Epilogue

"How was business today?" Arthur asked the moment Lovino had stepped into the living room. The Italian was entirely oblivious to the fact that the pentacle Arthur had enchanted on the front door earlier that day while Lovino was at work now glowed with a misty blue and soft lilac light before fading away just as quickly as it flashed. The blond took another sip of tea—Earl Grey with a shot of rum—from his cup and praised Jia Long's natural talent for brewing tea flawlessly and perfectly. Setting the teacup back onto its saucer on the glass coffee table, the blond flipped another aged and yellowed page of his tome, not bothering to look away from the ancient words encoded within the pages, as his lover shuffled about the manor indignantly.

After about three months into their rekindled relationship, Lovino had agreed only two weeks ago to move into Arthur's magical manor that could easily shift its location between Rome and London or elsewhere whenever they pleased. The moment he had done so, however, it seemed that a werewolf infestation attacked his old apartment. Now living with his little brother was his best friend, Ludwig, and Ludwig's pack—Kerberos—marking it as part of their Italian territory. Lovino was not at all pleased, but what could he do when his little brother looked so damn happy?

"Chigi! Don't even mention work! The albino bastard and the damn giant are driving me up the wall!" The brunet flung his arms into the air dramatically before collapsing onto Arthur's new Italian leather sofa. Because of the children, it was not the white sectional Lovino had favoured but instead a dark variant of the design. After all, there was nothing more unappealing than getting stains from leaking juice boxes on such beautiful furniture. Lovino huffed exasperatedly and crossed his arms, grumbling, "I thought opening a caffè would be relaxing, dammit, but ever since they've started visiting, it's been anything but relaxing!"

"Oh, but you know you enjoy their company."

"If we give that albino mutt a sedative, then, yes, I would enjoy their damn company, bastard, since the blond giant is at least somewhat calmer..." Lovino faltered in his thoughts before quickly grumbling, "But, then again, anyone is calmer than that doggy bastard."

"Well, you're going to have to put up with them a little more, spitfire. The Frog rang me up today and said that there's an emergency meeting in Paris," Arthur informed casually before taking another delicate sip of his Earl Grey and rum. It was raining earlier in London, and the cool weather had pacified the children's play some. Just moments ago, they had all gathered in the living room, sipping hot chocolate and enjoying Arthur's recounting of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Afterwards, they had then re-enacted the battle between Peter Pan, played by Alfred, and Captain Hook, played by Arthur who was, as the children claimed, the best pirate in existence.

Of course, that peaceful atmosphere was sabotaged the moment Lovino entered the manor with his foul mood and language. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Do I have to go?" the Italian hissed irritatedly. Arthur was lucky that he had Kiku send the children to sleep before it was late into the night. While spirits did not technically need sleep, their energies would be better rejuvenated if there was a period of time where they were inactive. What was better than bedtime? It fit perfectly with their past routines, and it was also an excellent and effective excuse to evacuate them from the current vicinity. After all, he didn't need Alfred to pick up Lovino's foul language.

"He explicitly stated that your presence is necessary."

"What the hell? I finally thought we got to be alone." The pout in Lovino's tone was most evident, and despite the situation it made Arthur smile fondly at his younger lover. "Even though it's been three months, people are still popping their noses into our damn business. 'When are you two going to get hitched?' or 'Where are you planning to get married?' or 'Who is going to propose?' or 'Have you consummated your love yet?' Dammit! When the hell are we going to get time to ourselves? When the hell are they going to leave?"

"I hear the weather's lovely in Paris tonight," Arthur commented as he flipped another page of his tome. Huh, a spell to pacify anger... He'll have to look into that one later. The blond snapped his fingers, and a strip of post-it note peeled itself from the stack on the coffee table, floating into Arthur's idle hands, before the Briton marked the page. Lovino watched, momentarily distracted, before resuming his former stance and demeanour.

"Don't change the subject, bastard. What the hell are they planning? I know you know, dammit! They can never keep a secret from you!"

"It's because I'm the King of the Underworld."

"What does that make me?!"

"The King's current lover. Just relax and wear something pretty."

"I can't just relax because you tell me to! What am I? A dog?!"

"That's Gilbert's job," Arthur responded shortly with a playful smirk on his lips. He finished the rest of his cooling tea, setting it back onto its saucer and sending it floating through the air back into the kitchen and into the sink, and remarked, "Yours is simply to be my beautiful Italian lover with a shirty, feisty attitude. If you don't like the sound of that, you can be my beautiful Italian wife instead."

"Why the hell do I get the woman's role?" Lovino snapped bitterly, the implications of the latter statement flying right over his head.

Arthur only smiled weakly as he realised his lover hadn't even noticed the meaning underlying his words. Recovering from the rather harsh blow, Arthur continued the light-hearted conversation between the two of them, playfully chiming, "Because I'm the king."

"Damn you."

"Already damned, spitfire—I'm already damned." Arthur snaked an arm around Lovino's waist and pulled the brunet closer into his body for a brief kiss. His smile widened, softening into an expression of blissful delight, when he felt the Italian's lips twitch into a subtle smile. "You'll be in a more agreeable mood later, I would hope? The Frog said that it was pretty important."

"What does it matter? If the flea-ridden bastard is going to be there and if the perverted bastard is planning something," Lovino grumbled, "I'm going to be pretty pissed off sooner or later. They drive me insane, and they're even crazier with my bastard of a cousin. Where the hell do they get all of that damn energy?"

Arthur chuckled lowly with building apprehension and nervousness. Lovino had made a bloody good point. It was enough having to deal with the extreme personalities of the Four Lords; throwing Carriedo into that mix was asking for total lawlessness. If Arthur wanted to see anarchy—pure anarchy at its finest—then he would have paid a visit to Hell, and he hasn't done that in a few couple hundred years for obvious reasons. He always got a splitting headache afterwards. "On the bright side," Arthur remarked, "at least Yao Wang would try to control them—along with Mathias' clan and Gilbert's pack. Ivan Braginsky's coven and the Frog's house are a little more on the sketchy side of events, however; they tend to act on their own interests."

"Yao Wang, that potato eater, and Roderich Edelstein are anal retentive bastards though. Plus, that Lukas bastard looks at me like I'm some lab experiment, and that drives me batshit crazy, too," Lovino retorted. "It would only heighten my headache, dammit."

