The sun rose over the large victorian house out near the land bridge in Caersws, the small rays dancing gleefully along the water of the Severn River that flowed without a care through the town. The lazy water strode down, making a light noise to the otherwise quiet morning as the first streams of the sun's light stretched into the windows of the stone house that sat idly by, awaiting the caresses from the sun to warm it. The curtains we're being drawn inside the house, one by one, each a light rose color to match the decor on the inside as well as the outside.

A window silently creaked open, creating one of the many new sounds to be created on this new humid morning. Doors silently clicked against their frames, closing the rest of the house out. Silent shoes stopped in front of a table at the entrance to the house, a pen was opened, paper placed on the table and the hand that gripped the pen wrote fuliently, dotting her I's with ease. Finally, the brown door opened, and the woman stepped out, a trenchcoat covering her uniform, black boots hiding her feet. She turned, facing the day with a small, tired smile, and began walking the four miles back to her home, but not without a goodbye, however silent it was.

"Goodbye, Arthur, I'll see you next week, be nice to Alfred, will you?"

Finally, the sun rose high enough to warm the stone victorian style balcony that rested above the door. The slider doors, curtains pulled back ever so slightly, were the next to be graced with the warmth. The glass was located farther to the left of the balcony, freshly cleaned, but never luminescent. The small rays entered the opening in the curtains, sliding into the dark room like a child with a horrendous curiosity for the unknown. It danced into the room, the small invisible dust particles that littered the air became alive and began their dance with the early morning rays as they stretched about the room, finally resting upon a pale face.

The boy was small, no more than ten or twelve years, but he was mature in many ways. He was merely visiting Caersws and was not a full time resident like the one he was staying with, the one who slept soundlessly next to him, the one his arms held onto and his head rested on.

Long black eyelashes fluttered against the pale cheeks resting below them, blinking the sleeping boy to the awakening world. At last, the birds outside began chirping, their attempts at song becoming more beautiful, yet all the more annoying.

Pale blue eyes, crusted with sleep, opened, gazing hazily around the room as blond strands of straight hair fell to block their view. Black bags rested underneath them, yet again he hadn't gotten much sleep. The boy made a moaning sound from the base of his throat before pushing the hair away. He didn't nessicarily like waking up early, he knew it would easily become routiene after a while, but as of right now, he was just so tired. His eyelids slipped shut yet again as his pillow heaved a sigh, the early signs of joining the world's awakening.

A hand found the boys hair, stroking back and forth, comforting him, lulling him back to sleep.

"Love," a small whisper began. "Love, are you awake?"

The boy's hands gripped at the blankets surrounding his pillow that had made the vibrations, that was stroking his hair.

More hair fell into the boy's face, tickling his nose, making him twitch it upwards.

The free hand of his pillow came to brush that piece of hair away, "Love, come on, I know you're awake."

The boy opened his eyes, resting them halfway, and he heaved a sigh. The hand that had brushed the hair away came to rest its fingertips underneath the boy's blue eyes.

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

"How could I?" The boy asked, his voice hoarse with unuse. "the weight was too much... I don't think I can do this..."

The pillow sighed, "Alfred, I understand it's hard, I do, but you must realise that this is your responsibility now. I can't be there to hold you up anymore, you need to learn how to handle this yourself."

Alfred's eyes began to burn as he pushed himself up on weak shaking arms, he wasn't about to lose this fight, "Handle this myself? The only reason I came here was to get away from it all! To relax for a few goddamn days! Is that too much to ask for? Well? Is it?" He stared at his brother, blue eyes boaring into green.

His brother sat up on his forearms, sighing as he did so, "Listen, Love, I understand how you feel. I went through it, too, you're not alone, I promise."

Alfred's arms shook, "then why... do I feel like the weight is too much...? Why can't I hold it all on my own like Francis and you do...? Even Mathew can hold it better than I can... Am I just... weaker than all of you? What's wrong with me, Arthur...?"

He didn't realize he had said his brother's name aloud, but Arthur let it slide, this was hard for him, "You just haven't gotten used to the flow of things yet, Love. It'll come in time, don't worry too much about it."

He sat up completely, the blanket that covered his torso falling clumsily at his waist and continued, "You look exhausted, perhaps you should sleep in today, I worry for your health."

