Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom. This kingdom did not span as wide as many others, but still held it's own in the world. In it, not far from the town that held the castle, was a decent sized estate and at this estate, there lived a young boy.

Matthew was full of wonder and energy. Just a small boy, he loved his two fathers to death. Although not originally apart of the family, he was showered with their love. They and their servants lived happily in the countryside.

"Papa!" Matthew hurried over to the kind-faced man with golden, shoulder-length hair.

His eyes softened as he looked at the child from where he sat, planting lilacs in the garden.

"Matthieu, mon lapin, de quoi avez-vous besoin?"

Matthew giggled at the French. He stopped in front of his father figure and smiled sweetly.

"Un câlin," Matthew exclaimed as he held his arms out, ready to be embraced with a mischievous look in his eyes.

His father, of course, took the bait. With an exasperated sigh, he put down his trowel and dusted off his hands. His arms wrapped tightly around the small body in front of him.

"Je t'aime, mon lapin."

"Je t'aime, Papa."

"Matthew! Francis! Lunch is ready!"

The two pulled apart and giggled at each other. Matthew ran ahead as Francis stood up to yell back an "on our way".

The plants around the circle rock platform were kept to perfection. Most of them were purple, but others spruced their way in. Matthew's favorites were his father's favorites: the roses at the ends of the driveway. They stood out to anyone who dared a glance.

The edges of the property were boarded with old brick and their animals roamed freely inside them. There were many servants who all enjoyed working for those who owned the house.

The breadwinner of the house was not usually seen out of his office, but when those times came, he was usually chipper. He was in an awfully good mood today as well.

Matthew stopped just short of the step where his other father figure stood. He bowed slightly, giggling softly.

"Sir Arthur," he poshly greeted. "I do believe you called."

"Oh, come now, if I ever live a day where the two of you don't make jabs at my accent, then I do believe something will have gone wrong."

Matthew laughed. When Francis' voice started up behind him, he ran inside.

Arthur just barely stifled his laugh.

"I do believe you have been decorated." Arthur pointed to his own shaggy hair to indicate the object in Francis'.

When Francis pulled back his hand to reveal a stem with lavender buds gracing the top of it, he smiled as simply placed it back.

"Am I beautiful," he questioned Arthur with a wink.

Arthur simply laughed and answered, "the most beautiful."

A giggle from the door frame and then padded steps seemed to fade down the hall.

Francis kissed him and they both walked inside after their adopted baby boy.

"Must you go so soon," Francis murmured into his husband's ear.

Matthew had been reading quietly in the sitting room as Arthur did the same. Francis had just entered and leaned over the couch enough to hug his husband and whisper the question.

"You're leaving," Matthew cried out, a distraught look on his face.

Arthur glared half-heartedly at his beloved. Francis just shrugged in return.

"I'm afraid so."

Arthur was a merchant. Leaving for long trips was a regular event and Matthew knew it was necessary but did not want it anymore.

"When will you come back this time?" Matthew all but whined.

"I should be back before the winter sets in."

Arthur winced knowing the chaos that would ensue after.

Both Francis and Matthew just about exasperated that it "was two months from now" and "why on God's green earth would it take so long". In all honesty, it was only a little longer than some of his shorter trips.

One of Arthur's hands went to massage his temples as the other reached for his husband's hand.

"You both know it is my job."

Matthew pouted, but nodded anyway and went to join his father on the couch. A hand tangled itself in his hair as he sat and waited for his sadness to pass.

The next few days were busy preparing. Matthew did everything possible to make sure that his father had a safe journey.

When the day came to see Arthur off, the family stood on the front porch, hugging each other goodbye. The aforementioned was trying very hard to keep himself together in front of his traveling crew.

"Father," Matthew managed through tears.

"Yes?"

Tiny hands held in them a dried rose as the small arms offered them to the man who had taken a knee in order to talk better with the child. "For luck. Papa helped me make it."

Arthur's face softened and tears were just nearly over the edge of his eyelid. He carefully took the rose and hugged his son. Pulling back, he kissed Matthew's forehead and stood up to do the same to Francis who caught him again on his lips.

The boys behind him whooped and hollered as Arthur's face grew red.

"Bug off," he yelled. Everyone laughed for a while before the goodbyes were finally said.

Some years of this continued. Matthew playing with the animals and talking animatedly with the servants in the yard. Many times the servants brought their own children and Matthew noted he would enjoy playing with them almost as much as he loved talking to and riding his horse. He had named it Kumajiro, although would fondly call it Kuma.

Francis had taught him. Soon, it became one of his favorite activities as did reading and playing the violin while watching his fathers dance around the parlor.

One day, happiness wavered. Francis had become bedridden. It was not sudden, but they had hidden it from Matthew. Matthew, however, had already gained the notion from the realization that Arthur had stopped leaving as often and, every once in a while, Matthew would spot the two lovers whispering to each other in low tones with worried looks.

He would offer to help make meals and carry trays to the room. He would often wonder how the vibrant blues of the walls could change to look so gray. When he saw Francis in the center of the room, he knew how. Arthur was often in the chair by the bed, dabbing at the sweat that had beaded there or praying while holding the hand of a sleeping lover.

Matthew would often brew Arthur pots of tea, as it was the only thing that seemed to slide down his throat.

When the time came close for Francis, he beckoned to Matthew.

"Mon lapin," he cooed. "Look at you. What a handsome young man you have become. So strong and kind." He took a shuddering breath, trying to hide the tears that were evident in the corners of his eyes. "You will do so much for this world." He thought for a moment. "I need you to make me three very important promises."

"Yes, Papa." Matthew's answer was quick and desperate.

"The first is to take care of this house and the people who are in it and who work for it. It is a very important house, passed down through generations. I'd hate to see it lose its life." Everyone looked at the room once more. Like magic, the beautiful blues had become as vibrant as before.

Tears filled Matthew's eyes as he nodded. "Of course, Papa."

"The second is to take care of your stubborn father. Him and his silly accent." The room was filled with saddened laughter as Matthew nodded once again.

"The third is to show your kindness to whomever you meet. I know it will get you so far just by itself. I also know you have the strength to get through anything and carry those around you as well."

Matthew was just barely holding himself together as he nodded again.

