There were so many people! And they all looked so similar! How did they ever tell each other apart? It baffled him. They none had any distinctive markings, or if they did, kept them covered. What was the point of that? He thought it would have been easier to tell them apart if they didn't bother with clothes. Besides, why would anyone want to be clothed? Dirty, smelly, itchy fabric. It was so uncomfortable that he almost didn't know what to do with himself.

Stripping down was the obvious solution, but he knew better than to think the people would be okay with that. Even though he was pretty confident that his body was physically appealing. However, attracting a lot of attention wasn't something he meant to do, especially on his first visit to the village. Since he'd only recently moved into the area, familiarizing himself with the settlements near his new home was not optional. It was required, so there he was, in horrid, uncomfortable clothes, wandering through a village he had yet to hear the name of.

People he didn't know made their slow way along the streets, and he followed a few into a large market where they wandered from stall to stall to see what was being sold. He was insanely curious and didn't hesitate to peer around others to see, as well. Food, trinkets, jewelry, cloth, medicines and tonics, house wares, everything. It was all so fascinating, and he itched to buy it all, but he had no money, and nothing to sell. Next time he visited, he would bring a purse, and gold. Enough to buy whatever he wanted.

For now, though, he forced himself to be content with just looking, and it was as he was passing a stall selling polished mirrors that he caught sight of his reflection. He didn't realize who it was a first, but he quickly became enthralled with himself. Yes, he was very handsome, as far as people went, which was no surprise. He'd always been strong and taken good care of himself. Still, this was unusual. Ashen blond hair was parted back from his face, and there was a small piece that stuck up and curled back—looking at it made him chuckle. And his eyes. They didn't look like anyone else's eyes, not that he'd ever seen. A familiar blue practically glowed in his irises, and his pupils…hm. They weren't quite round. He was going to have to work on that.

All-in-all, though, he'd turned out rather well. He made a good man.

"Make way!" a voice suddenly shouted over the chatter of the marketplace, drawing his attention from himself. "Make way for the Princes!"

Heads turned and people immediately began to move as a group of six horses and several foot guards in expensive-looking livery and armor approached. He didn't pay much attention to the guards, but he was very interested in the riders, if they were indeed Princes. The first and last were simple guards, carrying banners decorated with wyverns.

He had to crinkle his nose. Wyverns? Sly, clever tricksters. Cowards. Why would anyone want to carry them on their banners and shields? It made no sense to him, but his attention was soon redirected to the other three riders. Perfect posture as they rode, confident, aloof expressions, expensive tunics and robes, hands heavy with rings, and a crown upon each head. These were the Princes of the Kingdom.

The first three, all redheads, rode side-by-side, the oldest two both about twenty years, and the younger only a couple behind, eighteen or so. They had fierce, thick eyebrows and green eyes set in pale faces, and carried themselves with all the pride a Prince should have.

Standing with the villagers, he watched them ride by then turned his gaze on the fourth Prince. Creases appeared on his forehead and he tilted his head to the side as he examined the youngest of the four.

Thick eyebrows like his brothers', and green eyes, but his hair was gold instead of fire, and he had a softer face, though that may have been due to his youth. This Prince seemed barely old enough to be considered a man, and he looked bored compared to his siblings. His robes weren't quite as rich or as vividly colored, and he wore only one ring, as well as a simple silver circlet over his unruly locks. There were freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks.

He stared as the youngest Prince, riding a little behind his brothers, came closer then passed by—suddenly, green eyes were on him, and the blond reined in his horse. The two looked at each other for several moments, until the guards and older two Princes realized their companion had fallen behind.

"My Prince?" The guards were concerned and seemed to be considering if they should treat him as a threat or not.

The blond didn't respond to them. "What's your name?" he asked, lifting his chin just slightly to give a glimpse of a milky pale throat.

It took a second for him to gather his thoughts enough to answer. "Alfred, your Highness," he introduced himself, bowing slightly, though he didn't look away from the Prince's face.

"You have strange eyes, Alfred."

That put a smile on his face, though he didn't have a chance to say anything else before the oldest Prince interrupted.

"Arthur," his tone was lazily scolding, and it put a deadpan look into the blond's eyes, "leave that man alone. Father is expecting us."

Alfred bowed again, lower this time. "I hope to see you again soon, Prince Arthur." He didn't try to keep the suggestive edge off his tone.

Surprise flashed across the young Prince's face, though he was quick to cover it up with a careful amount of disdain, and looked away. "Don't hold your breath." Then he nudged his horse forward and rode away without a backwards glance.

As the Princes and their escort moved on and eventually vanished from sight, the villagers went back to their buying and selling, and Alfred soon found that he was the only one who hadn't moved. How could he? The only place he wanted to go was in the direction the Princes had gone. He wanted to talk to Arthur. Doing so could get him into trouble, however, so he remained where he was.

"Sir? Are you all right?"

Drawn out of his thoughts, Alfred blinked a few times then looked at the man who'd spoken to him. He was a blond, with slightly long hair and a wayward curl, and blue-violet eyes behind a pair of glasses. He looked nice, and Alfred decided he'd remember to tell him apart from all the other people he'd seen today.

