WARNING: Long ass chapter…

WARNING #2: Author of story cried like a damn fucking baby in 2 scenes of chapter. BRING OUT THE TISSUES; FEELINGS WILL COME OUT OF NOWHERE! Tis some heavy shit in this one…

This chapter is mostly an Arthur chapter, there's Matthew/Arthur interactions for most of it, a little bit of USUK through in there, but this will probably be the conclusion to both the Summer Music Festival and Arthur's past. Then we can move on to regularly schedule programming.

Also there's another song in this chapter that has flashback scenes between the lyrics, the lyrics will be centered, as they typically are, and the flashbacks will be italicized as always, jut left-aligned like normal so please don't be confused. It's a BIG italicized section of this chapter.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

The next morning, Princess Arthur awoke to pain in his neck, back and buttocks. Groggily, the princess opened his eyes, which also hurt, probably from so much crying the night before. He blinked and looked around the room, his room; the room, that from the age of nine, was his home. He placed a hand on the door and heaved himself up onto his feet, using his hands afterwards to smooth out the skirt of his dress. He rubbed his hands together and walked towards the window. His room had a view of the garden down below. The roses were in bloom and the garden was covered in colors.

A knock sounded from the door and Arthur re-directed his attention to the door. After no response a knock was heard again. "A-Arthur?" Came the quiet voice after. It was Matthew. "A-are you awake?"

Arthur swallowed. "Yeah…" His voice sounded hoarse and the princess cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah, I-I'm coming." He responded as he went to the door and opened it.

Standing in the hallway was the new queen-to-be Matthew, wearing a simple blue high-low, capped-sleeves dress with flower designs on the edges of the skirt and neck. "Good morning." Matthew greeted. Arthur nodded. "I, uh, was wondering if you… wanted to enjoy the festival with me?"

"Why can't Gilbert go with you? Or your family?"

"Uh, Gil and Francis are going hunting and father is joining them. Mother is remaining by Alfie's side today…" There was a pause as both thought about the injured Alfred. "Plus I figured that a little bit of fresh air would help us both."

Arthur looked up at the ceiling briefly with a soft sigh. "Well… there is that dance event going on that would be fun to see…"

Matthew smiled. "Dancing? I don't really like dancing much, but I like watching."

Arthur smiled faintly at Matthew. "It's fun. It's traditional dancing from the kingdom."

"Sounds great!"

"Oh, but," the princess glanced down at his clothing. "I would need to change first."

"Oh, yes, of course! Do you—"

"I can manage on my own, Matthew, thanks." Arthur said quickly, surprising Matthew. Seeing the boygi's shocked face, Arthur quickly added, "I'm just really particular and this is one of the few things I can get away with. When you become queen you'll know what I'm talking about."

With that Matthew blushed and looked down at his feet. "I-I kind of get it…"

The princess laughed gently. "Go on and wait in the main parlor on the first floor. I'll be there shortly."

"Of course, Princess Arthur. I'll be waiting patiently." With that Matthew gave a wave and proceeded down the hallway.

Arthur gave a small wave back and closed the door. With another sigh he turned towards his closet and proceeded to pick a white floor length, but thin material dress which had tulle ruffles at the bottom, a small train following behind, lace on the bodice and green ribbon to tie back the corset and to decorate the front. It was, of course, long-sleeved with ruffles on the sleeves, and it covered everything, save for a small patch of skin right below the neck.

He placed the white dress on the bed and began to undo the current dress he was wearing. Untying the corset was difficult, but Arthur managed and the dress slipped onto the floor after a couple moments. He stepped out and picked up the dress, tossing it on the bed as well. He looked at his body and sighed. "Maybe I should wipe down at least…" He proceeded to the bathing area behind a screen and picked up a cloth. Using the basin, he soaked the cloth and rubbed the soap bar on it, creating a fine lather. He scrubbed his body down once, before he rinsed the soap off in the basin and washed himself off.

Satisfied he returned to the bed and stepped into the new dress, having difficulty again with the corset. But he managed once more, just as he always has, and sprayed himself with perfume. He didn't bother with his hair. Ever since he cut it short from the twin ponytails that hugged the sides of his head, it has always been unruly. Not that he minded.

Arthur eventually left his room, feeling fresh and anew, and met up with Matthew, who as he said, was waiting patiently in the main parlor on the first floor.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

The festival was in full swing once more, the events of the first day of the festival either long forgotten or ignored. Vendors were selling their goods and wares; music was filling every orifice of the Central Kingdom's passageways. Despite what happened yesterday, the Music Festival always made Arthur feel better even when he was feeling dejected. This day was no different as he and Matthew walked arm in arm down every street. They looked like old friends, and many passerby's looked in awe and shock to see their Princess Arthur looking so at home with someone else.

But to Arthur, Matthew was just that, even though they didn't know each other long. Matthew was just so kind and inviting, it was hard not to become friends with him. And it was that kind-hearted nature that made Arthur want to change. He's always been a cold individual what with his upbringing and his distrust of people in general. But Matthew Williams had a way of changing people from their usual personality types. He was able to change Crown Prince Gilbert and himself. Princess Arthur could only wonder whom else Matthew will change.

"Arthur look!" Matthew sounded. He pointed to a big square that had a large maypole in the center with several smaller maypoles around that one. An audience was beginning to go around the area. A show was about to begin. "I love maypoles, have you ever participated in one?"

"I can say not." Arthur responded, intrigued at the boygi's sudden excitement.

"Maybe they'll do demonstrations and lessons after. Let's go watch!" Matthew remarked as he pulled the princess forward.

They managed to persuade their way to the front of the crowds, getting a front row seat. From this vantage point they noticed that the dancers were all wearing the same clothing. The women were wearing an ankle length, peach colored dress with a large sash coming around their waists, a huge bow tied on the back with the tails hanging down. The men wore white shirts with black loose pants, a peach colored sash around their waists as well, the tails of the sash hanging off on their right hips.

The dancers got into position and grabbed their respective ribbons. The beats of joyful and energetic music was being played and the dancers began their routine, masterfully going around the poles in sync, tying their ribbons around the pole.

"I recognize this tune." Arthur said as he looked to Matthew. "It's called Siamsa*. It's a good, lively, festival song."

The tune changed to something more relaxed and the dancers turned around, undoing their tie, each masterfully doing the same movements they did forward, now in reverse to undo all the ribbons from each other.

The music changed once more, and every other dancer handed their ribbon to the other while they came out and danced with each other, one man to one woman, now doing a tradition step dancing while some dancers held the ribbon.

When it changed once more the dancers changed position, those hold the ribbons now were up to dance, now dancing to a romantic, waltz type dance, that still held the same energy as the first tune. It was beautiful to watch how in unison they were.

The music changed once more, this time to a much slower, more rounded beat, as all the dancers came up and made circles around the maypoles. They interlocked arms with waists, their backs turned to their audience as they circled around the maypoles together. When the music quickened, the women lifted their feet up behind them, crossing their ankles, while the men held them up as they continued to go around the poles. The music then sounded like it was coming to an end, the women's feet hit the floor and fluidly the circles broke up and form a larger circle; the dancers then turning around quickly and posing just as the music ended in a flourish.