Francis hugged him and whispered, "I am so proud of you and what you will become."

Matthew sobbed into his father's nightgown. Arthur joined in their hug.

Later, Matthew would see the light filtering through the door as hushed voices talked through the night. Matthew sat outside their door, listening.

As the twilight grew into the dark and Matthew's eyes grew tired, he could hear one voice become less and less prevalent in the conversation. Just as his eyes bid him goodnight, sobs erupted behind the door. An hour later, he could feel someone carry him to bed and lay with him until they were both asleep.

Meanwhile, at a castle not far from the estate where young Matthew grew, there was a pair of young boys being watched over by their grandfather, the reigning king.

The youngest, Ludwig, was stoic and generally not good at socializing, although his brother seemed to be the one person who he had grown close to. Icy blue eyes and blond hair that was usually slicked back, even at such a young age, showed his seriousness.

The eldest, Gilbert, was a rambunctious and loud boy, but when the time came, he could be a flattering, princely young man. His white hair and pales skin contrasted greatly with his ruby red eyes. Many believe he would grow into a handsome young man.

Chapter Text

Growing up with the king as a father was tough, Gilbert knew many boys in that situation, but a grandfather as the king didn't make it any better. Guards were positioned everywhere preventing Gilbert from leaving or making too much of a mess.

His grandfather thought it was a wonderful idea to have a guard-in-training around his age positioned on him. He was currently glaring at that guard that was forbidding him from sneaking out that large and inviting window.

Ivan was a little taller than him and overall friendly until Gilbert tried to cross him.

Stomping over to his bed, he promptly face planted into it and groaned.

"It's sooo boring!"

"I suppose going for a stroll along the outskirts of the castle grounds would be okay as long as you did not run."

Way to suck the fun out of everything, Gilbert thought.

"I'm going to go visit my brother." He had put an emphasis on the I hoping that Ivan would have noticed and stayed behind. He lifted himself off the decadent bed and out of the large room. Once Ivan had started to follow, Gilbert added, "alone."

He heard Ivan yell half-heartedly behind him, "Do not leave the castle!"

"Whatever," was his reply as he turned around and stuck his tongue out.

He just wanted to actually see the towns he was supposed to one day rule. How was he supposed to become an awesome ruler if he couldn't even talk to his subjects? He let his knuckles fall onto the large door across the hall from his.

"One moment," came from inside.

The door opened not ten seconds later. Gilbert strolled in, his hand clasped behind his head.

"Burning the midnight oil I see," he said motioning to the schoolwork.

The rooms were set up similarly. As someone walked in, they were met with a large desk that had a side table and a pair of wooden chairs, where Gilbert was currently sitting, next to it. Across from the desk was a king-sized bed. The bedding was extravagant and expensive. Ludwig's was blue and his was red. On either side there were night-tables. On the wall with the door, there was a large closet that could easily fit five people inside. In the middle of the opposite wall was a window. In the corner of the room was a fireplace that was not currently lit due to the warmth of the outdoors despite the night chill.

Ludwig sat back down at his desk and continued to work. "If you bothered to do your schoolwork, maybe Folkert would let you wander around town."

"Yeah right," Gilbert countered sarcastically. "Like that old man would let the awesome me do anything besides die of boredom."

Ludwig smirked.

"You know where Antonio went?"

Antonio was Ludwig's guard and Gilbert's best friend at the palace. They were the main trouble makers when Antonio was off duty.

"He went back to the sleeping quarters for the day." Ludwig marked on his paper as he read through it.

Gilbert groaned. He drug his chair the short distance to the window and looked out at the town.

He could see the entrance to the palace. It was extravagant although not as much as others he had seen before. There was a fountain placed in the center of the circular drive. Past the gates, he could see the looming clock tower. It was always lit up at night. He could see a few people still walking about and the lights in the houses.

He envied this view. From his room, he could only see the guard's sleeping quarters and the fields that lay behind.

After Ludwig decided he was done working for the evening, Gilbert and his brother talked late into the night before both retired.

The house had grown quiet after Francis' death. Arthur became quiet and secluded. He would be gone more often than not. When a new departure came, Matthew would always make a good luck charm for him.

Matthew mostly read and helped the servants complete their daily tasks. He took many outings on Kuma and often let his mind wander. Matthew's violin was only played on rainy days, but it carried a joyful tune through the house, lifting the spirits of those in it. Arthur would often come out from hiding to listen to the music he once danced to happily.

One day, Matthew had grown awfully comfortable in the stables, leaning on his horse and reading out loud. He was close to falling asleep when a hand tapped his shoulder.

"Matteo?"

Matthew smiled as he spotted the two twins from the door of the barn.

"Do you need help with something?" Matthew responded, lifting and dusting himself off quickly.

"Just came to check on you," Feliciano cheered. "You had been in here for a while."

Lovino mumbled an "I told you he was fine, idiota" but the other didn't seem to mind.

Matthew laughed at the two as he started towards them.

They were similar in appearance but almost impossible to confuse. Their chestnut hair was almost the same color, Lovino's being a tad darker. They both had a stubborn curl that stuck out as well.

It was especially hard to confuse them once they started talking. Feliciano had a higher pitched voice and a much brighter speech pattern. On the other hand, many people spoke of Lovino's rude manner and sailor's mouth. Matthew knew that it was his way of affection.

The boys had grown near and dear to Matthew. They were all around the same age and the two often kept him company. They would often check up on him if he had grown quiet for too long or kept a far-off look for too long.

"I'm fine," Matthew paused in thought. "Would you two like to accompany me to the end of the road? I'd like to dry a rose for Father before he leaves again."

The two nodded. Feli led the way as Lovi and himself stayed behind and listened. Every once in a while, Lovi would mutter some objection or obscenities under his breath and Matthew would laugh under his breath.

Once they had returned to the house, Matthew noticed Arthur standing in the front door with a concerned look etched onto his face. They both took deep breaths to prepare for the conversation that was soon to come.

They walked quietly to the sitting room together. Arthur was deep in thought and Matthew did not want to disturb him. They sat in silence. Arthur began to say something many times, but thought better of it and closed his mouth again.

"Father," Matthew started. "Please tell me what you want to say. I promise I won't be upset."