"Yes, I'm fine." Absently, he looked back after the Princes.

"Impressive, aren't they," the stranger commented, following Alfred's gaze. "They pass through most days, but I've never seen Prince Arthur stop to talk to someone before."

A ghost of a smile crossed Alfred's face. "Interesting." His companion looked at him for a moment.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Alfred smiled at him. "Never better." Another glance after the Princes left him with a sense of determination. "Say, where did you buy your glasses? I'm Alfred, by the way."

Surprised by the sudden change in topic, the other man's eyebrows quirked. "The glass-mason's shop."

"Thank you," Alfred paused, still looking at the blond.

"…Matthew," he supplied, then smiled shyly.

"Matthew. Would you show me where the glass-mason lives?" Glasses would be an interesting thing to try, at least until he got his eyes sorted out. Besides, as handsome as he knew he was considered to be, he wanted to see what he could do to manipulate his appearance.

"Of course. One moment, please." Matthew turned and vanished into the crowd milling about the marketplace, leaving Alfred to wait for him. A few minutes passed, then the blond reappeared, a sack over one shoulder and a rope in his hand, leading back to…

"I didn't know there were bears in this area."

Matthew smiled and rubbed the bear's head affectionately. "There aren't, but I'm not from here, either. Kuma and I are from the North."

Well, he'd found an interesting human to befriend. Good. He didn't want boring companions.

Together, the two men and the bear began to weave through the other villagers until they'd made it out of the marketplace. Only when they were free of the crowd and would easily be able to hear each other did Alfred decide to strike up a conversation.

"Where in the North are you from?" he asked, curious because he'd spent quite some time in the colder regions of the world, but he'd never seen a bear as white as Matthew's Kuma.

"The Far Ice," Matthew responded with a small smile. "Where half the year is night, and half of it is day. There are many bears there, white to blend in with the snow, and fierce hunters. Most Far Ice men keep dogs, but I have Kuma. I was a boy when my father killed his mother while hunting, and gave him to me as a cub, to keep and raise. He's my best friend." The blond's smile widened slightly and he set a hand on the bear's shoulder, lightly gripping the white fur.

Alfred couldn't have been more fascinated by the story. "Why did you come here?"

"Keeping Kuma safe from hunters is easier when people see him as a valued pet rather than a threat or game."

He'd travelled all this way just to protect his bear? He seemed a perfect example of how dedicated humans could be, and Alfred didn't try to hide that he was impressed. "He's lucky to have you."

"We're lucky to have each other."

The two looked in time for their eyes to meet, and smiled, continuing on their way to the glass-mason's as Kuma followed along.

X

Boring, boring, boring. Really, he couldn't stand any of this state's business and whatnot. It was a job for his father and his advisors, not him, a Prince with better things to do with his time. He could be practicing his archery, or studying the scrolls in the library, or out for a ride. Anything would be better than sitting here listening to dusty old men discuss dusty old problems about feuding villagers and crop taxes. None of it mattered to him in the slightest, yet there he was, sitting beside his brothers while the King and his council droned on and on.

They were required to come to these meetings, to learn what responsibilities they would have to shoulder one day, as Princes and when Seamus took the throne from their father. Arthur honestly didn't understand why he was forced to be there. He was the fourth son. He would never have enough power to have these responsibilities.

Fourth son of the King, fourth heir to the throne, fourth Prince of the Kingdom who would amount to nothing but a Duke or Lord with some pitiful spit of land on the Northern shore because his brothers would never give him more than that. All he had to look forward to was an arranged marriage to some woman he had yet to meet and being more or less excommunicated by the three redheads sitting to his left.

Idiots, all of them.

Well, he said so, but he knew they weren't. Seamus was brilliant, and a fierce warrior, as was Allistor. Dylan was quieter than the older two, but still an excellent swordsman. They each had proven themselves on the field and in the courts held by their father. It was a lot to live up to, and Arthur had no intention of doing so. Not for him, no thank you.

Sighing, Arthur leaned against the armrest of his chair and propped his chin in his hand, looking exceptionally bored. This was going to last for at least another hour, and in that time he could have read at least another book, or taken a bath, perhaps both. Yes, a nice, long, hot bath, with candles, and scented soaps from the kingdoms to the east, and he'd have the servants bring in one of those polished brass tables that hung on the side of the tub, so he could have some wine and a book, perhaps a biscuit while he soaked so that his skin would be softer than silk.

Lovely, the blond thought dreamily, a vague smile lifting the corners of his mouth. That was exactly what he was going to do once they were dismissed.

"Arthur," a low whisper interrupted his thoughts, and an elbow nudged into his side, "pay attention."

Annoyed now, Arthur shot a dirty look at his brother but did as he was told, sitting up straighter and directing his gaze at his father. King Raolin was an intimidating man, with broad shoulders, strong features, and thick, fiery red hair that fell to his shoulders. It was easy to see where the three older Princes got their looks from, though they still kept their hair short and wouldn't allow it to grow out until they'd taken wives. He'd gotten his looks from his mother, though he had his father's eyes. That was just about all he would inherit from him.