The audience applauded and the dancers bowed. Some were already heading to the audience, arm back in the direction of the maypoles. Matthew gasped softly. "They are teaching! Come, Arthur. It'll be fun."

"Matthew, I really don't think—"

"Oh, come on." Matthew smiled brightly at him. "It'll be fun." He repeated again as he pulled Arthur towards two paired up dancers, who were more than willing to teach the Princess of the Central Kingdom how to dance with a maypole.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

The two boygies were laughing and hanging onto each other after the dance lessons were over. They walked through the crowds, more people staring after their joyful princess and his friend. They were hot, slightly sweaty, but they had fun. They clambered over to a booth selling lemonades and teas. "You were right Matthew. Maypoles are fun." Arthur said to Matthew as he uncharacteristically ordered lemonade instead of a tea.

"I told you. When I became a boygi, maypole dancing was one of the lessons I actually enjoyed." Matthew went to pay for the both of them when Arthur stopped them.

"Please, I'll pay."

"No need." The booth keeper said as he handed them both their lemonades. "For the princess and his friend, it's free." The keeper winked with a large smile.

The two boygies laughed. "Well, thank you sir." Matthew thanked as the two walked away.

"I do keep forgetting that you weren't always a boygi." Arthur stated, going back to the conversation. "You must have hated Alfred…"

"Not really…" Matthew responded quickly. "I mean, I was still young and papa was teaching me boygi stuff anyways when he had free time. He likes to teach. I'm sure if he weren't a merchant he'd be a teacher."

"I can see that." Arthur said. "But still… don't you miss being more like a man and less like a woman?"

"Again, I was young. And I didn't mind. Especially when I saw how happy it made mother."

"Mrs. Jones?"

"Hm-hmm."

One midsummers day, a young Matthew and a newly-wedded Mrs. Jones, went out for a day in the market. Matthew, wearing pants and a plain shirt, looked shy and nervous as they walked down the street towards the boutique.

It's the last day for the child to wear such things ever again.

Mrs. Jones sighed, for what was like the hundredth time, as they stood before the boutique's door. "Now, Matthew my boy, I know this will be difficult. And I know that this might be weird at first but I'll help you get through this transition. I just hope you don't hate us…"

"Hate you?" Young Matthew stared up at his new mother, eyes blinking quickly in the sun. "Why would I hate you?"

"F-for my son being just slightly older than you. For turning you into a boygi…"

Matthew shook his head quickly; his blonde curls smacking his face. "No, I… I can't be mad. You make papa happy, and Alfie also makes papa happy, so I don't mind. Plus like papa told me—it's the law!" Matthew said with enthusiasm in the end, a wide smile on his face.

His new mother sighed yet again, a tear escaping from her eye. She quickly wiped it away, hoping the child didn't notice. He didn't. "Alright then! L-Let's go inside!"

They stepped inside and were welcomed by a melody of voices, male and female both. "Hello!" "Welcome!" "Welcome to the Garden Beauty Boutique." "Hello."

The two both nodded and a boygi, one with long, curly red hair, wearing a plain yellow dress with lace, walked up to them. "How may I help you today?"

"My son here just became a boygi a week or so. We're here to get his first set of dresses." Mrs. Jones responded.

"Of course!" Getting eye level with Matthew, the store employee smiled fondly at him. "Let's get you sized first okay?"

Matthew only nodded before he was lead into a back room, Mrs. Jones behind him.

After many hours, Matthew was placed in his first ever dress; a tea length, tan colored dress, with minimal lacing on the edges, with some scattered floral lace designs on the skirt, the neckline being more rounded. "There." The store employee stated.

"It's a bit plain is it not?" Mrs. Jones asked.

"This is the typical design for boygies that weren't born boygies. Don't want to shock the lads too much." Mrs. Jones made a sound of understanding. "Though if you'd like to see Matthew in something a bit more embellished…"

"Just to see. And I would probably want to order some dresses to be made for him."

"Of course ma'am. I shall be back."

As the employee left the room, the door closing behind him, Mrs. Jones knelt on the floor behind Matthew and the small pedestal he was standing on. She placed her hands gently on his shoulders. "What do you think?" She asked softly after a couple moments.

"Hmm…" Matthew sounded as he half turned, his eyes on the mirrors before him. "I-It's not bad… weird…"

"I figured it would be…" She sighed as she took her hands off his shoulders and rested them on her lap. "This won't be easy at all for you I feel."

Matthew turned to face her. "I won't complain, mother."

"I know you won't sweetheart," Mrs. Jones began, raising a hand to cup the side of Matthew's face, "I just… honestly? Honestly I'm so happy to have a boygi… I always wanted a daughter, but after my pregnancy with Alfie and the complications I had giving birth to him… I can never have children again and… despite you not being a girl, and I know you're being forced into this I… I can't help but feel happy…" Tears slipped from her eyes again and she moved to wipe them when Matthew beat her to it.

Mrs. Jones' eyes widened as she looked into Matthew's brilliant purple eyes, those eyes also beginning to water. "It's alright momma." Matthew said gently, a smile forming on his face. "I'll be your daughter… even if I am a boy." He grinned then. "Besides! I have a momma again! And a brother now! I'm happy!"

The tears fell harder and the sobs shook Mrs. Jones' frame. She pulled her new son into a warm hug, a hand rubbing his back. "Thank you, you sweet child. You beautiful, sweet, child…"

A knock sounded and the door opened slightly to reveal the employee with dresses thrown over his arm. "I'm back—oh… I'm sorry. Is… is everything alright?" He continued into the room, closing the door behind him once more.

"Yes." Mrs. Jones laughed softly as she wiped her tears and pulled away from Matthew. "I see you brought more options." She said then, her emotions doing a one-eighty as her smile matched her son's.

"Uh… yes, I… I brought one with plenty of lace, one with a bigger skirt, and another that is really too much. Hoop skirt, pounds of fabric and ribbon and lace… it is more ballroom material really."

"Hm." Mrs. Jones hummed. She glanced at Matthew and he glanced at her. "Which one would you like to try on first?"

"Hmm…" Matthew sounded, cutely putting a finger to his lips in thought. "The last one!" He sounded with a grin.

"Oh. Really?" The employee asked.

"Hm-hmm!" Matthew nodded quickly. "Because it'll make momma happy!"

Mrs. Jones chuckled and blinked back tears of happiness.

The boygi employee placed a hand on his chest. "Aw. Precious. He'll be a perfect boygi…" Reconstituting himself he slipped back into employee mode. "Well then, let's get started."

"And that was my first fitting." Matthew said as he finished retelling the story to Arthur.

"You were so cute."

"'Were'?"

The two giggled together. "If only my family was like that…" Arthur said softly to himself as he drank more lemonade.

Matthew stopped mid sip and placed the cup of lemonade down on the table they were now sitting at. "Arthur? May I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Now, please don't get too mad, or react to hastily, but, are you going to visit your brothers before they're executed?"

Arthur stopped mid sip as well and opted to look down the cup of the liquid. He thought for a moment before placing the drink down. "Honestly, I was thinking about it last night, and even dreamt about it."

"And?"