Arthur nodded. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he began his rambling. "Do you remember Lady Esteves?" Matthew was about to answer but Arthur let him no time. "She has passed. Her husband has slipped into a deep depressive state and their two sons are left to themselves.

"I was thinking that maybe we could all take another shot at happiness together?" Arthur looked into Matthew's eyes with hope and pleading. He wanted to be forgiven, but he also wanted to try to become happy again.

Matthew nodded. "If you believe that happiness will fill your heart, I have no choice then, do I?" Matthew laughed and Arthur followed behind shortly.

When Arthur came back, he was wed. Another pair of boots following his father's out of the coach was odd in the first place, but to see another two was even stranger. Matthew smiled at his new family members. They almost seemed to glare back at him.

The two boys were bickering back and forth rather loudly and making rude comments about Matthew's appearance.

They were handsome, but anyone who had seen Matthew could easily point out that he had more points in the looks category than the two combined, although some would state he is more beautiful than handsome.

His step-father was dressed in all black that seemed to match his hair that has a few streaks of gray running through it. His thin frame and stiff posture reminded Matthew of the villains he read of in books. That thought quickly vanished when his father's smile came into view. It had been so long—too long—since Matthew had seen a smile that grand.

Arthur introduced him first. "This is my son, Matthew. Matthew, this is Calvin and Emery and their father Reagan."

Matthew nodded to each respectfully with a light smile on his face. "May I offer a tour?"

"A tour of this farm house?" Emery nearly spat.

"It's so drab."

"Boys," Reagan began. "Be kind. It's not like they had any say in where they lived."

Matthew looked off, especially to his two friends peaking up over the fence. The smile on his face was still etched there, but it looked highly uncomfortable and strained.

"Let me show you inside." His voice betrayed his feelings and came out calm and polite.

Matthew nearly sank into the parlor chair. The boys were upstairs in their new room and Arthur and Reagan were in the office. After all the off hand comments about decoration and the house itself being terrible, Matthew's head had begun to spin. His papa loved this house. It had been in the family for generations. How could these people just come in an degrade it like they did.

Matthew took a deep breath and stood to get some fresh air.

"Are you going somewhere?" Arthur stood behind just as he was about to leave for the stables.

"Not really. Do you need me for something?"

"We were just about to eat dinner. It will be the our first one together." Arthur's beaming face was the only thing that kept Matthew from frowning. His father looked so happy after all.

"Of course."

Dinner was loud. A lot louder than any Matthew had before, even when he had lunch with the servants. His head pounded as the two boys laughed at another snide comment.

Matthew hadn't eaten much. He just moved a couple of pieces of food around his plate so it seemed like he had much more.

He excused himself from the table and went to the kitchen to clean his dishes so the others wouldn't have to in the morning.

Once back in the dinning room, he excused himself for bed. He was met with objections saying that it was too early for sleep.

His smiled stayed etched onto his face as he agreed to join them for a while longer.

A while longer ended up being another six hours. It was two in the morning and Matthew's eyes had grown almost too heavy to keep open. He convinced himself that he would have to do this more often and to get used to it.

The boys were still incredibly energetic and Matthew had no idea how. The night had mostly just been them rambling and getting into fights every so often.

"Matthew, dear, you look so tired." It was Reagan's voice that interrupted his gentle fall into sleep with his head propped up on his hand.

"I usually go to bed much earlier. I am enjoying staying up with you though." He didn't want them to think they were boring him.

As if Reagan hadn't been staring at the clock for the past hour, he muttered an "oh" and simply said it was time for bed.

The boys complained, but Matthew let out a quiet sigh in relief that was quickly followed by a yawn as he led the others to their rooms, saying a goodnight to each of them.

Arthur followed him to his own room and they held a short conversation about nothing before Arthur went to bed himself, following Reagan into the room that his papa used to sleep in.

Something felt off to Matthew, but he decided to ignore it.

He got got ready for bed and them promptly fell face first onto his bed and slept like that until morning.

Matthew was an early riser. He always went to collect eggs from the hen house and help with the other chores like washing dishes or feeding the animals. It was his favorite part of the day.

It did not seem like anyone else was awake yet. The servants had all arrived and Matthew greeted each of them with a smile. Today was a new day after all.

Around noon was when his brothers got up. Matthew found that it mostly involved a lot of screaming and a whole hour of getting ready. Arthur and Reagan had gotten up two hours earlier.

The rest of the day passed like normal with only a few minor inconveniences. For instance, when Matthew went to read his book, he found it extremely hard to concentrate with the two boys yelling at each other somewhere else in the house.

The days went on like this. Matthew switched up some of his schedule, but otherwise found a comfortable rhythm that allowed him to get his usually activities done without many distractions from the two boys or his new step-father.

In the evenings, he found that his new step-family liked to turn the house into a gambling cave. Matthew and Arthur would spend this time in the study talking until Matthew would decide to go to bed.

The first day it rained, Matthew was at a loss of what to do. His usual activity which involved playing his violin was taken over with more arguments from the boys who especially hated rainy days.

The day seemed more somber, particularly to the servants who found it hard to work with only the droning of rain on the roof.

A whole two months continued on like this. A whole two months of screaming and shouting from Calvin and Emery. A whole two months of violin-less rainy days and gambling nights.

During an evening, while Arthur and Matthew talked in the office, he mentioned a trip.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow." Arthur looked ashamed. When he looked at Matthew, all he saw was sorrow.

"I just got the news today. An urgent topic of interest has come up and I have to get to it. You understand, don't you?"

Matthew nodded.

"What would you like? Your brothers have asked for face cream and a new silk tie."

"May I think about it?"

"Of course." Arthur smiled at the boy. "You'll take care of them won't you?"

Matthew looked up at his father who's eyes were focused on the door, seeming to look beyond it.

"Despite themselves, you'll take care of them, right?" Desperate eyes were turned to him. "They may be a bit loud, but they've brought life back into this house."

Matthew smiled and nodded again. "Of course I will."

With that, Arthur sent Matthew off to bed.

"I'm sorry Father. I was unable to dry a rose in time." Matthew eyes held tears. Arthur took his son's face and gently cleared them. They were standing on the porch now. It was another rainy day. If one looked, they could see the faces of two servant brothers pressed against the windows watching the scene.