"We've had troubling reports from farms near the Teeth, Sire," one of the advisor's was speaking and so had all of the King's attention. "There are rumors in the market that a dragon's been spotted."

Dragon?

That made Arthur sit up a little more in his chair and listen much more closely. A dragon, here? On their island? It was almost unheard of.

King Raolin was just as interested as his youngest son. "Where?"

"Flying over the southern tail of the mountain range. Most of the information is mere gossip, but the more dependable sources claim it's relatively small, for a dragon, and nearly invisible against the sky thanks to its blue hide."

"It must be young," the King mused, sitting back in his throne and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Has it attacked anyone?"

"No, Sire, not that we know of," another advisor answered him, and Raolin nodded.

"Good. Keep me informed should you hear anything more. A dragon is troubling news, though it may only be passing through, as we should hope for."

Respectfully, each advisor ducked their heads and bowed. "Yes, Sire."

Once they'd all straightened again, King Raolin stood. "That's enough for today." Sweeping his robes along, he turned and made for a door in the side wall as the advisors began to gather up their scrolls and books, all the papers they'd used during their meeting with the King. Arthur was on his feet before the door had even closed behind his father.

Time for his bath, and he knew just what sort of book he wanted to read while he soaked. If a dragon had been sighted over the Teeth, then he wanted to know as much about the creature as the royal library could tell him. It would probably going to take him all night to do the research, but that was all right. He rather enjoyed reading at night when no one would interrupt him.

With that single purpose in mind, the blond left his brothers behind as he moved towards the hall's main door, only to be called after.

"Say, Arthur, what's your hurry?"

The blond stopped, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling as he breathed out a curse. What the hell did they want now? But he fixed a neutral expression in place before he turned, and spoke politely. "I'm in need of a bath, and I'd like to do some reading about dragons. Those rumors have me curious."

Flanked by Allistor and Dylan, Seamus came closer to his youngest brother, an irritating grin pulling at his mouth. "Always the scholar, aren't we."

"You'd do better to go practice your swordsmanship," Allistor commented, shoulders held crookedly and his head tilted off to one side. "You'll need it, if that dragon decides to head this way."

Dylan chuckled suddenly, gaining the attention of the other three, then smiled and shook his head. "Sorry, I was just thinking, with all these baths you're always taking, Arthur, that the dragon might smell you and mistake you for a princess. It'd be a shame if he kidnapped you."

That had Arthur's cheeks reddening, and he fought back a glare. "I'd rather that than smell like a horse."

"Yes, we know," Allistor was on the verge of laughing, "but if you're not careful, princes from other kingdoms will ask Father for your hand in marriage before he can find you a bride!" All three of the redheads burst into laughter, and Arthur knew his face was flaming with embarrassment and anger.

Between laughs and gasps for air, Seamus managed to look at the blond. "Who was that you were talking to in the market today?" he asked, an arm on Allistor's shoulder for support. "I hope it wasn't some poor peasant you've convinced to share your bed. No one deserves that punishment!" Another round of laughter had them doubling over, and Arthur sneered as best he could.

"At least there would be someone warming my bed," he hissed, and they took a moment to catch their breath while they waited to hear what he had to say. "You lot couldn't get a starving barmaid to spread her legs for you, not with all the gold in the treasury."

"Oh, she'd spread her legs, all right, for no gold at all." Wiping at his eye, Seamus put on a smirk he was gaining a reputation for amongst the servants. "My worry, little brother, is that you're probably spreading yours."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, anything, to refute that, but nothing came to mind. So he snapped his teeth together, glared, and, turning on his heel, stalked off, his spine straight and shoulders stiff as his grinning brothers watched him leave. It wasn't until he was sure he was out of their sight that he let himself relax, and then his shoulders sagged, and he slouched more than any Prince ever should as he stood in an out-of-the way corner where he wouldn't be noticed. Dealing with them was always so tiring, and now he wanted that bath more than ever. Soaking in hot water was the perfect way to rid himself of this sort of tension, and he didn't care that his brothers thought he smelled like a girl. There was nothing wrong with being clean.

But the jokes about who he slept with always got to him, even though he'd never….it wasn't like he'd said anything…

Under his breath, the blond Prince cursed them and himself. This was pointless. He really shouldn't let them get under his skin so easily. He should be used to it by now, and he was, mostly, just not when it came to them digging at what they thought he did behind closed doors. And it wasn't that he'd ever slept with a man; he'd never bedded or been bedded by a man, though there were a few maids working in the castle that he'd seduced just to prove to his brothers that he could. He hadn't liked it, but that still wasn't enough of a reason for them to accuse him of spreading his legs for a stranger in the marketplace.

Even thinking about it made him feel sick.

No, don't let them do this to you. Ignore them. They're idiots and nothing more.

In an attempt to shake off his shame and embarrassment, Arthur took a breath and regained his posture, then stepped back into the light of the hall and continued on his way to his rooms. Who cared what his brothers thought, anyway? Not him, and he would prove it. He was going to take the most luxurious bath of his life, and he'd smell like a field of wildflowers if he wanted to, and then they'd see how much their opinions mattered to him.