"There really is no silver lining with you, is there, spitfire?" Arthur teased dryly, rolling his eyes before flipping through another page of his tome. Damn, the blond cursed his luck as he realised that he might not be able to find the right spell just before departing for that so-called meeting Francis had arranged. Perhaps it was the wrong decision to search through all of his tomes and grimoires and volumes manually instead of using magic to scour automatically for the right spell. Honestly, he had an idea of what to do, but Arthur would feel better comforted if he could actually find the bloody spell. Nevertheless, he tried not to let his frustration show on his visage as he mentioned, "We've only a half hour at best. Are you ready?"

"You're not even going to give me time to relax, dammit, you bastard?" Lovino growled under his breath impatiently. He crinkled his nose in disgust before huffing in disdain. "You know what? Whatever! I'm going! I'm going, so don't you dare complain about my 'shirty' attitude, got it, asshole?"

"You're so cheery this evening, Lovino. It's just lovely. Absolutely lovely Lovino."

"You and your fucking sarcasm, bastard."

"We're already in Paris, by the way," Arthur mentioned almost offhandedly. "I rigged the teleportation pentacle to activate for when you walked past the door."

"Dammit! You knew I was going to cave in, didn't you? And stop looking at that book! You have me right beside you, don't you, bastard?!"

Arthur attempted to suppress the smirk from creeping onto his lips but was unsuccessful. A stifled laugh slipped past his lips as he pressed a chaste kiss onto Lovino's temple as though it would wash away both of Lovino's sour attitude and foul mood. He really hoped that it did work, however, and it would be a bonus if it would chase away any headaches as well—for the both of them. "You would one way or another," Arthur explained cheekily. His fingers snapped his tome shut with a satisfying clap that sent shudders down Lovino's spine. It was, in a way, quite attractive of Arthur to do so—especially with that seductive spark in his eyes. Lovino arched into his touch as Arthur's nimble fingers slipped underneath the fabric of his shirt and as his lover began whispering softly into his ear, his pale lips brushing against the shell of Lovino's ear, his moist, warm breath ghosting the skin of his ear. "Are you in a more agreeable mood, luv?" he teased playfully, nipping Lovino's ear, relishing that hot and bothered flush staining Lovino's cheeks. Dropping his tome onto the side table and freeing his other hand, Arthur cupped the side of his lover's face and rubbed the scarlet tinge adoringly as though it would further smear the passionate colour.

"B-Bastard," Lovino choked out, leaning into Arthur's body to steal a hungry and lustful kiss, bringing the already close Briton closer by wrapping his arms around that slender neck. Once he managed to pull himself away from his lover's kisses, he asked of the blond, "Do we really have to go to that pervert's meeting?"

"Unfortunately, we'll have to suffer through what he's been planning, but I promise it won't last long," Arthur whispered gently before inclining his head towards the front door. "Ready?"

Lovino clicked his tongue, tutting in disdain, before huffing, "Let's just get this shit over with," and allowing Arthur to pull him to his feet. The Italian shuffled after his British lover begrudgingly, crossing his arms as he watched Arthur unlock the door with another snap of his fingers. "How lazy can you be?" Lovino griped although he himself wished that he was capable of executing such a feat.

Arthur merely smiled and remarked, "I don't really want to hear that from you—lazy sod. In the past three months, you've never done any of the cleaning around the manor! Poor, pitiful Kiku—always cleaning your mess in the kitchen!"

Lovino's cheeks flared with indignation as he snapped, "There's a very good reason for that, bastard!"

"Oh? Pray tell, spitfire."

Lovino averted his eyes from Arthur's amused scrutiny, shifting his weight between his feet nervously with growing embarrassment, as Arthur properly locked the door with his own two fingers instead of a snap of his fingers as though he was appealing to Lovino's lack of magical abilities. "I've never been good at cleaning," Lovino confessed sheepishly. "You can even ask that tomato bastard—but don't."

"Why not?" Arthur questioned as he glanced about them. The night had settled across Paris by now, but the amount of darkness covering them was not enough to discreetly hold Lovino's hand. After all, Paris was the city of lights aside from the city of romance. Either way, shroud or not, Lovino would throw a fit if Arthur tried anything—not that he really wanted to do anything so childish like holding hands... but he really did want to hold hands. It was little tender things to do with one's lover, like hand holding, that he missed in the past millennia. He bit the inside of his lip to refrain from grimacing with disappointment upon feeling the back of Lovino's hand brush against his—so bloody close! "If you really didn't want me to ask, you shouldn't have even bothered mentioning Carriedo's name," Arthur remarked as a smirk danced on his lips. "It's like you want me to find out... Do you?"

Lovino spluttered nonsensical syllables, cheeks red and hot, before spitting out, "Chigi!'

"I don't mind playing the role of a sleuth, spitfire, if you're so shy," Arthur teased light-heartedly. The back of his hand brushed against Lovino's, and he was soon surprised to feel their fingers lace together, intertwining and entwining like a perfect fit. He pursed his lips together to stifle that delighted smile threatening to climb onto his lips, suddenly feeling meek and shy like a silly lovesick schoolboy—not that he had much experience with such a sensation. At that sudden rush of emotion, however, a burst of vermilion stained Arthur's cheeks as well, matching that of Lovino's.

Lovino elbowed Arthur lightly, snapping, "Don't you dare ask that tomato bastard anything about my childhood, okay?"

"You'll tell me yourself?"

"Ha! You're going to need a bottle of wine, a basket of tomatoes, and some fucking flowers decorating a table covered with five-star meals if that's ever going to happen!"

Arthur smiled gently. "That can be arranged."

"Chi-Chigi..." Lovino mumbled weakly as he realised that his deterrent wasn't much of a deterrent after all. Arthur only seemed more determined to weed out a story of Lovino's childhood past his lips from its dark corners in his mind, buried within the shadows and sealed in the pages of history.