"On one hand, I want to. At least Dylan… he seemed to really want to apologize to me." Matthew only nodded as he waited for Arthur to continue. "But at the same time I feel like I don't owe them anything. Not for what they did to me." The princess looked at the other boygi then, eyes hard and stern.

"That is true, but, like Gil said, aren't you afraid that you're going to regret it?"

Arthur took a deep breath in. "Trust me I know… but I… I don't want to go by myself… my dreams… they weren't pleasant."

"I'll go with you." Matthew said quickly.

Arthur looked in shock at him. "You can't be serious."

"I am. I'll go with you."

"But what would Alfred say?"

"What does he have to do with it?"

"He's your brother, and he got hurt, and I almost got killed—"

"My brother would not want you to live the rest of your life with him in regret for not seeing your true brothers before they died."

"… That is true—what wait? With him?"

Matthew stood up then, big smile on his face. "Let's go now. If we just pop in there, hear the apology and then leave, we can catch up with Gil and the others as they returned from hunting. And we can see Al, tell him how it went."

"Gilbert!" Arthur said loudly as he stood quickly. "What would he say about you seeing my disastrous brothers?"

Matthew leaned over the table towards Arthur. "He'd say 'I'm thankful you went with him Birdie so he doesn't regret this. He's so stubborn kesesese.'"

Arthur stared at Matthew before bursting into laughter. "That was so spot on!"

Matthew laughed with Arthur and when the laughter stopped he extended his hand towards the princess boygi. "What do you say? Shall we go visit them?"

Arthur stared at the extended hand and then back to Matthew. Slowly he put his hand in Matthew's and the two went, arm in arm, towards the jail where the two Kirkland brothers were being held.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

"Princess Arthur, allow us to accompany you to their cells." Two guards in armor said after Arthur said his piece.

"If you'd like… And cells?"

"Yes, one of them, the eldest, was very violent. We had to put him in an isolation cell in the lower levels. The other is in the regular wards."

The princess nodded and looked to Matthew. "Which one first?"

"Let's get he most difficult one out of the way, I suppose."

Arthur nodded and looked back to the guards. "Take me to Alastair… I suppose…"

"Yes, Your Highness."

The four began to walk down the corridors, one guard in front, one behind them, Matthew and Arthur still arm in arm as they looked at all the criminals they walked by, their grips on each other tightening as they went lower, the criminals got louder and more dangerous, and the air became more stale. They finally stopped before a solid rock door, an opening at eye level to see into the cell, and one below to allow food in. The guard in front opened the eye level slab first, looking inside to check for anything that might compromise his princess. "All clear." He responded as he stepped aside. Both guards were now on either side of the locked door, though they were still on high alert, hands on their weapons, ready to draw at any moment.

Arthur took a deep breath in, holding it before releasing it slowly. Matthew gave a reassuring back rub as he detached himself from the princess and gave him a gentle push forward. The princess walked forward slowly, the events of his horrible nightmares last night running through his head. He shook his head quickly to shake such thoughts, but they came rushing back as he placed his shaking hands on the door for balance. Standing slightly on his toes, the princess peered inside the opening in this door and saw no one in the room. Leaning in more, Arthur had begun to think that perhaps his brother was sleeping or ignoring him.

"Boo!" Came the sound as well as a pair of evil looking eyes that looked too much like Arthur's own.

Arthur screamed and pushed himself off the door and into Matthew who caught him steadily and was somehow able to prevent himself from falling. The guards moved to the door and began to threaten the prisoner to move away from the door, Alastair's laughter ringing in Arthur's ears.

Arthur was trembling like the earth shakes as Matthew held him. "Fuckin' wimp!" Alastair sounded through his laughter as he backed away from the door. "Yer always be such a tremblin' 'ittle git, Fucthur." Arthur closed his eyes and allowed the trembling to subdue and the guards now threatened Alastair for name-calling their princess. "Oi, 'eah tha's 'ight. Yer princess… Princess Fucthur!" Another howl of laughter from Alastair as the guards pounded on the door. "Ah, shut it ya tripes." Alastair spoke to the guards. "Na amount o' poundin' 'n' hollerin' gonna scare me. Ask yer princess 'ere how scary I can truly be."

"H-Hey you can't—"Matthew began before Arthur raised a hand, silencing Matthew.

"No. He's not your problem." Regaining his composure and straightening his posture, Arthur looked at the door. "He's mine." He began to walk forward. "Step aside."

The guards glanced back at their princess and hesitantly moved aside into their original positions. Arthur went up to the door and once again got on his toes to peer through the opening, this time not putting his hands on the door. He just stared into the opening, watching his eldest brother pace in the room until he finally stopped and looked through the opening, sending a shiver down the princess' spine. "Whadya want, princess?" Alastair asked with such hatred behind his voice.

Swallowing first, Arthur then spoke to his brother. "D-Dylan said both of you were coming to apologize. I just wanted to see you both before you died… so you can apologize."

"Fuck 'im." Alastair responded. "Fuck ya too, ya tosser." The guards were going to go after him again when Arthur held a hand up to stop them. "I ain't aplogizin'. I ain't done nuthin' I ain't sorry fer."

Arthur sighed, deciding quickly that Alastair was a waste of time for him. "That's fine. At least I gave you that chance." Falling back on feet he continued to look at his brother for a moment. "I want to apologize though."

That threw Alastair off as he looked to the sides of his cell before stepping forward to Arthur, eyes confused. "Fer what?" He asked, voice significantly less angry as confusion took over.

"For father hitting you after I took Peter and ran." Arthur paused to see if Alastair said anything back. After nothing he continued. "Father was poisonous. I'm sure he was the cause of all of our problems. I'll never forgive him for that, but I can forgive you for one thing."

"What?"

"For being so absent mindedly impressionable that you allowed father to take over your life."

"You 'ittle twat!" Alastair yelled as he charged the door.

This time Arthur was prepared and he took a step back. Alastair continued to yell, slurs, insults and curses coming out of his mouth in strings. Arthur smiled faintly, feeling some satisfaction for getting one insult in towards his eldest brother before he was executed. "You can close the slab. I'm done with him."

The guards followed the order and closed the opening. "You piece 'o' shite! Face me ya cowardly fucker! Ya twat, ya shite!" The yells were heard, though more significantly muffled.

"Enjoy isolation you shit." Arthur blinked as he turned his back to the door and released a shaky breath. "S-so onto the next?" He asked Matthew. Matthew only shrugged and gave a curt nod.

The four moved up onto the regular wards once more, the four moving in the same way they did when they went down to Alastair. They turned down a corner and went halfway down before the guards stopped before a cell. This one they weren't too concerned with as they stepped away from the barred cell and stood on the other side of the hall. Since the air tension wasn't as harsh, Matthew and Arthur separated as they reached the cell. Matthew stood slightly behind Arthur as approached the cell.

Dylan was sitting on a stone bench, curled up to himself, his face buried in his knees. Arthur went up to the bars, keeping a good space distance between him and the bars, and cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the elder brother. Dylan looked up, eyes confused at first, and then his eyes widened and a smile appeared when he realized it was Arthur. "Arthur!" Dylan exclaimed as he stood off the stone bench. "I… I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"You can thank my friend for that. He convinced me to come see you…" The princess responded, gestering behind him towards Matthew.