Alfred straightened, "No, I'll be fine, besides, I'm already awake."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up on two unsteady legs, his arms out for balance. Arthur watched, muscles tense as he took a step, his body shaking with the effort of simply moving with the weight on his shoulders. It concerned him, no one like them has ever experienced something like this before, at least, not this extreme.

The second step, if a bit bolder and more proud, proved to be his downfall. His body shook violently and he stumbled to the floor, falling face first into the hardwood floor, his forehead making immediate contact with it.

A horrific thud echoed the room as Arthur sprung up to help the boy up, his arms grasping at the forearm of the shaking individual before him.

"No!" he cried, slamming his fist into the floor. Arthur jolted, surprised by the sudden outburst.

"I can do this..."

Slowly, but surely, Alfred began to rise, the hands of Arthur positioned in front and behind him, just in case. Alfred scoffed at him, receiving a smirk from the older figure, as his shaking legs brought him to a standing position; and for the first time in two years, Alfred began to hold his head up. Automatically, his shoulders drew back as well, even if his shoulders and legs were still shaking terribly.

"Love, are you alright?" Arthur asked, rising beside the younger boy beside him.

Alfred looked at him and nodded, "Y-yeah, don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Let's just... get to breakfast okay?"

Arthur nodded, "Emily!"

"Emily, where are you?" Alfred shot him a look.

"Isn't it Saturday?" Arthur's eyes widened a bit.

"Saturday? As in the 17th?"

Alfred's left blond eyebrow rose, "Yeah, why?"

"Oh, no... I've got a meeting today."

Alfred's eyebrows pulled together, "You mean you'll be gone again?"

Arthur looked at the young boy, so innocent, so strong, "Listen, if you promise to be good, I'll take you with me."

The boy's eyes lit up, "Really? No way!"

He hugged the man, "Thank you, Iggy! Thank you!"

"Iggy? What's with this Iggy nonsense?"

Alfred smiled, "Hehe, nothing, just a nickname!"

Arthur looked at him, bewildered, but he smiled, "Go on, go downstairs, I'll make you breakfast."

Alfred's face went pale, "H-how bout I make breakfast for us today?"

"That's... unusal, but if you insist."

"Oh, I do! I love cooking! Let me go start!"

Alfred dashed down the stairs.

"oh, thank God...," he thought as he walked into the kitchen and turned on the stove. "If I couldn't stomach it last time... there's no way I'll be able to this time, espically when I'm so..." His thought trailed leaving empty space as he began to make eggs for two.

Ten minutes passed and the two were sitting across from eachother at a very long table.

"Can't we shorten the length of the table?" Alfred asked, playing with his eggs. "or get a round one? This is ridiculous."

"A round table? That's a stupid idea," Arthur deadpanned. "Who on earth would have a round table in a royal family?"

"Well, everyone where I'm from has a round table..."

"That's because they're pesants, when you finally become like me and have Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses, you'll understand."

"I... suppose so..."

Silence engulfed the room and the weight on Alfred's shoulders got a bit heavier with each passing second. He finally realized that he was completely destroying his breakfast and went to go throw it out. He found food repulsive all of a sudden and couldn't really pull his mind away from the weight. Arthur soon followed suit, only he just placed his plate in the sink on top of Alfred's.

"We've got some time before the meeting, so after we dress, would you like to hear some music?"

Alfred nodded, "yes, of course." He was always a fan of music, espically Arthur's. The way he so easily put random things together on the piano just made Alfred smile, even when the weight was too much.

That's one of the reasons he came to Britain to see Arthur, so he could listen to his music and watch his hands.

He loved watching his hands as they moved so effortlessly over the keys. The way his fingertips lightly tapped the white surface before pushing down then shifting and repeating the rythem again. How the keys so easily created a perfect sound that echoed and vibrated into Alfred's ears, becoming his whole world for those short minutes...

"Love?"

The simple word snapped him out of his trance as Arthur put a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright, Love? You look a bit pale..."

"Who, me? Oh, don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Alfred said, forcing a smile.