The two of them strolled down the Parisian streets in silence as Arthur navigated them to Francis' nightclub. Lovino's hazel eyes fell upon the stream of light spiralling in the night sky; even now, the River Vitae mystified him. He was sure that it would have been a sight to see the river of life mingle with the stars had Paris not been the City of Light. He stretched out his hand, gently brushing the tips of his fingers against the strings of light, awing when little glimmering particles danced about his fingertips. Arthur watched him with a smile and whispered softly, "I told you—from the very first day we met—that it was beautiful."

"Yeah, well, you're not wrong, bastard," Lovino responded just as gently despite the content of his sentence. Arthur was well used to his harsh, jarring language by now to know that Lovino had difficulty being honest, and the Briton didn't blame him. Telling the truth was one of the hardest things for an individual to do; a millennia of schemes and trickeries and betrayals and secrecies had taught him much. Nevertheless, he felt that he learnt more with Lovino at his side. The brunet was always surprising him.

Upon reaching Francis' nightclub, the blond pulled open the doors without further ado and gestured for Lovino to enter the establishment first. The Italian cast his lover a sceptical glance before obliging, grunting a timid thank you, and stepping inside the building. Unlike his first time in the club, there was no wispy white fog that swirled about the floor with a sickeningly sweet scent, and there was no classical music drifting about the atmosphere. There were no ethereal bodies clinging to each other in the booths or on the dance floor, nor was there any sign of humans. Still, the lighting was dimmed, and the room was almost entirely darkened.

"It's kind of creepy," Lovino mumbled under his breath, stepping closer to his lover. He begrudgingly stepped forward to match Arthur's pace, but, if he was completely honest, Lovino, in truth, did not want to be separated from his lover—not ever again. He watched apprehensively as Arthur delicately picked a slip of paper from the bar counter while his glowering emeralds skimmed through its contents. The blond arched an eyebrow as his eyes flashed with indignation. "W-What's wrong, bastard?" the Italian spluttered nervously as he subconsciously tightened his hold on Arthur's hand. The Briton, upon sensing his companion's sudden shift in mood, gawked momentarily before returning Lovino's tight grasp as though to comfort him.

"Nothing," Arthur responded calmly as he crumpled the note. "We were just played."

After processing his lover's reply, Lovino snatched the balled note from Arthur's hand and pulled it open. A hot flush surged to his cheeks as he read the message to himself but to his great dismay found himself unable to do so—the contents were entirely in French. He only managed to recognise a few Latin roots. "What does it say?"

"They're sending us on a scavenger hunt," Arthur explained brusquely, obviously not too pleased with Francis' roundabout method. "How do you feel about dinner on the Eiffel Tower?"

Lovino's stomach growled. His reddened cheeks darkened in colour, putting his tomatoes to shame. Averting his gaze as Arthur stifled his laughter, he answered, "Sure, dammit. Are we walking there?"

"It's not that far of a walk," the blond responded with a smile. He inclined his head towards the exit, silently asking if Lovino was ready to leave. Without much of a response, Lovino pulled Arthur along, increasing his pace. He just wanted to finish whatever the perverted bastard wanted and get it out of the way. Really, a bath and bed sounded absolutely perfect right about now.

Upon reaching the Eiffel Tower, Arthur led Lovino around the long lines to a location indicated by the map, bypassing the queue, where they met with Julchen standing guard at the secret entrance. The pale young woman was dressed in a military uniform that differed some from Alistair's. She wore a white button shirt with a stylish and feminine tie underneath a black long coat with a miniskirt and military boots that stretched past her knees, reaching the middle of her thighs. She grinned mischievously upon sighting Arthur and Lovino. "Finally!" she exclaimed, propping her hands on her hips, as she continued beaming at them. "I thought you two might never show up!"

"Julchen," Arthur greeted with a nod. Her eyes softened upon focusing on the blond in a way that Lovino didn't exactly appreciate. "How have you been?"

"Amazing!" Julchen chirped as she approached the couple. The grin on her lips faded into an affectionate smile that was awfully rare of her. Lovino really didn't like the atmosphere between the two. They were just too comfortable with each other! "After Franny disbanded your harem, I enlisted in the military and climbed up the ranks—no sweat! Guess who's one of your new lieutenants? How do I look?" She struck a pose, jutting her hips seductively and placing her hands atop of them, while winking at the Demon King.

He smiled at her politely and responded, "Congratulations, Julchen! You look wonderful; a military uniform complements your strong will and attitude marvellously."

She giggled effeminately and replied, "I'll... I'll always serve you, Your Majesty. I will be your shield and sword for as long as I am useful. It is my duty as one of your Twenty-Four Knights of the Underworld, after all." Her heterochromatic eyes dropped to the ground, somewhat glassy underneath the lighting of the tower, in order to turn her gaze away from the happy couple. A dark sensation reminiscent of guilt welled in Lovino's stomach. "Franny, well, he—uh, I guess—he reserved a dinner date under your name for the two of you. Something like that. It's on the second level." She pulled open the door, revealing the pitch blackness of a portal swirling with the colours of darkness, and gave Lovino an encouraging smile. "I'm... I'm happy for you, or, well, I mean... It's awesome that you two are together."

She sneaked behind Arthur and Lovino and gave them a push forward. The two of them stumbled into the portal, past a dimension, and into what was supposed to be the restaurant on the second level. Instead of Le Jules Verne, however, Arthur and Lovino found themselves the observation deck of the tower, cleared of any tourists. There was a small round table for two near the windows, adorned with a simple but sophisticated white tablecloth, a single candelabra aglow with gentle flames, and an ornate vase containing a single red rose. Arthur and Lovino approached the set curiously and cautiously before Arthur pulled out a chair for Lovino. Flushing, the brunet took a seat, and Arthur joined him on the other side.

"Well, aren't the two of you idioti cosy?" snapped a bitter female voice from the side. Their heads whipped to the side to find the Italian twins Alice and Chiara standing there dressed in matching waitress uniforms.

Chiara narrowed her amber eyes at Lovino, causing him to stiffen nervously, but approached the table nevertheless with a bottle of wine in her arms. Her sister, on the other hand, greeted them both cheerfully and set the wine glasses in front of them. Chiara expertly uncorked the bottle and poured the red wine with elegance and splendour before setting the bottle on the table. At that moment, Marianne slipped into the scene, dressed as a waitress as well, gracefully carrying their plated dinners and setting the two plates in front of the couple. A dark emotion pooled in Lovino's stomach; Arthur could have had any one of these beautiful ladies. They were graceful and elegant and sophisticated. On the other hand, Lovino was anything but that! He was clumsy and short-tempered and foul. He was anything but perfect, yet Arthur was still together with him.

