. Just, persuasive, and effective. Maybe a little naïve, maybe a little quick to jump to conclusions, but he would have an advisor (a good advisor) to keep him in check.

"You've always been able to do it," Matthew said. He shifted closer to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, look at me." The melancholy atmosphere that surrounded the treehouse was so out of place and made Matthew a little frightened to be honest. Alfred managed to tear his eyes away from the darkness and look dully at Matthew. "You're gonna be a great king, Alfred."

"I don't want to," Alfred said hopelessly. He slid out from Matthew's hand, until he was basically lying on the floor. His head was propped against the wall of the treehouse, his glasses sliding down his nose. Alfred didn't even bother to readjust them. "I just want to be like you, Mattie. You don't know how good you've got it." The envy in Alfred's voice was so apparent that Matthew was taken aback. "You don't have to live up to any expectations, you can just do what you like. You set your own goals and they're a hundred percent your own. Not the stupid goals of the kingdom. You can drink beer and not worry about how people see you. You're...you're your own person. You're free."

Alfred slumped even further, if that was possible. "I'll never be free," he whispered.

Matthew was silent. He liked to think of himself as someone who could comfort his brother, yet in this moment, he was at a loss for words. Part of him felt that it was selfish for Alfred to act this way. Alfred had it all. One day, Alfred would be king. Matthew would never be as important as Alfred was. Alfred would always matter more. He would never tell his brother of these thoughts, but he thought them. As terrible as the jealousy felt, as selfish as Matthew knew he must be to think them, he thought them.

But at the same time, Matthew tried to see things from Alfred's perspective. Maybe Alfred had a lot, but he didn't have what Matthew had. Alfred didn't have friends who trusted and liked him. He only had Matthew. Alfred would never go drink in a tavern, would never be able to saunter out into the sun without a dozen eyes watching. In a way, Matthew did have it better than Alfred.

Matthew reached over and pulled his brother into a hug. "You can be free," he murmured. Alfred didn't say a word and Matthew continued. "One day, you and me will run away. Run away from this kingdom and this land and we'll run and run and we'll just keep running." Matthew didn't know what he was saying. They wouldn't run, they couldn't. Alfred knew that too. At least, Alfred couldn't run. The fate of the kingdom rested on his shoulders. And Matthew was sworn to protect Alfred. Forever. Usually, Matthew was logical, reasonable. But logic wouldn't comfort his brother. Logic was useless here. So Matthew continued rambling. "We'll be thieves, homeless thieves. We'll drink when we want and we'll eat whatever and we'll screw the law and whatever else goes with it."

Alfred laughed a little. It was only a short laugh, but it encouraged Matthew. "We'll run away," Matthew repeated. "We'll dance in dark little taverns and sleep in beds of hay and we'll just keep running and never look back. Maybe people will chase us, but screw them, we're gonna keep going."

Alfred pulled himself up and Matthew was glad to see that his brother was looking more like himself. He gave Matthew a smile and he leaned back against the wall again. "Mmm," Alfred said, closing his eyes. Matthew wondered what he was thinking about. "That sounds like the life."

Nothing would come of such a spur of the moment fantasy, but it was nice thinking that something might.

They were silent for a while, just sitting silently. Matthew was comfortable with this silence. It wasn't really silence, after all. There were the crickets chirping, and the distant slamming of a door. There was the sound of air, rushing between the cracks of the small treehouse. There was the wooshing of the leaves in the breeze, the sound of a lone owl, hooting in the night.

It was peaceful. It was very different from the pub, very different from the sort of company Matthew and Alfred usually had up here. But Matthew liked it.

Finally, after a while, Alfred finally spoke. "Do you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"Running away." Alfred bit his lip. "I know...I know we couldn't do it. That we shouldn't. I know that I've got to stay here and do what I need to do and you've got to do what you need to do, but...if we didn't...if we could...

"Would you run? With me?" Alfred looked like a child when he said those words, staring desperately at Matthew. Sometimes Matthew forgot that Alfred was his older brother. When Alfred was with Matthew, he was so...normal. So ordinary. Here he was, waiting for justification, waiting for Matthew's answer.

There was nothing Matthew wouldn't do for his brother.

"Of course."

Matthew returned to his room late that night. After their brief talk about running away, Matthew and Alfred had chatted for a while. Well, mostly Alfred chatted and Matthew listened. His brother recovered surprisingly quickly from his brief moment of depression. Matthew would never be able to recover that quickly from a thought like that. Had Alfred just tucked it away and pretended to be okay? No, that didn't sound like him... His brother was easy to read, yet at the same time, Matthew wondered if that was just because he was reading too shallowly.

Matthew pulled his shirt off and sat down heavily on his bed. Alfred...everything seemed to lead back to him. Alfred was the only one who had been there during Matthew's childhood after their mother's death. He was the only one that mattered.

Matthew loved Alfred unconditionally. He always had. He always would. Alfred was just easy to love, for Matthew. He had always been there. Sure, his brother could be a bit blunt and a bit stubborn and a bit of an idiot sometimes. Like the time when he insisted that there be a National Hamburger Day throughout the nation. Matthew was glad that decree hadn't been passed. But despite his flaws, Alfred was kind and caring and he was Matthew's brother. He was family.

Alfred had been there for him, always. And Matthew would be there for him as well.

Always.

Author's Note:

Gosh, I just love these two brothers. This chapter's a bit short, just to get things set straight.

This is based loosely off of "Servant of Evil" as well as the Hetalia version which can be found below. It will likely spoil the storyline.

This AU takes place in an arbitrary kingdom. There will be other kingdoms mentioned. Alfred, of course, is the Prince. Matthew is also a prince, however, since he is not going to take over the kingdom, his position is of little value. Thus, he joined the Castle Guard, giving up his title and his name in the process. The specific branch that Matthew works in will be elaborated on in later chapters.

I want to say more, but I'll leave the rest to be discovered and slowly unravelled in further chapters. As always, please do review!

Servant of Evil (Hetalia version): /watch?v=skj38WVv7wY

I do not own Servant of Evil or Hetalia. I really wish I did.