"I understand. It would have been impossible for me to preserve it as well as you do."

Matthew smiled.

"What would you like from this far off village?"

"In the first town you reach, ask for a drink of water. Bring me back the name of the person who gives it to you."

"What a peculiar request. May I ask?"

"So I can hear the name roll off your tongue with your silly accent," Matthew practically laughed it out, but its twinge of sadness was evident.

"If there is ever a day I don't get made fun of for my accent, I know something is wrong." Arthur didn't really realize he had said the words until they were out. It was a reflex, but it felt foreign. Almost like riding a bike that you hadn't ridden in too many years.

Two sets of eyes glossed over in tears before they hid themselves from each other in a hug.

"I'll miss you, Matthew."

"I'll miss you too, Father."

Reagan, Calvin, and Emery all stood back in the corridor. The two boys almost scoffing at the scene before them.

Inside the house, Feliciano looked to his brother with a frown. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Lovino nodded. "Me too."

Chapter Text

"Come on!" Gilbert whined. "Please?" He had his two hands clasped together and was practically begging.

Ludwig caved. "Fine. But ask Grandfather first."

Gilbert groaned but ran out the door to his grandfather's room excitedly. He knew that if he did not ask his grandfather, Ludwig would find out and not let him in his look out his window while he was grounded.

"Hey, Gramps?" Gilbert knocked on the door. A man who looked similar to Ludwig, but older and with much longer hair, came out to greet him.

The gruff look on his face told that he was in the middle of something when he interrupted. Gilbert winced and apologized quietly.

"Can I go out with Antonio today? I've finished my work and I'll be sure not to make a ruckus. It's even rainy! No one's going to be outside to see me anyway," Gilbert pleaded.

"Fine."

Well, that was easy.

Whether his grandfather just wanted him to stop pestering him or was actually being complacent, Gilbert didn't know. He was happy none-the-less.

He stopped by his room to tell Ivan he would be with Ludwig today while he ran to the kitchen to find his friend.

"Toni?!" Gilbert knew the kitchen would be empty at this time of day so he yelled the name freely.

A head stuck out of the pantry. It's short curly hair and soft green eyes seemed to glow in the general darkness of the room. He walked out when he noticed who was calling for him.

"Hey amigo! Are we good to go?"

Gilbert nodded and laughed as Antonio swallowed the rest of the tomato he was munching on.

They arrived in town just as it had stopped raining. They laughed along the paths. Gilbert was enjoying stretching his legs and seeing the sights of the town. Every so often, they'd stop in a store and buy something small.

They got to the center of town and stopped to rest for a while by the fountain that sat in the middle. The foot traffic picked up since the hour they were in town and the square was bustling.

Laughter surrounded the two as they sat there. Gilbert was happy just to watch it all. It was so different from his life in the castle. He wanted desperately to become part of the everyday hustle.

Horses and wagons, people selling goods, friends walking and chatting with each other. Gilbert wanted nothing more than to join in.

Antonio, who had noticed the man next to him go quiet, pulled him up and started to converse with someone right in front of them.

Gilbert enjoyed the chat with the man. After a while, the man asked, "May I please get a cup of water from the fountain?"

Gilbert cackled and nodded, turning around to get it.

Handing the man the cup, he watched as he took a sip and smiled setting the dipper back down on the fountain's edge.

"May I ask your name?"

"Gilbert," he bowed slightly. "And may I ask yours?"

"Arthur," the man replied. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"The honor is mine."

The two laughed and Antonio soon joined in.

After a while longer, the man departed. Antonio and Gilbert decided to head back to the castle before they caused any trouble and upset the king.

After watching his father leave, Matthew entered the house slowly.

Reagan, who was sitting near the entrance beckoned him near and he joined him on the couch. A hug was given and for a second, Matthew felt comforted.

Pulling away, he muttered, "Thank you, Step-father."

"You mustn't call me that," Reagan said, moving a hair out of Matthew's eyes. "Sir will do just fine."

For an instant, a quizzical look passed over Matthew's face. It was soon gone and replaced with a kind and respectful smile. He repeated himself. "Thank you, sir."

Just then, the two boys passed, arguing like always.

"I believe they find the room they share confining. It is their first time without having rooms of their own."

Matthew thought for a second. Maybe he could help. "My room is the biggest besides yours and fathers. Maybe they would like to share it instead."

Reagan looked very pleased and Matthew couldn't help but feel slightly proud of himself. "How kind you are."

"And I can stay in their r—"

"You can stay in the attic! A marvelous idea. Thank you so much, dear." Reagan ruffled his hair.

"The attic?" Matthew faltered.

Walked to the parlor and Matthew followed close behind. "Only temporarily while I have the house redecorated. It'll be much nicer here and you won't be bothered as much by us.

Reagan bent down and picked up his violin. "And you can keep this nonsense up there with you."

Matthew's smile faltered as he took the violin that was given to him by his papa. "Of course."

He moved out quickly.

The stairs to the attic were old and hadn't been stepped on in years. Part of Matthew wondered if when he'd step on them, they'd break. He'd carried his stuff to the bottom of the stairwell and now, looking up, he wished he could just stay here.

Reagan had caught him standing there. "Up you go now. There should be plenty of room." Matthew could practically hear the smirk in his voice but thought it a trick of the ear.

He nodded, but didn't dare look at the face he was sure was still watching him. Grabbing a box, he slowly ascended, careful not to miss a step lest he tumble all the way back down.

Finally reaching the rickety platform, Matthew shifted the box to his hip in order to open the door.

The musty smell made him cough but he went inside regardless. Setting down the first box, he went over to a small couch and dusted it off, sitting down. Finding it rather comfortable, he looked around the room. It was completely wooden with no decorations. A window showed the front of the house and there were several old barrels and containers that Matthew was sure hadn't been opened, or touched for that matter, in years.

He looked up at the door, reminding himself that he still had to carry the rest up.

Suddenly, two figures appeared.

"This is ridiculous. How absolutely stupid."

"It's so dusty!"

Matthew rolled his eyes and smiled at the twins who were each carrying a box of their own.

He tried desperately to hide the tears in his eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem Matteo!" Feliciano put down his box and opened it to find Matthew's violin. "Won't you play for us?"