"Votre dîner—préparé par le Chef Bonnefoy," the Frenchwoman sang merrily as she served the two of them. "Bon appetit!"

The three young women then turned on their heels and disappeared into the darkness. Arthur and Lovino exchanged bemused glances before both cracking a shy smile. Arthur lifted his wine glass in a toast, and Lovino copied his actions. Their glasses clinked together, both of them giving their silent cheers like secret prayers, as they began to dig into their meals.

Course after course was served diligently by the three girls. After the hor d'oeuvres was the fish course garnished with vegetables and accompanied with a lemon sorbet to "refresh the senses," according to le Chef Bonnefoy. For the main course was le bifteck cooked to perfection, marinated and seasoned expertly, plated elegantly with another vegetable garnish, followed by a fresh, seasonal salad to "cleanse the palate," as—once again—stated by le Chef Bonnefoy. Then, earning Arthur's dry remarks about how "the bloody Frog is such a wino cheese monkey sometimes," was the cheese plate with freshly cut fruit and even more wine. Lastly was dessert, finishing with a move that surprised both Arthur and Lovino. Francis had prepared a single slice of a sponge cake with whipped cream between the three layers—Lovino's signature angel cake—and although it didn't quite taste the same, Arthur and Lovino were silently touched by the Frenchman's decision. The few British items on Lovino's menu from the time of his amnesia, after all, were influenced—unconsciously, perhaps—by Arthur's presence.

While Lovino wasn't so fond of French cuisine in comparison to his mother's traditional Italian cooking, he had to admit that Francis bastard did an okay job by the time dinner was over. Arthur had seemed to enjoy it as well despite the fact that he was desperately hiding how he actually liked the Frog's culinary talents. Everyone knew that he probably really delighted in dining here at the Eiffel Tower, however, by all of the degrading comments Arthur had slipped about Francis. Lovino had to smile. Arthur always looked like he was enjoying every meal as though it was his last even though he technically did not need to eat physically.

Their meal had passed with idle and leisurely conversation, stimulating yet relaxing, before Alice stepped into the scene. She handed Arthur a note with a smile, pecking his cheek affectionately before doing the same to Lovino. "Congratulazioni!" she whispered to Lovino as the latter flushed heavily with embarrassment. With a friendly wave and an amiable smile that appeared somewhat hurt, Alice returned to whence she had come. Arthur unfolded the note and scanned its contents before sighing again.

"What is it this time?" Lovino asked the blond.

"Gilbert," Arthur grunted before handing the Italian the note. Not that he needed to do so, Lovino noted with slight dismay as he noticed the latest message was written in German. Lovino returned it back to Arthur, who immediately scrutinised its contents yet again, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows in thought. "The wanker is inviting us on a gondola ride down the Rhine River in Germany."

"How are we supposed to get to Germany?" Lovino blurted in surprise. Arthur pointed to the note yet again.

"There's a rune here. This is probably Kiku's or maybe even Lukas' or Vladimir's work. There's no prominent signature to be found at first sight—not that it even matters at this point. At any rate, I believe that it serves the same purpose as my teleportation pentagrams," the blond informed before grasping Lovino's hand. Before the Italian could protest his sudden actions, Arthur smiled and retorted, "You don't want to get separated, do you?" The blond traced the block-like pattern of the rune with the tip of his forefinger, fuelling it with the necessary magic, before it glowed with supernatural properties that suddenly flashed white light.

Regaining his bearings, Lovino soon lost them yet again as he felt his weight shift unevenly between his feet. He shrieked as he fell backwards, but before he could tumble overboard, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and pull him forward. Collapsing into someone's lap, straddling the person's waist, Lovino's cheeks reddened with pure shame and embarrassment and humiliation. When a familiar soft chuckle brushed against his ear, Lovino peeked through half-lidded eyes and found Arthur beaming at him. "A tad bit clumsy now, aren't we?"

"Chi-Chigi!" he squealed, pushing Arthur away desperately, but upon feeling the low wall of the gondola press against his back, he resigned himself to his lover's lap with a hot blush coating his cheeks. He didn't dare look up from the wooden floor beneath them; still, he was quite content with Arthur's chin resting atop his shoulder. Lovino could feel the gentle golden strands of his lover's hair brush against his skin. Forcing himself to ignore the soft giggles from a girl watching them nearby and to ignore the fact that there was a damn violinist playing music for them, Lovino attempted to relax in Arthur's warm embrace, reminded of the times when his white wings had sheltered the Italian from all and any harm. When a pair of feet intruded his line of vision, however, Lovino was forced to look into another pair of green eyes different from that of Arthur's.

Elizaveta gave him an encouraging smile and handed him a note before returning to her seat between Ludwig, who was rowing the damn gondola according to Elizaveta's map, and Roderich, who had been playing the violin all this time. Arthur unfolded the note with Lovino in his arms, and the two of them read the next message together.

"Spanish?" Lovino whispered under his breath as he roughly translated the message by himself. He didn't bother asking Arthur for help since his own pride was at stake. Arthur had already managed to translate the French and German messages, after all.

Hello, Lovi, Arturo!

By now, you have probably have eaten dinner in Paris and cruised down the Rhine in Germany. Gil and Francisco have tried to set a romantic mood, but Francisco and Mathias—and even I—think that the "Romantic Rhine" refers to the Rhine as it was during the Roman Empire. I'm not sure if Gil knows that though, but it might actually be romantic—who knows? I've never been!

Anyway, I know that I haven't been the most supportive of your relationship, but I do want Lovi to be happy. Arturo most likely thinks that he doesn't need my help, but he's too shy to initiate anything. I know he is since I've dated him before! I always had to pull him along, but enough about me! We—Francisco, Gilbert, Mathias, and I—have to do all of this for him, but he still hasn't done anything, has he?

There's one more stop you want to make. I think this glyph or rune or whatever it is will take you there. It is where you want to be the most. I know it is.

Have you seen the stars yet, Lovi? Arturo hasn't shut up about it. You have seen the stars at least, haven't you?