Dylan's eyes went towards Matthew and he nodded in his direction. "Thank you." Matthew nodded back, his voice trapped in his throat due to the awkwardness in the air. "You were there yesterday too, were you not?"

"Ah, y-yes." Matthew responded. "My, uh, brother is the one that got hurt."

"Ah, yes. I'm so sorry about that. How is the lad?" Dylan asked to no one in particular.

Arthur blinked and looked down to the stone floor. "I… actually haven't seen him today…"

"I did." Matthew said quickly. "This morning, before I got you. He was fine… just tired and needing rest. It was actually his idea for me to get you out of the castle."

"Good." Dylan responded. "T-To both. That the lad's fine and…" Looking to his younger brother he offered a polite smile. "And you getting' out. It's not healthy to remain indoor when… when someone close to you gets hurt."

"Ah, yes, 'cause you would know all about that." Arthur chided, his gaze sharp as he looked back at his brother.

Taken aback, Dylan swallowed, his smile twisting to a grimace. "I… L-Listen, Arthur I… I understand how you're feelin'. Honest. That's… I came back, knowing that I was riskin' my life comin' back, to apologize 'cause I do, truly, feel horrible 'ittle brother. I-I can't say much for father and Seamus and Alastair but, I…" Dylan sighed and half turned away from the bars. "I'm just tryin' to repent a 'ittle…"

"Repent?" Arthur asked, brows raising in a quizzical expression. "I don't ever remember you being religious in any way. Only mum was religious."

Dylan chuckled softly. "A newly acquired aspect of me you could say." With another sigh he looked back at Arthur. "I am truly sorry Arthur. I'm sorry for hurtin' ya 'n' allowing the others to continue on with their tortures. Fact is, your pain and sufferin' was all my fault."

"Your fault?" Arthur asked.

"Yea, um, well… I guess I can start off that I wasn't as brave as you." Dylan began, turning to face the bars fully again once more, closing the distance between him and the bars to place his hands on them and lean into them. The guards behind Arthur and Matthew leaned off the wall at the movement, weapons at the ready. Just because Dylan wasn't as dangerous as Alastair still didn't mean that they would let their guards down so easily.

"Mum offered me the same ultimatum she offered you with Peter." Dylan continued, ignoring the guards as best as he could as he delved into personal matters between him and his brother. "She came up to me, when she first found out she was pregnant with you, 'n' asked me to take you away, run away as fast as I could 'n' as far as I could." Arthur blinked, heart hammering in his chest as he listened. "I was a boygi too, for a while, it wasn't no couple months 'n' you were born kinda deal; I was a boygi for six years… I was tortured too…" Dylan closed his eyes and shook his head. "I was afraid; afraid I woulda been caught with you and hurt, or worse—killed, both of us… mum woulda been heart-broken to lose two sons in one day..."

"…When you were born, I almost went through with it, she offered you to me 'n' told me to run. But… I'm a coward. I told her to bugger off and then you became the boygi. 'N' for some fuckin' reason those damned blokes just ignored the fact I was ever a boygi 'n' started pickin' on you 'n'… 'n' me, I… I did what they did. To become one 'o' them. But they were much harsher on you that they ever were to me…" Dylan scoffed and shook his head, eyes looking in the distance. "Hell, what am I sayin'… we were harsher on you. I think it's because they knew… they knew mum tried savin' you—'n' me. I was the dumb fucker that didnae take a chance."

Dylan looked at Arthur then, eyes locking together. Alastair and Arthur shared the same eye color, Dylan however had a recessive gene, and had their grandma's eye color, a blue-gray color that in certain lights looked very light blue. Arthur got lost in them for a moment until Dylan spoke again. "So I'm sorry. I'm sorry your older brother is a cowardly prick that for fearin' for 'is own life damned yours 'n' fuckin' did the torturin' too, even though your dumbass brother also got the whip from our so-called father 'n' brothers." There was a moment of silence before Dylan roughly pushed himself off the bars and backed away towards the center of his cell. "I deserve ta die. If not for breakin' the exile, then for just bein' the most despicable human on Earth."

Silence fell upon the cellblock; the other prisoners also quiet after hearing the tale of the new prisoner and his relation to the princess. Matthew, while listening to the story, felt his stomach turn in knots, the wrenching tale making him feel uncomfortable. The guards, typically used to hearing confessions of crime, were breathing irregular. This was their princess that got abused and it was all because of the man in the cell. One, who sounded so incredibly sorry, it was almost hard for the man to remain in his cell.

Arthur on the other hand stood before him, hands as fists on his sides, his stomach in knots as well, and his eyes glued onto his older brother. That part of him that wanted to forgive Dylan grew, but at the same time Arthur began to hate the older man more; not because he was a coward and refused to run away like their mother had suggested, but it was more anger towards himself for being just like him.

"As much as I hate to say this aloud," the Princess of the Central Kingdom began, voice tense and thick as the anger reverberated in his voice, "I forgive you." All eyes looked to the princess as he continued. "I forgive you because I understand. I was in your position too. And damn our similarities I almost said fuck it too and almost didn't save Peter. I almost damned him like you damned me." A quick breath escaped Dylan as tears began to flow from his eyes. Arthur, upon seeing those tears, felt his own began to well up behind his eyes. "And I would have regretted it. 'Cause look at our brother now, Dylan…" At this point the tears blurred Arthur's vision as they pooled and then spilled from his eyes, his voice now wavering from the tears. "He's alive, and not damaged like me… he's a prince, in a lavish life with loving parents…" The two Kirkland brothers' sobs were echoing in the still quiet cellblock as Arthur continued. "I know you regret it… because I also remember… you weren't the worst… you hurt me… but you stopped. You always stopped."

"I'm so sorry Arthur…" Dylan sobbed. "I'm so sorry…" Arthur went up to the bars and placed his arms between them. Dylan laughed sadly and went up to Arthur, arms going through the bars as well to hug his younger sibling. "I'm sorry… I'm so fuckin' sorry…" Dylan continued before placing a kiss on the side of Arthur's head. "Thank you for forgiving me… thank you…"

Arthur gave a shaky sigh as he sniffed loudly. "Look at what you did you git… making me cry before everyone…"

Dylan laughed, sniffing as well. "I should say the same to you Artie… you wonderful brother you."

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

"I heard you did good at that competition."

"I always do good." Arthur said with pride. "I won again, as usual."

"That cockiness will get ya one day brother." Dylan said as he shook his head.

Since the day Dylan has apologized, Arthur has been going back to see his brother (only Dylan, he gave up on Alastair that day) as often as he could. By this point the guards left Arthur and his brother all by themselves, minus the other prisoners nearby of course. Currently the two were both sitting on the floor, back to back, with only the bars separating them.

"One day." Arthur agreed. "It was my pride that prevented me to find happiness."

"With that Alfred? Yea, I heard rumors that the princess of this kingdom was being a pain in the ass."

Arthur scoffed. "I wouldn't say pain in the ass… just—"

"Cold? Demeaning? Nose upturned? Prideful?"

"Shut up." Arthur as he pushed Dylan's shoulder through the bar. Dylan only chuckled back, but he did as he was told.