Arthur nodded with a snide thought, "says the boy who can't sleep." Arthur stayed back a for a few seconds to watch Alfred walk up the stairs, each step upward almost dragged down by gravity and the weight. Each stair seemed so hard for him, just watching him made Arthur remember what it was like when he was dealing with the weight. It wasn't unbearable, it wasn't like Alfred's, it wasn't light either, but it wasn't as heavy as his. His legs shook with the effort to keep himself standing and Arthur wondered if he should just make him stay home and baby him until he becomes accustomed to the weight, which... he possibly couldn't...

Arthur shook his head, quickly, violently. He wouldn't think like that, Alfred is a strong boy, his country has promise and it always will.

Arthur mumbled the name of the country located across the sea so quietly it was but a whisper in the wind of the morning, "...America."

Alfred seemed to loose his paitence, waiting at the top of the stairs, but he held his tongue, watching as Arthur's eyes slowly dropped to the floor, unusually large eyebrows creasing upwards as they drew down over his eyes. He didn't seem strong when he was like this, and Alfred hated it. He hated seeing Arthur sad, he hated hearing about the horrible things happening in his country, he hated seeing him so... weighed down.

If anyone was to play the defenseless, trapped, lonely child, it should be him, not Arthur.

Never Arthur.

Alfred closed his blue eyes tightly and turned his head to the side, refusing to watch his idol fall under the weight.

"Hey, Love," Arthur began as he ascended the long stairs to Alfred's position. "Don't worry about anything... You don't need to worry about anything, I'll always be here to protect you, and I'll always be here when you need me, alright?"

Arthur took the young boy's hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze and kissed his forehead gently.

Alfred pouted, "hmph, soon enough I won't need protection."

He looked up at Arthur and his eyes sparkled with each work that escaped his lips, "Someday... I'll be the Hero, just wait, you'll see. Then if you ever need help, I'll be here to protect you and I'll be here when you need me."

Arthur smiled so warmly it would melt even the coldest ice, "Yes, I know. You're destined for great things, Love, and don't you dare let anyone else tell you otherwise." He turned his head toward the bay window, the sun resting over his features in a soft, godlike way, "I'll be waiting for the day when you come to my rescue, Love."

Oh, how Alfred wished he could really mean those words that he had just said, but, sadly, he knew that as long as the weight kept him tied to the ground with chains twice his weight, he'd never rise up and stand on the pedistal Arthur always put him on. He didn't even know why he said those things to Arthur, why he lied right in front of his face. He knew he'd never be able to take those words back...

...Why couldn't he just be the hero? Just once? Just once he'd like to protect someone from something, or scoop someone up in his arms and tell him that everything would be alright, that nothing would ever hurt them, or dare to harm them, or even say a single threat to them. He wanted to be like Arthur.

He wanted to protect him so much, to tell him that he'd take care of everything for once, that he could stand on his own without using Arthur as a krutch.

Finally, Alfred tore his eyes away from the golden figure in front of him and walked into their room to change, Arthur trailing behind.

{~:-|-:~}

"Hey, hey, hey, hold on a second, let me warm up first," Arthur said with a smile as Alfred began to pester him to play for the twelfth time.

"Alright, but hurry, we have to leave soon and because you're so conceded and vain in the morning you take way too long so we never have enough time to do what we want to in the morning," Alfred whined. Arthur laughed, a smile breaking out over his usually worried expression, and that made Alfred smile. All he wanted was for Arthur to be happy, and if this was how he'd make him happy, he'd stay stupid and immature for the rest of his life, even if he had to act.

"Alright, anything in particular you want me to play?"

Arthur's hands skillfully climbed up each scale, shifting to the sharp notes then down back to the netural.

Alfred named the scales he knew silently in his head, "G... A... C..."

"Love?"

"Oh, sorry. No nothing specific, just... play will you, please?"

Arthur smiled and stopped his scales and flexed his hands before hitting notes in a way that always made Alfred get chills. The chills that ran seductivly down his spine, traveling down his arms and reaching his fingertips forced him to close his eyes each time. Oh, how he loved the sweet sound of the piano, but, what striked him as odd was that the key was in minor, instead of the usual major that he's been so accustomed to.

Alfred opened his eyes, "Arthur?"

The music stopped short, Arthrur having jumped at the sudden sound of Alfred's voice, "Love? What's wrong?"

