The Queen's Duplicate [USUK]

Wonted

    Chapter 1  

      Days so serene full of detailed ocean blue, the rest is a humming mix of warmth. Peaceful yet lonely, pitiful with nothing to mourn, in addition, no stress can be reached nor found within the grasps of air. Birds fly, playing in the light and buzzing in the songs surrounding, gentle breezes awakening the world to the dawn upon as dew is flown from the trees into the raw scent of the forests. 

     "Alfred."

     Forests fade out into a blinding light filling the room, the birds flying in joy now replaced with the dull cream celling painted in gold specks. Rolling over the covers slip off, forcing exposure to the piercing atmosphere. Standing there, he looks brilliant enclosed in purples, displaying the snow touched skin, his face turned into the look of depletion. Pulling the covers back over, nulling back into the world I so placidly  lost myself in.  

      A loud sign uproars through the distance of the outside birds, weight falls onto the side turning my back at an angle, "I understand you're weary, however, we have a purpose. Come along, prepare for the morning and arrive in the hall. The day shall pass before you can blink."

      Opening my lips I find myself unable to articulate, dehydrated from nights embrace, until whispering out, "No."

     The pressure on the bed releases, hands press and grasp onto the covers, ripping them off and dropping onto the wooden floor. Curling in, I work to provide comfort so desperately desired until the sound of doors closing ring in my ears.

     Too iced, frozen to the bone. The clock notes five while my brain remarks a resounding two, a cup of coffee would be so heavenly desired at the moment. Everyday, my eyes feel dense filling with lead, ever since the devastating marriage appointed by two Kingdoms, the wreckage; however, as he would often say we mustn't focus on what is out of our control.

     Seating myself down a cup is filled before me, "Thank you, Lorraine."

     "Glad to see you've finally arisen."

     Looking over I find Arthur to place a piece of egg onto toast which has been cut into precise pieces, "Yao departed an hour ago, he was in quite a hurry after there was a mention of the Kingdom of Clubs and their King."

     Scowling into the coffee I raise it, stinging my upper lip, "After everything we attempted, we're still to blame." 

     "You of all know how Ivan is, you two were at one point closely acquainted: you should be able to read his, shall we say tone?"

     "Cold. Distant. An apparition occurring late in the night, faintly painted in the corner closing a creaking door to awaken you only to slam it shut leaping you into fear."

     Rolling his eyes, he pulls up on his sleeve, "If you wish to be ill mannered this morning them I will leave you to it and take my leave, you shouldn't have to bother twice." Placing his utensils onto his plate he turns to withdraw.

    "Arthur, come on." His coat billows behind him, heels clacking in a fury departing for the halls, sitting up I make my way to him, slipping my hand into his.

    "What." He hisses, attempting to not alarm the staff nor lose his pose. After a minute his brows furrow, pressing thine lines between, "you know, if I didn't tolerate you to the extent I do, your hair would no longer be existent." 

    Pulling away I don't bother to argue, often this is the standard tone within the walls. A consistent sound of silence, bitter, and exhaustion stirring inside, rather than the laughter that might have filled them months ago with jubilation singing through the windows. The days that turned into shallow water, which wash our heals and build sand around them.