A silence fell on them; the only sounds were being the distant sounds of the festival beginning to wind down. There was only three days left before the end of the festival; four days till Alastair's execution, and five days till Dylan's. There was a thought that was hanging in their heads, and even that of some of the prisoners and guards that often saw the two Kirkland brothers together, looking as if they never had any cold blood between them.

"Why aren't you petitioning for a release?" Arthur asked that thought suddenly. Some of the prisoners, curious of the situation, went up to the bars, ears turned towards that particular cell.

"Nosy bastards…" Dylan jokingly remarked, as he had become friends with some of the more curious, talkative cellblock mates. With a sigh he looked down at his lap. "I guess I should tell you…" Arthur turned his head to look at Dylan from the side, his intrigue making him fully attentive to the older Kirkland brother. "I am not petitioning for a release from my execution… 'cause I'm already dyin'…" Arthur turned himself so he could half face his brother. Dylan kept his back to the bars, eyes still in his lap. "You realized it right? How I'm lookin' sicker… staring to cough more?" As if on cue coughs shook Dylan's body, coughs that turned into choking. Dylan covered his mouth and when he finished choking he carefully looked at his hand and then rubbed his hand on his dark, dirty pants.

Arthur had noticed. It was slow, but it was happening. A couple days after the apology, Dylan's eyes were becoming red. A couple more days he was getting weaker, slower. A couple more days after that the coughs started. More days after that his face became pale and just recently the coughs were getting harsher, and Dylan doesn't know that Arthur noticed that blood is coming out from his coughs. The guards told him that he was gagging one night on his own blood and a lot of his prisoner garb is usually always having blood on them, mostly his pants where he rubs his hands off, but sometimes also his shirt when he doesn't cover his mouth in time.

Arthur remained silent, knowing that Dylan would speak when he was ready. That was another similarity they shared. With a heavy sigh Dylan continued. "'Member in the alley, when Alastair mentioned a name?"

"Yeah, it was Lambert right?"

"Yea… it was Lambert…"

"Dylan… who's Lambert?"

His shoulders dropped and his head fell more, causing another fit of coughs, these not producing blood however. "He… was once my husband…"

"What?" Arthur sounded. Now turning to fully face Dylan, though the prisoner's back was still turned to him. "Husband? But you're not—"

"A boygi anymore… I know. I… I used the fact that you weren't my brother anymore to get away with it… without f-father knowing."

"Without… Dylan."

"Or Alastair, or Seamus. Only mum knew…"

"W-What…"

"I married 'im in secret. Scrounged some money from 'is fishin' business 'n' some money mum gave me to hire a cheap minister to do the weddin'. We… we wanted children but…"

"Didn't have the money…" Arthur finished for him.

"We went with a cheaper alternative. An off-brand." Dylan laughed scornfully. "The shop keep said it'll be alright. 'No side effects.' 'Like the real thing,' he said. My ass."

"S-So it didn't give you a… a womb?"

"It did. That was the problem." Dylan said sharply, his head twisting back to look at Arthur. "I lost the baby because it detached 'n' I miscarried. Right before Lambert 'n' I decided to run away. It was damned cowardness again, Artie." Dylan looked forward and allowed his head to hit the bars. "Plus I wasn't feelin' to well for a couple days; I cannae have travelled…"

"Well obviously losing a child brings out warnin' bells… father lashed out 'n'… 'n' Lambert the fool went to fetch me when I didnae show up at our meetin' place. He… he saw father hit me 'n' fought 'im… Seamus was already at that time, but Alastair 'n' father took 'im on… killed 'im in front of me…"

"Dylan…"

"That's what caused mum to lash out… somethin' inside 'er snapped. Attacked dad and got her throat slashed. But she got 'im too… it was… all for me… my fault again…"

"Dylan…"

"Alastair wasn't too happy with me either… still hit me even after father was gone." Turning around slowly, Dylan gave Arthur a lopsided, sad, smile. "That's when I told 'im we should come find you. So I can apologize, so he could apologize. But that didnae work out so well I'm afraid." Arthur sighed softly, eyes showing their condolences. "Well… at least you forgive me. Perhaps now I've repented enough to join Lambert…" A lone tear slipped from his eyes and Dylan quickly wiped it away.

"It was Lambert that made you religious, wasn't it?"

"Yea… I told 'im bits 'n' pieces… told me we should turn to God for healin'… in the end," he laughed softly, "in the end I think I just… really needed Lambert, 'n' only 'im."

"Dylan I—"

"Princess Arthur." A guard approached the princess.

"What is it?"

"King Francis is requesting you."

Arthur scoffed. "He still thinks I'm in danger here. It's not like he's going to do anything in this state."

The guard said nothing but just continued looking at the princess. He didn't want to disobey a direct order from the king.

"Hey, Arthur?" Dylan called softly, repressing coughs. Arthur looked to Dylan, eyes sorrowful. "I rather die quickly than continue through this. I'm ready for death, to see Lambert again. And mum." Dylan extended a hand out to Arthur and Arthur took it gently. "It's best, if maybe you don't see me again."

"No, Dylan—"

"Just… do what I say. If only once. But I do have a request."

"Y-Yes?"

"Do you think you can get the king to make my last words into a performance?"

"A performance?"

Dylan smiled fondly at his younger brother. "You're not the only musically gifted Kirkland 'ittle brother. I want to wipe that smug, prideful smile that you had on your face earlier."

Arthur laughed sharply. "As if."

"Do that for me?" Dylan asked, reaching his other hand out to place on top of Arthur's.

"Sure. For you… brother…"

"Thank you princess." Dylan responded, lifting the hands up to place a small kiss on the back of Arthur's hand. "'N' I do hope you find your happiness 'n' peace. At least, after Alastair's 'n' mine's deaths… there will be no one left that caused you pain 'n' you can move on, finally."

"Dylan, no… I…"

"Move on 'ittle brother. 'N' find happiness with Alfred. Grow old, have a babe if you want—just use the actually stuff for my sake."

"O-Of course I… Dylan!"

"Go." Dylan said, releasing the princess' hands. "Don't keep your brother, the king, waiting much longer." With groans he stood and shuffled over to the stone bench, slowly falling onto the bench in a sitting position before laying down on it back turned to Arthur. The conversation was over.

The princess released a shaky breath and stood. Keeping his gaze on Dylan for a while longer, he turned to the guard and gave a curt nod. "Let's go. I need to speak with the king."

"Of course, Your Highness." The guard responded, following behind Arthur as he walked away from the cell for the last time.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

"Arthur… what's wrong?" Alfred asked as Arthur looked out the window.

The day was dark and cloudy; rain was eminent. Arthur hated the rain. It reminded him of the day he ran for his life, carrying a newborn Peter in his arms.

Alfred came up behind him and placed a hand on the princess' arm, pulling him back gently into a half hug. He had gotten significantly better, but it still pained him to move. It was significantly better than before, and the doctor said that the pain should last for a bit longer until it fully heals and he should be back to his normal self. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Alfred asked, placing his lips on the top of Arthur's head in a soft kiss.

"Yes, I'm sure." Arthur replied as he looked down at himself. He was wearing a dark green, mostly plain dress, with a large hoop skirt and the only decoration being on the bodice; a gold front bodice with black vines and roses as the print. "I'm just going there and coming back… no need to have someone with me." He added.