The two sat down on the couch as Matthew took the violin. He stood in the light of the window and drug the bow across the strings slowly at first. Once reacquainted, he began a merry tune.

For just those moments, Matthew and the twins found themselves very immensely happy despite their surroundings.

Nothing about Matthew's early mornings changed. He still enjoyed helping with the everyday chores and greeting everyone as they arrived to start their days.

The boys, who were now sharing Matthew's old bedroom, still seemed to be uneasy and uncomfortable with each other, especially in the mornings.

Matthew often snickered when one decided to attempt to play the harpsichord in the parlor or draw a portrait. They both failed so miserably. He did not mean to be rude, so he often held his joy at the look in Reagan eyes that said, "Dear Lord, kill me now."

Anytime Reagan caught him staring, he'd chastise Matthew. Emery and Calvin would usually snicker from behind their father.

Still, his promise to both his father and his papa would come back to him. It was important that he remained kind to these people. They were his family now as well.

In the process of being yelled at, Reagan had knocked a book off the table. After the session of anger, Matthew picked it up and placed in the bookshelf. He sighed to himself and went outside for some fresh air.

On his way out, he noticed Reagan smirking at him. It made him extremely nervous.

The twins were in the stables, ready to provide the comfort he needed.

A knock sounded on the door. It was odd to get visitors at such an hour, but Matthew opened the for regardless.

To say he was shocked was an understatement. Standing in front of him was one of Arthur's travel companions. He looked troubled, a strange look on the man due to his usually energetic nature.

"Monsieur Logan, how good to see you." Matthew could feel tears forming but he tried to push them back.

Behind him, he heard his step-father and brothers gather.

"Matthew," Logan took off his hat, revealing his brown, slicked back hair. "I regret to inform you," he paused for a moment, taking the time to compose himself and chose his next words carefully. "Your father had grown ill on the road. He's gone." A tear slipped down his own cheek as he looked up to Matthew.

The boy looked distraught but quickly pulled himself together.

"At the end, he spoke of you and your father alone. He loved you both dearly. He told me to tell you that Gilbert was such a nice man. He even talked for a while with him." He handed Matthew a piece of paper that was folded neatly into thirds.

In the background, Matthew heard grumbles of missing face creams and ties as he looked to the floor.

Reagan soon spoke, "We're ruined! We'll have to dismiss the servants! We have no money!"

The three strode down the hallway in anger.

Matthew looked up to Logan. A tear trail connected Matthew's watery eyes to his trembling, but still smiling lips. "Thank you. That must have taken a lot of courage. Good day."

Matthew slowly backed away from the door and closed it.

Logan turned around slowly. He felt like he saw something he shouldn't have. That face should never have felt such pain and the people behind it should have never been allowed to stand there and say such things.

Matthew stood behind the door, his head pressed against it as he tried again to compose himself.

He slowly carried himself to his room and sat on the dusty couch, slowly opening the letter.

Dear Matthew,

Apologies for not being there to say his name in my funny accent. Gilbert was a kind fellow, although a bit odd. His friend started talking to me first, but he was the one who had given me the water and as per your request, his name as well.

I hope you understand how wonderful a person you are. I feel I should have stayed back for you. I wonder if I would have been able to see you in my last moments. Instead, I have to stare at this ugly lot.

Francis would have been so proud of you. I miss him dearly and, to be frank, I cannot wait to see his gentle, smiling face again. I know he'll tease me. You should know I'm preparing a witty comeback for whatever he can throw.

Francis believed your roses held all the luck in the world, and I believe so as well. This only goes to prove it. Do not feel bad though. We all knew this day would come and it is no one's fault. Not even my own.

Please take care of them in my absence. Please take care of the home that your papa cherished so dearly. And please never chance that kind man you have grown to be.

I love you so much.

You Father,

Arthur Kirkland

P.S. Please continue playing your violin. We'll be dancing, I swear.

Matthew smiled tearfully as he continued to reread the letter and cry until he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Matthew had tears in his eyes.

"I'll miss you so much." He hugged all of the servants who had shown up to bid him farewell. They had all already gotten their letters of release, but that did not seem to stop them from coming around once more to let Matthew see them off.

When it came to the last two people, Matthew couldn't help but cry.

"Matteo," it was said between sniffles. "You must come to see us in the city sometime."

"Don't think I can handle this idiota by myself."

Matthew smiled as he hugged each of them. He put a hand on Feliciano's shoulder. "I'll definitely come to visit." Turning to Lovino, he smiled and said, "Try your best not to kill him."

The two boys hugged him again. Finally, Matthew stopped them and gave them each a dried rose. "Thank you so much for being there for me. I wish you two all the luck in the world."

With that, they were off. Matthew was left alone at the back gate of the yard.

Matthew took over the chores. Usually done by multiple people, he stayed up late into the night and woke up early in the morning trying to keep the work from getting too out of hand.

Feeding the animals was done first and foremost. It was still Matthew's favorite part of the day. Everyone was still sleeping so he did not have to listen to the chastising or the arguing. If he woke up early enough, he would even sneak a book to read for a while.

Dressing Reagan was done around seven in the morning. Matthew would bring a tray with jasmine tea, an egg, and a slice of bread. Reagan would eat in bed first before going to the dressing area of the room he had set up so that Matthew could slide the outfit on him.

Matthew couldn't help but notice the changes that Reagan had made to the room. The once light blue color had been replaced with a dark, deep red. The windows were basically covered making the only light coming from the fixtures above the bed and beside the mirrors that lined the wall next to the door.

Next was the laundry. Matthew considered this to be the trickiest part of the day. He'd have to sneak into the boys' room so to gather their clothing. It was not a matter of not waking them up, but one of which clothes they had actually worn. After scrubbing those and hanging them to dry, he'd start on lunch.

The boys would get up on their own, but Matthew helped them dress as well. It would take a while longer before the boys came down due to their "morning routine".

Sometimes, he'd have enough time to visit with Kumajiro before going back into the ruckus filled house and setting the table for lunch.

While they were eating, Matthew dusted, swept, and mopped. This allowed him to avoid seeing the family eating. When he went back to the dining room, he cleared the plates and such, washing the dishes and the table. He'd then clean that room and start preparing dinner.