"What is he talking about, Arthur?" Lovino whispered softly, avoiding the scrutinising gaze of Elizaveta and the critical one of Ludwig. He glanced at the blond behind him and found that Arthur was blushing from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. Raking a hand through his dishevelled hair distraughtly, the Englishman found himself unable to speak for the longest time.

"Carriedo can't keep a secret," he grumbled before activating the rune.

Another blinding white light flashed before them, and Lovino winced as he clung closely to Arthur.

"Looks like the outside is finished at least."

Lovino raised his head and found that Arthur was studying a structure in front of them. Turning around, the brunet met with the sight of a white mansion built in a Romanesque style, and instead of the rubble and debris and the soot and ashes from four years ago, the Vargas estate was clean and pristine. It was as good as new.

"W-What is this?" Lovino stammered as he relinquished Arthur's hand to clutch at the iron gates barring them from entering. His eyes widened beyond the size of dinner plates, rivalling the circumference of the moon, as he studied the building in front of him. It was definitely the Vargas estate. It was definitely the house where he was raised for almost nineteen years of his life. It was his home. Tears formed in his eyes, and he attempted in vain to blink them away and to prevent them from falling and rolling down his cheeks, dripping off his chin. Of course, he failed. Falling to his knees, hands still clutching the iron bars, he asked Arthur, "Did you do this?"

"We left it as it was four years ago, practically decimated," Arthur explained. "I could tell you were attached to this place. You did grow up here. I was attached to Britain as well, so I... I understand that you would miss it. During those four years when I was in a coma, I never did give orders to renovate this place. I started issuing them sometime after the shut-down. It's not entirely done yet since it's only been a few months, but I'm sure they'll be finished soon."

"Y-You... Ugh," Lovino swallowed a sob and choked on his tears. He snapped indignantly, glaring at Arthur through his tears, spitting, "Dammit! Why the hell do you always have to make me cry, you fucking bastard?" Arthur stood frozen in his spot, stunned and petrified, before gradually approaching Lovino. The Italian made no such move to push him away. Lovino inhaled sharply as Arthur caressed him gently, taking in his lover's aromatic scent of tea leaves, herbs and plants, as well as rum, and still allowed the blond to wrap his arms around his body and basked in his tender warmth and love. Lovino leaned closer to his torso, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, spilling his tears into the cloth, as Arthur rested his forehead against his shoulder.

"Are you displeased?"

"Nn..." Lovino responded weakly, "No, I'm not. Not at all. I'm..." He paused, trying to gather his words, and continued awkwardly, "I'm surprised, a little pissed, but... happy. A lot happy."

Arthur smiled, and the Italian could feel his lips curve against his shoulder. "Do you want to go in?"

"C-Can we?"

"It's your home," Arthur responded blatantly. "You call the shots." He smiled when Lovino beamed at him, tugging at his hand excitedly, as he eagerly led Arthur inside the estate. They ventured down the halls and up the stairs, each floor of the estate and each and every room of the estate, with their own story for Lovino to tell Arthur. The blond recalled his earlier request to hear more of Lovino's childhood that night, and he was quite touched that he hadn't needed to bribe Lovino into speaking of his past.

"This is Feliciano's art studio. I remember how that idiota would stay holed up in this room for days just painting. I don't know what the hell he does in there for so long, but whenever he comes out of there, he's always smiling... So I guess it's okay that he does that. I just wish that he would eat a little more while he's in there.

"This is my mother's garden. Felici and I always played out here while she was planting. She had all kinds of flowers and herbs and fruits and vegetables. Sometimes we got to help her, too, and, well, I ended up taking over for her after she died. She loved this garden so much that I couldn't let it die and wither away... I should probably take that up again. I actually kind of like gardening. Ugh, dammit, I sound like some kind of country bumpkin, but... it's true. It's pretty relaxing.

"This is my father's library. He doesn't have many English books, but he has a lot of poetry collections—mostly sonnets. He has a couple of Shakespearean plays, too. I don't really understand a couple of his books, but I do like reading them from time to time. When I was a kid, he used to seat me at his desk and read poetry—usually fairy tales. I did my homework in here, too, and he was always around to help me. He's pretty messy, so I used to try and help him clean up... but that never turned out well. Don't ask why, and—and don't give me that look, you bastard! I'm not telling you any time soon! You probably figured out that I'm fucking terrible at housecleaning anyway—ugh, dammit!

"This is Nonno's study. I don't come in here often, but when I did... There were never any pleasant news attached. This was where he told me my parents died, and this was where Valentino, the bastard, told me that Nonno died. I'd rather remember Nonno always being in the kitchen. He was always cooking something, and he always used tomatoes to cook... but he always cooked pasta because Feliciano loves pasta, the idiota. I couldn't complain though because at least he used tomatoes.

"This is the ballroom. Nonno liked to throw parties, too—especially soirées. I remember that he would invite all sorts of people—businessmen and women, their families, designers, artists and musicians, actors and actresses, and, of course, other Mafioso with whom he was on good terms. I think I liked them better when I was a kid..." Lovino faltered as the two of them strolled into the vast ballroom. Their footsteps echoed in the large vicinity, bouncing off the walls all around them, as they stepped against the elegant marble flooring, a soft golden matte colour.

"Why is that?" Arthur asked him curiously.

"Well, when I was younger, I was still... oblivious to the dealings, you know? Everything seemed magical to me," Lovino confessed sheepishly. "The ladies in their lavish ball gowns, the men in their black and white suits, the delicious aroma of the catered food, the live music—a small orchestra—and the dancing especially. Everyone seemed like they were stepping on clouds, just... just... just floating. Then when I was around fifteen, I learnt that not all of the bastards and bitches who showed up at these parties were good, and it... it kind of lost that quality. I didn't like them as much any more." Ducking his head to hide the red blush on his cheeks, Lovino grumbled, "It sounds stupid, I know, and I sound like a little brat, too... I know, so don't make fun of me, dammit."

