For Queen and Captain {|Hetalia Human AU|}

A new rival

Gorsh, dudes, how'm I doin' so far? Feedback, anybody? First legitimate comment gets a dedication! 

Arthur was halfway through the mountainous pile of potatoes when the LaFluer, that French bastard, came into the kitchen. "Boy, go and tidy up your quarters! I've had this boy brought all the way from my country, and I will not have him staying in the merde conditions you let yourself live in!" Arthur wanted to slap him. He kept his room at tiptop condition as much as he could with the bloody tools given. Nevertheless, he nodded, standing and scurrying on those light feet of his to the ladder and scrambling up it quickly. He glanced around and yelped as a broom was shoved through the hatch, landing on his foot heavily.

"Make yourself useful, boy. Break this and I'll skin you." Arthur nodded, lifting the broom and briefly studying the bruise on his bare foot. Wonderful. He sighed and opened the small window, taking a bare moment to look out at the city before getting to work, sweeping out the dust from the corners and using the bristles of the broom to clean out the spiders' webs from the eves.

"Monsieur LaFluer?" Arthur looked up at the faint voice from below as he finished setting up the second, never-used cot that usually resided in the corner of his room. He scurried over and hung his head through the open hatch, hair pulled straight down as he watched the people in the kitchen with his emerald eyes.

"Ah, Francis! I haven't seen you in so long! You look well!" He watched in facination as his master hugged the new boy, who met his eyes over LeFluer's shoulder. Arthur felt like he had an eternity to study the fine features of the other boy. Blonde hair, more of a soft tallow color than his bright shock of hair. Blue eyes with a look of devilish mischief and distain for the world.

"Who is that, Monsieur LaFluer?" Arthur's master glanced over his shoulder and huffed, snarling at Arthur, who cringed. "My apprentice, but the boy's useless, Francis." This 'Francis' boy stepped over and peered at Arthur, giving Arthur a chance to take in his gently used tunic.

"Are you sure, mon? He's too cute, if he lost the black eye!" Arthur felt his face heat up indignantly as his master laughed. "You think so, child? I suppose we could clean him up and sell him to a lady of the court as a toy, but he's too scrawny for that." Arthur held as still as he could, hoping not to invite more comments. 

His hopes failed.

"Non, I don't believe so. Come down, um... what's your name, boy?" Arthur felt himself break just a tiny bit inside. One tiny crack in his sanity as he carefully flipped down from the hatch, landing crouched on his feet. 

"Arthur." Francis smiled, looking him up and down and glancing at Arthur's master. "He's strong enough for it, though he could stand to put on some muscle." Arthur wanted to slap him. He was muscled like a horse and the fool couldn't see it.

"Oui, but for now he's to be your partner in work here, Francis." Arthur cringed as his master's gaze fell upon him. "Boy, he gets the cot. you'll be sleeping in the shed now." Arthur frowned. "But there's two--" Arthur stumbled back as his master's hand met his cheek heavily.

"No backtalk, boy!" Arthur glared at the Frenchman briefly and nodded slowly, getting to his feet and glaring at the ground.

"Yea, sir. As you wish." Arthur held ready for another strike and was relieved as it never came. "Bien. Go and move your things to the shed, boy." Arthur nodded and turned, scurrying up the ladder and quickly wrapping his few meager posessions in a blanket. He twisted the corners of the woolen blanket together and dropped through the hatch, wincing as the bruised foot gave under him, rolling and making him lose his nimble footing. He tok a deep breath and trudged outside as his master handed the new boy three thick blankets, the like of which Arthur had only ever set hands to when he was tidying the inn's guest rooms for his master.