During dinner, Matthew would often fill the odd jobs that the others had found throughout the day, like polishing shoes or reorganizing the bookshelf by author or genre or title.

At the end of the day, Matthew made himself a meal out of the leftovers as if Reagan spotted him eating throughout the day, he would be reprimanded in a more violent way than Matthew would have thought the spindly man capable of. He would eat his dinner against Kuma, feeding him most of the food.

At times, the attic was too cold to sleep in, so Matthew took a blanket out to the stables and slept against his horse. The warmth and steady fall and rise of the breathing comforted Matthew as his eyelids closed.

One day, Matthew found that he had sat with Kuma for a bit too long before going back inside to finish preparing lunch.

He was thankful when he had just finished setting the table when the boys and their father came down.

"I think Chamomile tea this morning would be rather nice, don't you boys?" Reagan looked back at the twins and then at Matthew who had just stood up from mending the fire.

Sitting down, Reagan made a comment that surprised Matthew.

"What is that in your hair?" At some point, it seemed like they hadn't actually taken the time to look at Matthew anymore. It was like he had become an invisible part of their lives.

His hand went up to his hair and he winced when it came back with hay. It must have gotten there from conversing with Kuma in the stables.

"Hay," Matthew muttered.

"Hay! Ew!" Emery's face was filled with disgust, but it held a smile there as well.

"I hope it's not in our food," Calvin gave their platters a skeptical look.

"Do remember to bathe next time Matthew."

Emery's face lit up as if he was just reminded of something hilarious.

"Grass-ew!" Emery was ignored for different comments on the new name they should give him.

"Fodd-ew," Calvin chimed in, laughing.

"Grass-ew!" Emery looked to his father. "Can't we call him that, Father! It'll be fun!"

The boys laughed as Reagan looked on with a smirk.

"Grass-ew it is. A fitting name for such filth." Reagan glanced almost pitifully at him. "Son of a servant. It seems to me like he should be treated like one as well."

The boys beside him snickered.

"Servants aren't to be treated as such and my fathers were no servants." Matthew almost glared at the man in front of him. It had been the first time to stand up to Reagan. As soon as Reagan began speaking again, he backed down to this new form of pity he had become.

"Oh, but your mother was theirs. She died in childbirth. Your twin too actually. Quite sad I should say." Reagan examined his fingernails, picking out a small piece of grime he had found. "And the father had died right before. They had no choice but to take you in. You were really a burden, weren't you?"

Matthew held in his tears. "Chamomile tea, was it sir?"

"Hurry with it too."

Matthew held himself back from running out of the room. Deep breathes he told himself.

Matthew made the tea and left it on the small table that sat outside the room. He knocked once and quickly left, running towards the stables.

Climbing onto Kuma, he'd realized how long it had been since they had gone out for a ride.

He rode quickly past the gates and the such until Matthew had partly lost his way. Suddenly, Kuma was frighted by a stag in the forest just past a clearing.

A bugle sounded and suddenly, Matthew realized what trouble this animal was in. He looked it in the eyes.

"Run," he whispered. "You must go! Hurry!"

The stag looked quizzically for a moment before hurriedly hopping away.

Matthew smiled as Kuma ran after. The stag was behind them now, but Kuma would not stop running.

Gilbert hated hunting for sport.

He felt that the food would be much better going to those in the kingdom, but knew that he had to impress the nobleman who had come along with him today. His brother, Ivan, and Antonio were with him along with some other men.

Gilbert hoped that today was one of those days when they did not find anything.

The one thing Gilbert did love was the chase. It peaked his adrenaline. His horse galloping through the fields, wind rushing in his ears, his eyes on the lookout for anything that moved.

He did not, however, expect his eyes to catch another rider that was definitely not apart of his group. The stark white horse ran with such vigor, and the rider wore a plain white shirt that seemed slightly dirty and a pair of light brown pants. It was noticeably different than the guards red and black coats with light grey pants.

Gilbert veered off his course towards the rider who looked to be having an awful lot of trouble slowing down his horse.

"Sir! Sir! Do you need help?! Are you alright?!" Gilbert was yelling.

As he pulled up beside the man, he could hear protests of, "I'm alright, thank you" and "I've got this under control."

Gilbert laughed as he helped slow down the horse.

"Yeah, you really looked like you had that under control."

"I was doing plenty fine. You've just about scared the life out of him!"

Gilbert stopped and looked around. "Who?"

"The stag!" The defiant look on the man's face struck Gilbert as odd. At this moment, Gilbert got a better look at the eyes of the already beautiful boy. Another laugh tore through him.

"I apologize for laughing. If it were up to me, I wouldn't hunt anyhow. It is just as good that we have frighted him so he would run."

The boy nodded.

"What do they call you?"

The boy looked distraught for a moment. "Never mind me." A smile took over his face right after the words left his mouth. "What about you?"

"You don't recognize me?"

"No. Should I?"

Gilbert laughed. This was a perfect chance to be that normal person he had wanted to become for so long. "No, I guess not. I just thought anyone would be able to guess the name as someone as awesome as me!"

Another laugh, this time, it was joined by one from the boy.

"Awfully self-righteous, are we?"

"The name's Gilbert. You can call me Gil, my friends do." Gilbert held out his hand for the man to shake.

The boy shook it gingerly with a sad, far off look in his eye. A small amount of the fabric coming up around the wrist to show dirt or light bruising.

"And where do you live, Mr. Gilbert?" The boy seemed to have snapped out of his daze causing Gilbert to realize he was staring.

"At the palace." Well, that just slipped out, didn't it? "My grandfather is teaching me and my brother his trade."

"An apprentice?!" The boy looked impressed. Was being an apprentice really that impressive.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Do they treat you well?"

"Yes, although they keep me locked up and busy with paperwork most of the time. I find it would be nice to spend more time in the town."

The boy nodded.

"How about you?"

"The same I guess. Less paperwork though." The sentence struck Gilbert as odd and it held a slightly sad tone despite the smile that was still etched into his face.

"I'm sorry." Gilbert felt he should say something and that was pretty much the only thing he could come up with.

"It's not your doing. Besides, taking care of people is what we must do, isn't it?"

"Yes, I guess so."

A bugle sounded again.

Gilbert noticed the anxious look on the boy's face. "Don't worry. He's long gone by now. We were heading back soon anyway."