"I'm not," Arthur assured as he ventured the ballroom, exploring the new surroundings. His hand ghosted the smooth surface of a pillar, studying the elegant carvings and engravings. They resembled Ancient Roman columns. Romulus Vargas was definitely a cultured man. Without turning to Lovino, he recited, "'The more I learn, the more I realise that the less I know,' as spoken by Albert Einstein, am I right? It's natural to feel that way. The universe holds all sorts of mysteries, and one of the greatest mysteries is the human heart. It's a trait that the gods and daemons in general do not possess—humanity. Most of us envy that, really. It's what makes humans alive, so to speak." Arthur smiled at Lovino. "We can only seem human, but... you make me feel alive, Lovino. It's very overstated and overused. Still, I do feel that way; I'm starting to feel human again. It's... It's quite nice, actually."

Arthur sauntered to a nearby balcony and opened the glass doors, allowing the night wind to creep inside the ballroom. Motioning his hand like a conductor of a symphony, he orchestrated a stream of light to flow into the Vargas estate. Lovino watched, amazed and astounded, as the River Vitae diverged innumerable times, swirling around the floor, to form elegant figures of glowing light—a soft yellow in colour and intensity—consisting of primly dressed men in evening suits and ornately dressed women in ball gowns. The men of light bowed politely and silently asked for their partner's hand in a dance. Each and every figure paired together, and every pair joined together in a ballroom dance, stepping gracefully to a song only they could hear. Lovino was instantaneously whisked to a distant dream, watching them with awe and amazement, feeling as though he was once again a child at one of his grandfather's extravagant parties.

"Something like this, I suppose," Arthur murmured under his breath as he massaged his temples in thought, attempting to recall if this was the correct spell and if this was even what a ball would look like. It has been a while since he has thrown a formal soirée, after all. Lifting his gaze, he smiled at Lovino and stretched out his hand. "Shall we dance?"

Lovino flushed with embarrassment. "I-I don't know how to d-dance. I never learnt since, well, I told you, I didn't have much of an interest in those parties any more," the Italian mumbled timidly as he dropped his eyes on the floor.

"Nobody's watching," Arthur promised, that gentle, adoring smile still lingering on his lips.

"T-There's no music!"

A low hum rumbled from Arthur's direction, vibrating melodiously and harmoniously in Lovino's ears, in a warm and tender serenade. The song faded to a cease, and when Lovino lifted his gaze, Arthur was still smiling at him—though more mischievously than ever—and then remarked, "I don't think that will be a problem, my little spitfire." He beamed when Lovino reluctantly accepted his outstretched hand and immediately brought Lovino closer to his build. "I hope you don't mind learning the English waltz," Arthur whispered softly as he guided Lovino's left hand onto his right shoulder. Slipping his hand on Lovino's back, Arthur then clasped their hands together and decreased the distance between their bodies just like the dancers around them. Lovino flushed with embarrassment and dropped his gaze to their feet before Arthur released his hand to tilt Lovino's chin upwards. He smiled encouragingly. "Eyes on me," the blond instructed shortly. "We'll take it easy—one step per beat, three beats per measure. Follow my lead."

With that, the Englishman then began to count off the beat rhythmically, stressing the first beat every single time, creating his own song for them to enjoy. The counting ceased into an actual ballad that Arthur had began to sing into Lovino's ear, crooning softly and gently, as their formal waltz dissolved into leisurely swaying. Hazel eyes fluttered shut as a moist breath ghosted olive skin. Lovino pressed a chaste and innocent kiss against Arthur's nape and stilled with apprehension as Arthur paused. The Italian pulled away curiously and watched as the dancing figures with their beautiful ball gowns and expensive evening suits slowly and gradually dissolved once more into particles of light, flowing back into the River Vitae.

"Arthur...?" Lovino whispered softly.

Scarlet stained his cheeks as he averted his eyes from Lovino meekly. His lips parted as though he wanted to speak, but then he closed them again. A strangled noise ripped itself from his throat, and worry consumed Lovino's being. It was then that he remembered Antonio's note.

"You wanted to tell me something?"

Arthur pursed his lips together and nodded hesitantly before pulling Lovino to the balcony as though to escape the party of his dreams and imagination. The Italian followed uncharacteristically obedient for once and nearly gasped at the sight that awaited him. The stars were clear in the sky, and the River Vitae danced among the them. The brunet glanced at his blond haired lover, who leaned against the railing of the balcony, fiddling with his thumbs, as the Englishman scoured his empty head for the perfect words to say.

"It's... It's only been three months."

"Y-Yeah?"

"It's been a rather short time—but good! A good short, or, ah, rather short, time!" Arthur continued frenetically as his eyes darted here and there and everywhere but Lovino. "I-I-I mean... I meant... Oh, bloody hell." He palmed his forehead before continuing to hide his reddening face behind his hands. "Shit," he muttered. There was a pause. Then he repeated, "Shit."

"A-Arthur...? Dammit, s-s-stop it! Y-You're freaking me out, bastard!" Lovino's thoughts raced to and fro within his mind as he leapt from one conclusion to another with only Arthur's muddled words as the clue. No matter what, they sounded like the beginning of a breakup—one that Lovino especially did not want—with how the Briton was trying to spare his feelings and with how he was strangely nervous in regards to all of these feelings.

"I can't help it!" Arthur snapped indignantly as he threw his arms into the air exasperatedly. "I'm so damn nervous, and I don't know what the bloody hell to do—what to say! I told that Frog and Gilbert and Mathias and Carriedo that I'd do this on my own because it's really not any of their business about what goes on between us! Now they're trying to expedite things, and I'm thrown off my pace, and... and... Shit." He covered his face yet again in shame. "This is fucking awful—absolutely fucking terrible. It's... It's not what I had planned at all."

"What were you trying to do?" Lovino asked tentatively, crossing his arms defensively just in case Arthur lost his usual calm yet again. A part of him was weak and weary, however, still hanging onto his earlier assumptions.

"How..." Arthur paused and turned his gaze to the sky. "How do you feel about marriage?"

"M-Marriage?" Lovino repeated with a nervous stutter. His cheeks reddened as he remarked, "I told you four years ago. I only want to marry someone I love and someone who loves me back—to treasure and to cherish and—"

"To worship until death do us part," Arthur finished with a gentle smile. "I should be reassured by those words, but I'm still so bloody nervous. I'm... I'm trying to propose to you, silly git."