"That's what I was going to ask you..."

Arthur looked at him, large eyebrows creasing upwards, "Why? Why were you going to ask me that?"

"Well... you're playing in a minor key instead of a major and I got worried, so I was just wondering if you were sad or anything like that..."

"Minor... and... Major...? You mean you know the difference?"

Alfred blinked, "Of course I know the difference, why wouldn't I?"

Arthur turned his head away, "Nothing's wrong, don't worry about it alright?"

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest, "What's wrong?"

Arthur stood up, closing the lip to the piano, his face was hard and he meant business.

"Nothing is wrong. Nothing that you could ever understand anyways so just mind your own business, okay, Alfred?"

Alfred's face twisted and his eyebrows show down, turing his eyes dark, "What wouldn't I understand? I'm old enough to understand when something's wrong with you, Arthur, and I know that there's something seriously wrong. You never play in a minor key and I'm seriously worried here. Can't you just tell-"

"Alfred please!"

Arthur's voice echoed throughout the empty home, sending Alfred's eyes wide as he stared down at the floor.

Alfred's eyes scanned the floor frantically, trying to muster up the courage to say something... to say anyting.

"Go get your coat. We're leaving now."

Alfred's eyes slowly lifted, staring at the green fire filled ones that were glaring down at him underneath bushy eyebrows.

He didn't say anything and Arthur took that as a defiance, "Right now, Alfred. Go get your coat."

Alfred nodded and began to walk down the hall.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, you know..." He said, softly, "Please don't make me go back with a bad image of you... Please stop being so harsh with me... I don't want to go back having two weights on my shoulders..."

Arthur's shoulders slumped, "Alfred... you have to understand that there are somethings that you could never understand..."

Alfred whipped around, his jacket swinging around, "Then tell me! I'll never understand anything if you never tell me!"

Arthur sighed and held his hand out toward the smaller country, "Come, walk with me to the meeting. We'll be late, but... it'll be worth it as long as you get some understanding."

Alfred took the outstretched hand with a bit of worry before latching on like he was his lifeline, his reason for going out to sea in the first place.

Arthur opened the door, letting go of Alfred's hand and locking once they were on the porch, "Now listen here, Alfred," he paused as they began the long walk to the meeting hall in London, "there's a lot you don't understand, but let's start with the weight, alright?"

"But, Arthur, I already know about the weight. It's the country's weight, it's just there," Alfred said rather bluntly, latching onto Arthur's hand once again.

Arthur smiled, "Yes, it is your country's weight, but it's not just there. There is more to it. The weight on your shoulders is a reminder."

"Reminder?"

"Yes, it reminds you that you have a bigger purpose in life. That if you die, so does your country. The weight is a bringer of good news, and a bringer of bad news. When the weight is light, you're country is in a state of bliss, everything has gone well. When the weight is harsh, pounding down on your shoulders like a million bricks, you're country is in turmoil, there's nothing you can do about it unless the people do something about it."

"Wait, I'm not understanding this," Alfred said, as they turned down the path that lead to the town just ahead of their small recluse. "So, is my country in pain? Is that why I'm suffering with this?"

"Well, no," Arthur began, squeezing the small pale hand that was wound tightly in his. "You're just starting to find your place in this growing world, and with that comes the placement of everything you'll have to deal with. That Fate left in place for you. There's a trail we all must follow, much like the one we're on and sometimes..." He stopped to step over a fallen tree, "There are obsticles you need to overcome and get across to find the way to the happier times ahead."

Alfred grinned, stepping over the fallen tree, "you planned this didn't you?"

"How could I plan a tree's falling, Love? Am I Mother Nature? I think not. Sometimes the universe just wants to tell us things, in this case, the universe is helping me prove my point."

"You're still not making much sense, Arthur," Alfred confessed, latching onto his hand again. "You talk about the universe and Fate and things of that nature, but you're not helping me understand me."

Arthur sighed, "Because I can't, Love. You're the only one who can understand yourself. I'm just here to help Fate line out the path for you."

"Well... could you tell me how you coped with the weight in the beginning?" Alfred's blue eyes sparkled a bit in the morning sunlight as they neared the town where they would then pick up their horses and continue on toward London.