"Yes but… it's Dylan execution."

"And?"

"… You became close to him this past month…"

Arthur turned in Alfred's arms then and glanced up at him. "I did. I have no doubt that I'll be affected by his death. But that's why I have to go by myself." Arthur moved away from Alfred and grabbed a black cape, throwing it around his shoulders and throwing the hood up upon his head. "Just… please wait for me here."

"I will." Alfred responded as he once again went to Arthur. "But are you sure it's okay for me to wait in the princess' quarters?"

"You'll be fine." Arthur quickly dismissed. He walked towards the door and opened it. "Just don't be too loud and get caught." Arthur added with a grin before he closed the door behind him.

Alfred chuckled and shook his head. This past month his Arthur from when they were children was slowly coming back. He was becoming more playful, softer, caring. But at the same time there was this looming fact that dethatched Arthur away from him and that was Dylan. Ever since his last visit five days ago, Arthur has been distant, lost in thought, and quiet. Much too quiet. It worried Alfred; it worried everyone, but Arthur always said he was fine.

Just like he always says he's fine. Alfred thought as he went to the window Arthur was standing at before. He looked out the window and peered at the dark sky above. It was going to rain. Alfred hated the rain. It reminded him of the day he broke Arthur's heart and almost lost him forever.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

Arthur's carriage stopped before a large crowd that gathered around the hanging gallows. Apparently Alastair and Dylan's executions were very popular. The citizens of the Central Kingdom had wanted to see more punishment towards those who caused torment to their adopted princess, and the day before and today was thought to be deaths long since coming. Arthur stepped outside of the carriage, hood still up and head down. He didn't want to be up too close so he scanned for a place higher than the ground but towards the back so he can still see. He found a small set of stairs leading to a bank that he stood upon, using the bank's magnificent pillars as a leaning post.

Looking towards the gallows, Arthur saw Francis up on the gallows with Dylan, a small band consisting of a couple violins and a piano behind the gallows. The executioner was also up on the gallows, black sack in hand, as he stood ominously next to the lever that release the trap door beneath Dylan's feet.

Arthur could see Dylan staring up at the same noose where Alastair was hung the day before. Arthur didn't attend that execution; he owed nothing to his eldest brother. But to Dylan, whom he had forgiven, he had formed a bond with him; much too late however. Arthur was sure he was going to regret going to the prison as often as he did. If he didn't regret going back as many times as he did that caused this bond to form, then he would regret not having enough time spent with his now beloved brother.

Francis on the other hand was ready for this execution. He had hated the Kirkland brothers and their father since Arthur was brought into the castle as a young child. He always has hated people who hurt others for fun and games; this set of people became a more personal matter since the victim became his brother.

"Citizens of the Central Kingdom," Francis started, his voice booming over thunder and the sounds of people's chattering's, "we are here to witness the death of a Mr. Dylan Kirkland. His crimes are not only breaking an exile, but also tormenting a human being—your own princess!" The jeering started almost immediately and Dylan sighed.

It's all goin' to be over soon Dylan. He thought to himself as he looked up towards the sky. Just a couple more moments of bein' a villain...

"The prisoner has requested his final words to be in the form of a performance." Francis said as the execution continued. Francis came to stand before Dylan, changing his attention from the sky to the royal in front of him. "I didn't appreciate how many times Arthur went to see you," the king stated, "I know that this is going to hurt him a lot more than it would have if he didn't see you as often. He's out there somewhere, and he's going to watch you die. I hope you're ready for that."

Dylan bowed his head to the king. "Of course, Your Majesty. I was thinkin' the same thing ev'ry time Arthur came to see me. But I didn't ask 'im to come. He came by 'imself."

"Hm." Francis sounded. "You may begin when ready." Francis walked off the gallows then and Dylan sighed.

Dylan looked behind him to the small band, watching him with disdain. 'Why did they have to play the music for the criminal's final words?' they were thinking. And Dylan knew they hated him. But Dylan no longer hated himself thanks to Arthur's forgiveness. He would regret, however, the last, painful strike he will deliver to his younger brother. "When you're ready." Dylan told the band with another sigh as he turned his attention to the masses before him. Never did he think that his first and last public performance of his singing would ever have been so populated. The thought made Dylan laugh sharply to himself as the song's musical introduction began**.

Dylan looked out over the crowd, eyes scanning for his last living relative (that he has met), as he began to sing.

Kiss today goodbye

The sweetness and the sorrow

Dylan found Arthur then, which was perfect for Dylan as he sung the next couple lines to Arthur. This song was the end of Dylan, in so many ways. It was his last words, his last record, and it served as his requiem… his requiem for the only person he's ever truly loved…

Wish me luck, the same to you

But I can't regret

What I did for love, what I did for love…

Dylan was screwed. All day fishing by the river and not a single bite. Father was going to kill him if he didn't bring food to the family again. He wasn't suitable for anything. Never has, never will. He threw the rod down onto the ground in anger and crossed his arms, back turned to the river. He might as well go home and just accept the consequences.

A sound reached his ears and he turned around. It was a man on a small fishing boat, his flaming red hair slicked back nicely, eyes playfully looking at him as he taunted him. Dylan ignored him and picked up his rod from the floor. He doesn't have the time to deal with the nonsense of strangers. As he walked away he felt a hand grab his arm and he turned sharply, ready to punch the fucker in the face when instead there was two large fish before his face. The man said something, 'take these to your family, I have plenty more and it looks like you need it more,' is what it sounded like. Dylan blinked and yanked the fish from the man's hand. He turned and stormed away without so much as a thanks.

The man called after him. It sounded something like 'My name's Lambert by the way! Lambert Fitzpatrick!'

Look, my eyes are dry

The gift was ours to borrow

It's as if we always knew

And I won't forget what I did for love

What I did for love…

Dylan had somehow fallen in love with the daft idiot. He had somehow ended up on Lambert Fitzpatrick's small fishing boat, and together they were fishing. A date. A date that Dylan still could not believe he said yes to. If father and his brothers found out…

Dylan shuddered at the thought and Lambert noticed. He noticed everything about the blonde. He reached over and tried to pull the other man to look at him, Dylan tried fighting him—if he looked into those hazel eyes of the fisherman he would feel he would fall for him more, and that's not what the Kirkland boy had wanted. Not at all.

Somehow the boat turned over and the two came popping out of the water. Lambert putting an arm around the turned over boat and an arm around Dylan's waist, treating him like a boygi that he isn't. Dylan almost argued that fact when a fish came up from the river and smacked straight into Lambert's face, creating this stunned look from the red-headed man.

The laughter couldn't be contained and Dylan laughed so hard he felt a tear try to push itself from behind his eye. The laughing was stopped with a soft, curt kiss upon his lips. Lambert pulled away, but not too much so that he could look into those gorgeous blue-gray eyes of Dylan Kirkland. "Your laugh is beautiful…" Dylan heard him say.

The Kirkland male splashed the other and turned away to hide the beet red blush that came from his neck up to his face. Lambert only laughed.