The boy nodded.

Just then, three other horses entered the clearing.

"There you are, brother."

"We must be going now, your hi-"

"It's Gilbert! Gil! It's Gil!"

Gilbert could see Ivan and Antonio share a look.

Antonio nearly fell off his horse laughing as Ivan turned back to him with an absolute shit-eating grin on his face. "Of course. Gil. We must be getting back."

"The awesome me will be right there so wait a minute!"

The boy hid is laugh behind his hand. "It was so nice meeting 'the awesome you'."

"Likewise." He held out his hand again and the boy shook it more openly this time. "I hope to see you again."

A small blush covered the boy's cheeks. "Likewise," the words mimicked his own.

Gilbert rode out of the clearing laughing, looking back to see the boy just sitting there, staring at him ride away.

"Gil, was it?" Ivan poked him.

"Oh, shut up!"

Chapter Text

Matthew smiled as he watched the man ride away. He was awfully handsome. His eyes and hair were both peculiar colors, but Matthew thought they made him even more attractive.

He blushed to himself, realizing his thought process and rode away from the small clearing where he had just met the very peculiar man.

Matthew decided he didn't want to go home just yet. He knew he might be in store for something if he didn't get back before dinner, but he had four good hours until then and cleaning didn't sound like the right action.

He decided to ride towards town. That way, he could make the excuse he had to pick up a few items for dinner while stopping to see two dear friends.

He tied Kuma to the horse's post in town and walked the rest of the way to the new restaurant the twins had opened.

A bell on the top of the door sang as he walked in. They had gotten a decent spot near the center of town for fairly cheap. To no surprise, the shop was nearly full despite being three in the afternoon. Matthew remembered the meals that the two could create.

The waiter, who knew the drill by now, lead him to the kitchen doors.

Inside, Matthew sat on a stool and waited until the bustle of the kitchen slowed to a low roar.

Feliciano was the first to come over to him.

"Matteo! È bello vederti! Come sei stato?"

"Bien. Et toi?"

"Occupato."

Matthew nodded. An eager smile had been stuck on his face since he had entered the restaurant.

"Are you just joining to sit there or will you tell us why you are here? You obviously want to say something!" Lovino rolled his eyes as he approached the two.

Matthew laughed. "I hope I wasn't being too obvious."

Lovino mumbled, "I'm sure even Feli could tell."

To which Feliciano added, "I could."

They all snickered.

"So tell us! What happened to make you so antsy?" Feliciano sat on the edge of his stool.

"It sounds so stupid now," Matthew started. "I was riding in the forest today when Kuma suddenly wouldn't slow down and this kind man named Gilbert helped me to a stop." His face grew hot.

"Ooooh! Matteo's got a crush!" Feli's hands went to his cheeks as he nearly squealed.

"What else did you get on him? You can't just tell me you only got a name."

Matthew smiled, ready to divulge any information to the two. "He is an apprentice at the palace. He told me he doesn't get out often, but he wants to. And he had such peculiar features. Red eyes. White hair. Pale skin." Matthew sighed.

The two twins exchanged looks.

"What?"

"Nothing," Lovino spoke before Feliciano got the chance. "Now stop gushing. We don't need a lovesick fool contaminating our food."

Matthew laughed.

"So, why did you end up in the forest?" An "ouch" quickly followed that comment as Feli's brother promptly slapped him on the back of the head.

Matthew winced and turned his head away. "Nothing much."

He had stopped telling the twins what went on in that house a long time ago. It wasn't that he felt uncomfortable with them, but that he knew that if they knew what was going on, they wouldn't let Matthew stay in that house any longer. But Matthew believed he had to cherish that house for his passed family. He understood those living in it now did not.

"That's okay Matteo. Would you like a small snack before you head out?"

Matthew turned back, smiling and nodded. "Of course."

Gilbert paced in front of his grandfather.

"He was amazing! Absolutely beautiful!"

"Gilbert."

"So nice and caring."

"Gilbert would you please—"

"Almost matched my awesomeness, you know?"

"Gilbert! Would you let me talk?!"

Gilbert stayed silent.

"Mein Gott. You do realize you've only met him once, right?"

"Well, yeah. But it seemed like we've known each other forever, you know? We joked and laughed and it was awesome! Besides, you said you knew right away when you met our grandfather."

"That was different. He was royalty."

"So what?! It would do the kingdom good to feel like they have someone they can trust in power!"

"They can't trust you?"

"They don't know us! We've only been here because you married in!"

"Do you even know his name?"

"No," Gilbert pouted for a moment. "But that's not a problem. We've planned a ball, have we not?"

"Yes," the stoic man replied, with a frown on his face. "Shouldn't you be going to get your painting done?"

"Yeah, yeah. This discussion isn't over!" Gilbert walked out to find Ivan who was there with Ludwig and Antonio as well as his royal advisor, Elizaveta. Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"That sounded like it went really well," Ivan looked like he was having a wonderful time teasing him.

"Whatever," Gilbert glared at him.

"You know as much as anybody that I love seeing people get together, but he provides no assets to the kingdom. A princess would allow for a merge of kingdoms for greater territory or money or what-not." Elizaveta tried her best not to reason with the man.

"I think he'll be a good form of bondage to this land. It'll do good for the people to see that."

Elizaveta nodded as Gilbert got onto the wooden saddle so the painter could begin his work.

"I understand that. I really will try my best. What if," she trailed off, putting her hand to her chin to think. Everyone noticed as soon as she got an idea; her smile had turned devious. "What if we open the ball to all people, including the kingdom?"

"Do you think he'd come?"

"There's a chance, right amigo? You must take it!"

Gilbert smiled at them before being yelled at by the painter to stay still.

"It's decided then! We'll make the announcement to the public this evening! I'll inform Roderich and your grandfather immediately." Elizaveta rushed off.

Back in town, Matthew had just stepped foot out of the restaurant, when a man in the middle of the square started to make his announcement.

"On this day, two weeks in, there shall be held, at the palace, a royal ball." The man's booming voice made itself known easily to the crowd. "At said ball, in accordance with ancient customs, the prince shall choose a partner. Furthermore, at the insistence of the prince, it is hereby declared that every person in the kingdom, be they noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble king."