Lovino's eyes widened again that night, and Arthur's smile turned into a sheepish grin as he dug into the pocket of his jacket to pull out a small velvet box. He pulled it open to reveal a simple platinum band engraved with a pentagram, and within the centre of that pentagram was a rose embedded with a small diamond carat. Arthur knew that Lovino hated being flashy.

"Shit," Lovino muttered in the same fashion as Arthur had earlier while distress filled his core. "Shit." Tears flooded his eyes, and he attempted to blink them away before Arthur could notice them. However, his attempts were futile. Arthur pocketed the ring and pulled Lovino closer to him, wiping away his tears fluidly with the pad of his thumb. "Dammit, you sly bastard! You... You..." He cracked. "Why me? You had at least twenty-four other girls to choose from, but you chose me."

"It wasn't a matter of choosing," Arthur protested. "There was nobody else to begin with. There was only you. Don't you know, Lovino? We're soul mates. We're a matching pair. Two of a kind." As though to prove his point, he lifted his hand and conjured a flame of brilliant blue. "What do you see?"

"A fire," Lovino mumbled as he shied away from Arthur's touch.

"What kind of fire?"

"Y-Your life essence... I think that's what it's called..."

"It's as much yours as it is mine," Arthur insisted, closing his open palm and extinguishing the flames. He inched closer to Lovino and embraced the Italian, cradling him in his arms, and pressed continuous and consistent kisses on the top of his head. "It's one and the same. My family—the strongest demons in existence—has seen your soul at least once, and they've noticed as well. Your soul is the same as mine, and I don't mean just in colour. I don't mean that it's just your soul either. It was always you, Lovino—not just Romano, but Lovino Vargas. It's whom you are as you are that I love, and it's you as you are that I want to love and marry and cherish for the rest of my existence... for as long as I live."

"Dammit, you bastard," Lovino mumbled into Arthur's chest, burying his tears into the fabric of his shirt, "what the hell are you trying to do to me? I can't say no, dammit." Arthur smiled into Lovino's hair. "Come to my room," Lovino muttered. "I don't want to leave here—not yet."

"Of course."

Instead of giving Arthur his own room, the Italian shyly pulled his English lover into his bedroom, where the blond promptly made himself comfortable—with Lovino's permission, of course. After all, he was a gentleman, and he would decidedly not snoop around Lovino's belongings... even though the Italian's single bookcase looked plenty interesting. Once Lovino left the room to shower by himself, as Arthur would rather give him some time alone to think about his options and future but not long enough to think too much and worry himself sick, the Briton sauntered over to the bookshelf lined against the wall. Lovino's collection and even his father's library did not even rival the size of the Tower of Arthur's manor, but, admittedly, the Tower possessed mostly tomes and grimoires and volumes of spell books with an occasional classic novel or play. Lovino's collection was more modern. The books were usually no more than three hundred pages in length, ranging from dramatic thrillers to comedic narratives.

Gingerly pulling a random book from the shelf, Arthur reached into one of the drawers of Lovino's bedside table in search of a bookmark on the off-chance that he wouldn't finish the book. His emerald eyes fell upon a box of condoms placed next to a bottle of lubricant. His cheeks reddened heavily at the sight before taking notice of the note next to it. Written sloppily in Danish were the words, "I had a discussion with Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio, and we figured that, if you two made it all the way here, there would be a use for this!"

Immediately slamming the drawer shut with embarrassment and indignation, Arthur forced himself to calm, relaxing his violent heartbeat, before he threw off his shoes and collapsed onto Lovino's plush mattress, reclining his back against the pillows and covering himself with the soft silken fabric of the blankets, as he flipped to the first page of the book, which he soon found to be a collection of Italian fairy tales. He diligently flicked through the first story, completed the second tale, and was nearly finished with the third if it wasn't for his mischievous lover. Being too engrossed in the foreign fairy tales, Arthur hadn't heard Lovino step through the door and into the bedroom with only a cotton towel wrapped around his waist; neither had he heard the rustling of fabric as the brunet crawled underneath the covers. It was only when he felt nimble fingers tug impatiently at his trousers and pulling down his pants in a jerking motion that he was suddenly aware of another presence in the room.

He stifled a low, throaty moan as he felt Lovino's plush lips press against the tip of his cock and a delicate, warm tongue lapping at the underside of his head. All of his heat surged to the lower region of his body as those pouty lips of his damn sexy Italian lover parted wider, slackening his lower jaw, opening to envelop as much of Arthur's aching member as he could in his heated cavern. The Englishman pressed his arm against his mouth, swallowing his moans as they came, as his lover lapped and licked and sucked, rubbing and caressing and massaging everything he could not reach, focusing on only pleasuring the blond. The hand holding the collection of fairy tales trembled, and upon loosening his grip, the book fell over the side of the bed with a heavy thud against the wooden flooring of the bedroom. Now free, Arthur's hand strayed to Lovino's rich brown tresses, weaving within those dampened locks, encouraging his lover to continue, lost in the throes of pleasure.

Just as he danced closer to release, Lovino pulled away with a pop! As the Italian sat upright, the blanket slipped away from Arthur body and slid over Lovino's bare skin, pooling in a mess behind the brunet. The towel was draped haphazardly over his lap, but it did nothing to hide his lover's arousal. Neither could the lust, love, and desire be masked in his glassy hazel eyes. Arthur's eyes brazenly appraised Lovino's exotic olive skin, flawless and smooth like a modern Adonis, forever youthful and beautiful—at least to Arthur. His fingers reached for Lovino, brushing over his permanent mark on his skin, the pentacle over his heart, and Lovino watched him silently with a deep crimson flush on his cheeks.

The Englishman then took hold of his lover and pulled him closer and into his arms in a tight and heated embrace as a surge of pleasure ran up and down their spines from the immediate contact. Shortly recovering from the shock, Arthur pressed kiss after kiss against Lovino's tanned skin, not wasting any time with words, before locking their lips together. As he forced Lovino's swollen lips apart, mingling with that skilful tongue of his, Arthur could taste a slight bitterness in the Italian's mouth but didn't mind at all. While his lover was distracted, the blond pulled him onto his lap, closing the distance entirely and even more so when Lovino began stripping him of his clothing, and reached into the bedside drawer with his hand, clumsily and blindly searching for the insightful gift left behind by three of the Four Lords and Carriedo.