Gone…

Love is never gone…

As we travel on…

Love's what we'll remember

It always seemed that when Lambert was around, Dylan couldn't believe half the shit he was doing. Now here he was, standing before a minister, at the edge of the river where he and Lambert first met, getting married. To not cause any commotion, Dylan was wearing an old, mostly white dress his mum let him borrow—she was the only person from his family that knew. She could sense her son's happiness as the weeks passed and she forced the truth out of her son. She couldn't be more thrilled.

She wished she could be at the wedding, but then father would know something was amiss.

Dylan said 'I do' and kissed Lambert. It was the hundredth kiss, but the first one as man and wife.

Kiss today goodbye

And point me toward tomorrow

We did what we had to do

Won't forget, can't regret

What I did for love

Lambert wanted children—so did Dylan. But Dylan knew that his father would not stand for it. Not when 'our boygi, good for nothing, bastard child is out there living in comfort.' They went to a pharmacy; Dylan once again dressed in one of his mum's old dresses.

The store keep told them it'll be alright. 'No side effects.' 'Like the real thing.' They trusted him.

They had given their hard earned money to Death himself.

What I did for love

What I did for love

Dylan was in pain. He was throwing up blood, his sides and stomach hurt. He was supposed to run away with Lambert tonight. He had been feeling ill for days. They should have run earlier, before he got worse. Now his sides were in pain and his stomach was twisting in pain. His mum was beside him, his father and brother Alastair were yelling loudly, cursing, wondering what in the hell was happening and why was Dylan so fucking weak.

He was supposed to meet Lambert at the spot on the river where they first met. They were supposed to run.

Dylan only hoped to God that Lambert would not come for him. Not with his father and brother in the state they were in.

And I won't forget

What I did for love…

Dylan was struck in the face. His mum had to pull the dead child from him. It hurt. It hurt so much; both physically and mentally. He was so ready to be a mother, to be a family with Lambert.

His husband came through the door in anger. He pushed Dylan's father away and went to his side. Dylan was already crying but his crying became worse. "Run! Get out of here, Lambert!" He screamed to his husband in fear. Was this what Arthur felt when they attacked him? Was this what he would have felt if he took Arthur and ran all those years ago?

Lambert refused. He was not leaving his wife's side.

His father and Alastair forced Lambert outside; Dylan could see father grab his rifle as he exited their run down home. He tried to get out of bed, all bloodied and broken. His mum tried to push him down—she was crying again, always crying. 'No' he said. 'Lambert needs me…!'

Gone…

Love is never gone…

As we travel on…

Love's what we'll remember

He managed to get to the window. He collapsed onto the frame of the open window. He Lambert get punched by Alastair. Father raised the gun up and aimed.

"Lambert!" Dylan screamed, in agony, in fear.

Lambert's hazel eyes met Dylan's blue-gray. Lambert was crying. The only other time he cried was at their wedding.

His eyes were sad. They never looked that way before.

He knew. He knew he was going to die. And he regretted that it was in front of his suffering bride.

The gun went off, bullet straight in Lambert's head. "No….!" Dylan screamed, tears blurred his vision but he saw father stomping his way back inside.

He heard mum yell and scream. She was angry. She's never been angry before. At least… not shown it. The gun clattered, knives were drawn. And Dylan saw his parents kill each other.

Alastair came over and punched Dylan in the face once more.

Kiss today goodbye…

And point me toward tomorrow

We did what we had to do…

Dylan was singing through his tears and the rain. It started to pour halfway through his song but he was too immersed in his song and in his memories to notice.

Somewhere in the crowds of people who were crying along with him, Arthur clung to the pillar of the bank, tears mixing with the rain as he knew what the song was for. He could see his brother's memories in his mind, as if by magic. He felt his brother's pain as if it was his own. And he loved Lambert like a brother.

Won't forget, can't regret

What I did for love…

What I did for love…

What I did for love…

Dylan looked across the crowd to Arthur, their eyes locking. Through the rain the clouds parted, and the sun shone, landing on Dylan. He looked up into the sun and smiled warmly. He felt Lambert in the sun. And soon he would join him. With his mum, and his poor, unborn child.

What I did for love…

As the music winded down, the executioner spent no time in placing the black sack over Dylan's head, the sun's light gone, but the warmth still there. The noose went around his neck tightly and underneath the sack Dylan smiled. He wasn't afraid anymore. He wasn't a coward anymore. He wouldn't be a villain anymore.

The lever was pulled and Dylan's body fell through, it spasming and rocking in the air as his life slipped away from it. Eventually his body stopped rocking as it swayed in the rain.

Arthur slid down the pillar onto his knees and cried into it. His sobs going through his body. He stayed liked that till the crowds dissipated and the rain thoroughly soaked through his clothing.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

The Princess of the Central Kingdom came through the large dual doors of the castle, soaked through and wet hood still upon his head, his footman and carriage driver behind him in worry. "Maids! Maids!" The driver yelled. "Help the princess out of his wet clothes!"

"Unnecessary." The princess merely responded. "I'll do it myself in my room."

A maid came up to him with a worried expression. "But princess, you must hurry or you'll get sick!"

"It's fine. I'll prepare a hot bath myself too and soak in it."

"Princess…!" The maid reacted. "At least allow me to prepare—"

"Unnecessary." Arthur responded again as he climbed up the stairs slowly, a trail of water behind him.

"Princess! Princess Arthur!" Another maid, a boygi, came running from a side corridor, a satchel in his arms. "A-A package from the prison arrived earlier, princess!" Arthur froze in his steps. "U-Uh… typically any belongs of a death row prisoner goes to next of kin but, uh… A-Alastair Kirkland didn't have any belongings but Dylan K-Kirkland had a satchel. I-It's addressed to go to you…"

The princess turned and went back down the stairs, stopping before the boygi maid who went up some steps. Arthur pulled back his wet hood, wet hair sticking to his face, eyes pale and red from crying. Hands wordlessly extended out towards the boygi maid. The maid stammered and handed the satchel over, curtsying deeply before walking backwards off the steps. "Thank you…" Arthur said softly as he looked up at the retreating maid. He stopped and looked back up, eyes wide. Arthur bowed his head in thanks for the worrying servants and proceeded up the stairs again.

Upon reaching his room, Arthur walked in to see Alfred sitting at his boudoir, playing with a coin he found in the room, the silver coin going across the top of his fingers in a mesmerizing pattern. Alfred, upon hearing the door open, looked up, a big smile on his face at first before it fell into a deep frown. "Arthur, you're soaking wet." He placed the coin down and stood, meeting Arthur halfway after the princess closed the door behind him. "Let me get a maid to prepare the bath and I'll—"

"No need…" Arthur said, voice wavering as he was staring down at the satchel. "I-I'll do it." He walked over towards the screen that separates the room from the bath area, placing the satchel down on a table on the way.

Alfred heard the sounds of water being filled into the tub. He stood in silence until he heard the water stop and the steam coming from behind the screen. Arthur came back out from around the screen, coat now off and over his arm. "You should really… get out of those clothes quickly I… I'll leave—"

"Why did I go back as many times as I did?" Arthur asked, his voice broken. Alfred stopped mid-step and looked back at Arthur who dropped the cloak onto the floor and went to the table with the satchel. "Why did I give him that?" He began to open the satchel up, pulling out notebooks of papers and sheet music and a small money bag. "Did I owe him that? I don't think I did…" Arthur also found an envelope that was addressed to him. Opening it, he read the contents of the letter inside silently, all the while Alfred slowly making his way to the heartbroken princess. Arthur's body was beginning to shake with sobs once more as he finished reading the letters.