"...Well I wasn't as strong as you are... It took me awhile to get used to it," He lied with a smile, "But after awhile I was finally able to stand up straight and walk on my own without trouble."

"Really? That means... I'll get better soon, right, Arthur?"

Arthur smiled, "yes of course you will, Love. And I'll be right there when it gets to be too much for you again."

Alfred pouted and looked at Arthur, "Promise?"

Arthur seemed confused, "Promise? You want me to promise that I'll be there when the weight is too much?"

Alfred nodded, "I want you to promise that you'll always be there for me when the weight gets too much."

Arthur's eyes drew downward, his face forlorn, "I can't always be there for you, Love... I can try... I really can, but there are sometimes when you have to do things on your own... That and we live an ocean apart... it'll be... diffucult to help you through it when we're that far apart, Love."

Alfred seemed to ponder that thought a bit before answering, "Well, then promise you'll never forget about me and if I ever need your help with the weight you'll be there for me, even if we're far away... does that sound alright?"

Arthur seemed a bit wary of this idea but nodded anyways, "Yes. I promise, Love."

Alfred smiled as they reached the stable, the horses nibbling away at the haystacks by their hooves.

"Good Morning, Sir Arthur, are you here for Green Mint and Stargazer?" The owner's wife, Emily asked with a kind smile.

"Yes, but you don't have to get them for us, we know the way," Arthur said politely.

"I still can't believe you named your horse Green Mint," Alfred said rather smugly.

"Well, I can't believe you named your horse Stargazer."

"I have a logical reason behind mine!"

"Oh, do you now?"

"Yes, I do. I first found her when I was out walking when you were at a meeting. She was all alone and it was a very clear and starry night. She didn't seem afraid of me or anything, she just kept looking up at the stars... She was really pretty... and besides, the only reason you named yours Green Mint is because you claim to see mythical things that aren't real at all."

"Oh, shut up you git! They are real and you know it. You're just jealous that you can't see them."

"Yeah, sure. Okay, Arthur, whatever you say."

They took their horses by the reigns and lead them out of the stable, bickering along the way.

{~:-|-:~}

"Now, as you can see here, trade with the Americas has become a fantastic bargain with all of the natural resources they've been shipping to us," The deep throated, skinny man at the end of the long maple wood table said.

"Yes, I do see, but what I also see is the giant shipping fee hanging over our heads," Arthur stated, shuffling the papers he had resting in front of him. "Trading with the Americas has put a major dent in our finances as well, if we don't trade more with them, we'll surely end up with less money than we started with when we sent the expolorers out there in the first place."

"Why don't we just tax them again," One man chimed in from the far corner of the table, "Doesn't that seem reasonable?"

Alfred had stayed quiet during this, like he was told, leaning against the wall behind Arthur, pretending not to hear anything, after all, he was just a kid, but suddenly he felt lightheaded. It's not like he hasn't felt lightheaded at all this past week, but he's been able to push through it, not ever letting Arthur know that he's been like this. He didn't want Arthur to worry. He never wanted Arthur to worry about him. He could take care of himself. Then the room was spinning and Alfred leaned forward, gripping the back of Arthur's chair, his face going alabaster white. Arthur didn't seem to notice, but Alfred didn't want to give him anymore trouble than he was already dealing with. He let go of the chair and slowly rose back to a standing position, his face casted down towards the floor, trying to focus his eyes on one pair of feet below him. His vision just wouldn't focus so finally, he mustered up enough courage and swallowed his pride to say something to Arthur.

"A... Arthur," He whispered, sweat pooling down his brow. Arthur glanced behind him, green eyes curious, but confused. "Arthur I think there's... something..."

The world was becoming black, his vision filling with dancing spots, moking him into unconsciousness.

"Love? Love are you okay?" Arthur asked, turning in his chair as Alfred slowly started to fall to the floor.

"I think... there's something..." He hit the floor. Hard. "wrong..."

His vision went black, but not before hearing the frantic voice of his protector, "Alfred? Alfred! Alfred, Love, stay with me! Someone! Get a doctor, please!"

Those words stung him, tore his heart into pieces, shreding it beyond recognition, until finally... nothing.