Once his hand fell upon the bottle of lubricant, he flicked the cap open and slicked the cool substance onto his fingers before prodding Lovino's entrance. The Italian noticeably squirmed, breaking off the kiss momentarily to adjust to the foreign invasion, before his eyes fell upon those of his lover. As soon as he processed the concern in those emeralds, he gave a weak but warm smile and pecked those pale lips adoringly, silently informing the blond that he was fine. With this new assurance, Arthur inserted another finger without further ado and began to scissor him gently, stretching Lovino until he was able to slip a third finger inside, thrusting them rhythmically in and out, deeper and deeper, until he was able to erect a wanton moan from those pouty lips, noticeably a few octaves higher than his usual voice, upon scraping his fingers against their dirty little secret that only Arthur had a privilege of knowing. The blond smiled, a part of him relieved that he was able to find Lovino's most pleasurable spot this time as well, before slicking more lubricant onto his throbbing member.

The Italian, who had been straddling his lover all this time, slid backwards and raised his hips, gently and slowly easing himself onto Arthur's cock with a breathy moan. He began rolling his hips, arching into Arthur's touches as the blond ran a hand up his back, and leaned closer to the blond to swallow his lips in another kiss. The Briton then reached for Lovino's own erected member, fondling him to ease such a painful pleasure, as the brunet continued grinding and grounding together with Arthur in an even more passionate dance than the ballroom waltz from earlier.

Of course, Arthur couldn't stand being submissive so much any longer than that and unceremoniously reversed their positions, pulling Lovino to his chest and flipping them around so that the Italian was now on his back, throwing his lover onto the mattress. Lovino glared indignantly at Arthur before his anger was pacified immediately with just one more kiss. It definitely wouldn't be the last one; the both of them knew that—especially when Arthur began marking his olive skin again, bruising his supple flesh black and blue.

Building the pace, Arthur slid even more deeper and thrust deeply into his lover, increasing the rhythm into something more wild and aggressive, more fervent and feverish and more heated than ever before. Lovino reached for Arthur, pulling their bodies closer in a tight embrace, as they danced together closer to the edge of a never-ending passion in an intense and inflamed rondo, and together they plummeted into the depths of ardour and ecstasy with bursts of blinding white.

Collapsing on top of his lover, Arthur rolled onto his side and gazed at Lovino adoringly as he parted the stray strands of hair that collected in front of his beautiful hazel eyes. He peered beyond the stained glass of amber and green to stare into the dancing brilliant blue flames of his soul. "Absolutely beautiful," Arthur whispered underneath his breath, pressing yet another kiss on top of Lovino's forehead.

"I'm not going to be with you until death do us part," Lovino grumbled, pulling the covers up to his face to cover his cheeks. He glared at Arthur pointedly, unaware that his words had entirely crumbled the Englishman.

"I... I beg your pardon?"

Lovino flushed deeply, the heat spreading from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, as he explained himself, "I don't want even death to separate us, dammit, you dumb bastard. We promised, didn't we? That we would stay together forever and ever? Well, if I'm going to marry you, then we're going to be together forever and always, capito?" He rested his hand against Arthur's matching pentacle underneath the covers. "Even beyond this damn magic circle, even without the damn rings, even without the damn vows or those three words that are so fucking hard to say, we'll always be together forever."

A deliriously happy smile stretched itself onto Arthur's lips, curved upwards permanently in delight and euphoria, before he embraced Lovino yet again, pressing him closely to his chest. "All right," he promised, "even beyond death and beyond all ceremonies and vows, I will love you forever and always, Lovino Vargas. Always know and remember that, eh? Anyway, it doesn't have to be now, but will you marry me?"

Lovino nodded against Arthur's chest, muttered, "I will, you fucking devil."

Arthur smiled into Lovino's hair, whispering, "Then it all works out just fine in the end." He reached for his coat on the floor and dug into the pockets for the velvet box. Tossing aside his coat, he propped open the box and slipped the platinum band onto Lovino's finger, chirping, "I almost forgot."

"You damn spacey bastard."

"You rude little prat."

"You still fucking love me, dammit."

"That I bloody do—no matter how insufferable you may be."

"Fuck you."

"Already did, my little spitfire—already did."

A/N: This is the end of Sympathy for the Devil. The title of this story is actually based off a Rolling Stones song with the same name even though the story itself doesn't have much to do with the song.

For some reason, I get the feeling that Arthur came out more kuudere than tsundere in this story, which is more of a nyo!England sort of personality. Well, it didn't turn out too badly, I suppose, since it suits a supposedly cold-hearted Demon King, but we all know that's not true of our King Arthur, right?

This universe actually took about four years to construct with the mythology and all. I've never done too well with fantasy/supernatural, so it takes a while for me to plan and think out all of the loops and circles. This story wasn't even in my mind four years ago though, so it was more of a plot thrown into a universe. Speaking of which, I'm not completely through with the universe. Since it took quite a bit of planning, I was thinking of playing with the Otherside a little more and exploring some more potentials and possibilities. There's still plenty I haven't addressed from the real identity of the Emperor to the members of Ivan's Vampire Coven! And what's this "Twenty-Four Knights" that Julchen mentioned above? At any rate, it's quite a big universe... In other words, there might be a sequel to look forward to seeing. I mean, I've tried tying up the ending, but there are a few knots and tangles left loose and hanging for open interpretations... you know, until further notice. In a theoretical or prospective sequel, these kinds of endings are neatly fixed and cleared. We'll see.

I just want to say a quick little thank you to everyone who added this story to their favourites or followed or reviewed. It really is an honour to hear from everyone! Sometimes, when writing this, I feel like I've stepped on someone's religion with Arthur being the "Devil" and whatnot... I really had no intentions of offending anyone though as this story is really entertainment based off fancy and imagination and a lot of research, so every little bit of support or praise or criticism completely improved my self-esteem and confidence. It really made me happy and brought a smile to my face in numerous occasions!

Well, there's no sense in making this a speech as though I've won an Oscar or a Grammy or Emmy or whatever. If you're still reading this, I just really want you to know that I'm really touched that you've stuck with this story this long. For now, this is it... Until next time then!