"That fucking…" He cried as he put the letter down and put a hand over his mouth. "This is… this is all of his music he made… he gave it all to me…" Frantically going through some of the notebooks a gut-wrenching sob went through Arthur as he grabbed several sheets and fell to the floor on his knees again, Alfred catching him before his knees truly collided with the floor. "This is his last song… his last words…" The sobs continued as he cried into Alfred's shoulder. It hurt Alfred, since it was his injured shoulder, but he allowed the princess to cry, giving soft murmuring to calm him. "Dylan you fucking twat…" The princess sobbed.

"Shh… shh… it's alright Arthur…" Alfred gave him a kiss on top of the head and slowly rocked the crying male in his arms. "Please stop crying… please?" Another kiss on the head. "I love you, I… I hate seeing you cry…"

Arthur took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. Pulling back from Alfred he looked into those deep blue eyes he loved so much. "Al…"

"Yes, love?"

Arthur released a quick breath at the endearment. "Can… can you help me get out of these clothes?"

Alfred blushed deeply. "I, uh, s-shouldn't a maid d-do that n-not a man, I mean a…a…"

"Alfred." Arthur said, suddenly serious. "I want you to do it. My brother's love died because he withheld information from him, he didn't tell him everything. I want you to know everything. I want you to see everything… just in case… just in case you decide you don't want to be with me…"

"Arthur I would never not want to be with you!" Alfred said with vindication. "I love you. I always have."

Arthur raised a hand to Alfred's face. "That's why I want you to know everything. Even if that means we're damned afterwards."

"We're not going to be damned…" Arthur remained silent as Alfred stared at him. With a sigh Alfred gave in. "Alright. I'll do it. Turn around."

They both stood and the princess turned his back to Alfred, eyes towards the floor. Alfred noticed that he was shaking, whether or not it was because of the wet clothes he was in or the worry that Arthur was feeling, Alfred didn't know. Maybe it was a combination of both. With a shaky exhale and a blush spreading across his face, Alfred began to undo the corset ties on the back, starting from the top and working his way down. Arthur was beginning to blush as well as he felt the top of his dress begin to loosen. Even though they were both male, it was something about Arthur being a boygi and Alfred undressing him that made his heart hammer in his chest. Arthur raised a shaking hand to one shoulder, grabbing the fabric there, and slowly began pulling it down; Alfred mimicked Arthur's movement on his other shoulder, the top of the dress coming down around his waist. Alfred's breath caught in his throat as he saw what Arthur had been covering up for years…

Scars and burn marks all over his back. Most of the scars were deep; some Alfred could tell were whips, other were blades. His back was splotched with burns, some coming from around the front and curling around his sides. His left arm was burned entirely and faint scars were around his wrists from being tied tightly. His right arm was better off, but cigarette burns were spotting his arms. Alfred's hands began to shake in anger as he continued undressing the princess. He was no longer blushing in embarrassment but in anger. He pulled up the dress over Arthur's head and stared at Arthur, hoop skirt the only thing he was wearing.

The legs weren't as bad as his back, but there were scars there too. Mostly blades and cigarette burns, and even some whip marks were seen. Undoing the hoop skirt ties, Alfred carefully lifted the device over the princess' head and placed it down behind him. Now Arthur was completely bare, shivering from the cold and from fear. He has never willingly shown anyone his scars. The doctors of the castle have seen it countless times, Francis and his adopted parents had seen them, and now Alfred is seeing them. Those are the only people who know the severity of his scars.

Alfred gently turned Arthur around to look at the front. Arthur was crying again, refusing to look at Alfred. Alfred's shaking hands passed over Arthur's chest, coming to a rest over his stomach where it looks like he was stabbed a couple times on the side. They were careful not to kill him, but that meant that Arthur was suffering all that time, always on the edge of death but never being pushed completely over.

"I'm hideous…" Arthur managed. "I… don't deserve you…"

Alfred took a hand and forced Arthur to look at him, blue eyes staring deep into jade green. "If anything I don't deserve you." Alfred began, angry at himself for letting this happen for so long. For not noticing—despite only being a child. For not being smart enough to catch onto it. For breaking Arthur's heart like he did. "It was a wonder that you even gave me a chance, Arthur. But now I know that it was almost damned near impossible for this chance to be at your side."

"Al—"

"I hurt you. Not only emotionally but physically. I may not have done this to you, but I let it continue."

"You were a child. I was a child. I—"

"No." Alfred said strongly. "No I could have done something. I don't know what, but I could have figured it out. Instead I left you and insulted you for some fake friends." Putting his other hand on the other side of Arthur's face, Alfred gently head the princess' head in his hands, not letting the other look away for a moment. "No, I could have done something. It's too late to do anything now but I will promise you this; I will never hurt you again. And if I do you can leave me forever."

"Alfred, no…"

"You can leave me forever, beat me, imprison me—whatever you want. I love you, Arthur Kirkland. And I want to be with you. You, who is still the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on." Arthur gasped softly in shock and disbelief; there was no way Alfred could still think him beautiful after this. "You. Are. Beautiful." Alfred said with exoneration. "You are beautiful." He repeated again, as if he heard Arthur's thoughts. "And I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my living days proving to you that you are beautiful. Even if you never believe me… you are beautiful, and I love you with every inch of my being… Princess Arthur of the Central Kingdom."

Arthur chuckled breathlessly. "Th-That almost sounded like a p-proposal."

Alfred smirked faintly before slipping down to one knee, hands sliding down Arthur's arms to grasp his hands in his own. "What if it is?" Alfred asked, anger gone and replaced with a coy determination.

The princess' laugh got caught in his throat as a blush took over. "W-Well it's a s-strange proposal indeed."

Alfred laughed heartedly. "True. I don't think anyone else has ever been proposed to while being stark naked."

Arthur's blush increased as he laughed. Slipping down onto his knees before Alfred he nodded his head and chuckled once more. "You're an idiot…"

"No, my dear, you are. For thinking I would leave you once I finally have you again." With that a hand held Arthur's chin as Alfred leaned in and kissed the boygi princess for the first time. Arthur's eyes got wide before narrowing in happiness. Arthur smiling into the kiss as the princess kissed his Alfred.

*The Kingdoms of Hetalia*

Two proposals in 2 chapters?! Preposterous! The Williams-Jones boys are getting hitched! (Maybe a dual wedding?)

Anyway, Alfred got a bit OOC towards the end but I think he would react like that if he actually saw Arthur with that much scarring on him… I don't know. I'm tired. 29 pages later and many tissues later…

*Siamsa is a song from the show Lord of the Dance. I recommend you listen to it. It's pretty fun.

**Song used for Dylan's last words was What I Did For Love from the musical A Chorus Line. I used Josh Groban's version of the song for inspiration for the scene.

PLEASE REVIEW! Love ya'll!