At the door, Feli looked to him excitedly. "You can see him again!"

Matthew nodded with a smile on his face and a tint of hope in his eyes.

"I've got to rush home now. Dinner needs to be finished by sundown."

They parted ways and Matthew rode home. Excited to tell the news and maybe, just maybe, be given the opportunity to go to the ball.

He entered through the back doors and quickly began to clear the table and clean it. Soon, dinner was started and then finished.

Matthew stood in the corner while they ate, waiting to be called on to speak.

"Grass-ew, why on earth do you continue to stand there?"

"I believe I should inform you. There was an announcement today in the square an-"

"Why were you in the square?"

"I had to get a few supplies for dinner."

A sneer was directed towards him. "Continue."

"The prince has invited all subject to the ball as he searches for a partner."

Silverware clattered onto the plates. Silence for a moment and then chaos. Matthew wished he hadn't told them for a moment.

The boys were practically screaming nonsense. Matthew could only make out "prince-this" or "marry-that". Reagan sat with a calm and calculated look although his eyes were wider than normal.

"Shut up!" Matthew jumped at the sudden exclamation. Reagan turned his head towards Calvin and Emery. "One of you must win the heart of the prince. Then, we can finally rid ourselves of this horrid house and lifestyle."

The boys screamed again and Reagan smiled at them.

Turning his head, scaring Matthew, he spoke again. "Why are you still here?"

Taking a large breath in, Matthew began to speak. "I was wondering if maybe I could go?"

Crap. Reagan looked positively pissed. He stood up from the table and Matthew began to panic.

"You see, I have this friend who lives there and I would really like to see him again. He is an apprentice. I wouldn't even go near the prince, there is no need to worry about something like that. I would just like to see a friend again I swear!"

Nothing that Matthew said had stopped Reagan in his approaching nor his beating shortly after.

Matthew laid there, hurt on the floor for the rest of the loud dinner. They had carried on like he wasn't there. Enjoying the food he had prepared as if he was not hurt in the middle of the room.

Before Reagan and the boys left, the stood over him. Calvin and Emery both kicked him in his stomach before going off to bed.

"Tomorrow, go to town with the boys to get them each fabric. From now until then, you shall make three fine suits. One for Calvin. One for Emery. And one for me."

With that, Matthew was left alone.

He didn't get up for the next couple of hours.

Finally, when the sun was completely set and the house had grown dark, he lifted himself from the floor and started collecting dishes. He brought them to the kitchen and made a snack for Kuma before heading out to the stables to be comforted by the light nudges given to his hands and face while he cried.

Gilbert was giddy. He went to Ludwig's room to watch the town. He wondered where the mystery boy lived as he sat up late into the night and technically early the next morning.

He fell asleep on the window sill. When Ludwig nudged him awake, he saw a slightly worried smile on the normally straight face.

"Go back to your room and sleep for a while longer. I'll make up an excuse for you just this once."

Gilbert stood, looked to his brother with very apparent bags under his eyes, and nodded a silent 'thank you' before going across the hall and climbing into his own bed.

Chapter Text

Gilbert was nearly pushed off his bed a couple of hours later.

"Hey!"

Ivan was on the other side, trying to hide his laughs behind his hand.

"Rise and shine!" His cheeky smile afterward only proved to make Gilbert ready for the day ahead.

Today was sparring day.

As soon as Ivan left the room, Gilbert threw on his outfit and nearly ran to the training section of the castle. He caught up quickly with Ivan and they raced the rest of the way to the sparring center.

The sparring center consisted of grey, brick walls with the occasional hanging banner of the castle crest. Other than that, the floor held a general mat so that anyone who fell wouldn't fall onto the hard floor and possibly injure themselves even more.

The drew their swords, fake for the use of sparring, and went to a free spot in the already fairly full room.

Gilbert cackled and Ivan let out an unearthly laugh. Most of the others stopped to watch the two in their match as it could become increasingly impressive as the two fought.

Ivan, in a short time, had become general. He was the first general so young but held his status with authority, making sure no one thought he wasn't suitable for the job because of his age.

Now having plenty of room, Gilbert announced the beginnings of their fight with an annoying prompt that none of the other guards would throw at Ivan unless they had a death wish that involved torture.

Ivan lunged at him, knowing the comment was meant to arouse anger and trying to keep calm. He found himself failing in the first moments of the fight before collecting himself and blocking a well-aimed blow for his abdomen.

No one in the room doubted the two could fight well. In fact, anyone who went against either one found that they were easily beaten within the first thirty seconds. When the two faced each other, the soldiers said it depended on the day.

Today, was not Gilbert's day. After getting a bad bout of sleep due to his restlessness towards the upcoming ball, the thoughts of uncertainty that his new found love would come were still implanted in his mind.

After five minutes of their swords clashing together, his thoughts returned to him, causing him to falter. A soft touch connected with his neck and Ivan, who usually held a smile when he won, looked at him strangely.

"Your head is in the clouds, I see."

"I believe your head has been in the clouds since your growth spurt three years ago."

Ivan rolled his eyes as they stepped out of the room, being greeted by two men holding towels which each of them took with a nod and wiped their face. The two went back over to the corner where another man was standing with more towels for whoever came out of the room next.

"Da. Whatever you wish to say to make you feel better about your own hight."

A jab was sent into Ivan's ribs. Sure, it hurt, but it was more friendly than painful so he let it off with a push of his own.

This resulted in a laugh from both Gilbert and Ivan. Both laughs turned strained.

"You're nervous." There was no question in his voice. "There is no need for nervousness. He will come. And if he doesn't, we will find him."

"Just how are we supposed to do that?"

"Simple. There can only be a few houses near that clearing right. He didn't seem to be prepared for a long ride considering the bare-back horse."

Gilbert nodded. "Why not just get him now then?"

"Let us see if he comes to you first. I believe he will. Besides, showing up may seem creepy to him."

Gilbert paused for a moment.

"What about the old man? You know he won't have me marry anyone but royalty."

Ivan shrugged, seemingly deciding that it wasn't that big of a deal. "Maybe he'll change his mind."

Gilbert nodded again, a thoughtful look on his face.

"He seemed hurt when I first saw him."

"It could have just been from the horse."

"There was a bruise though. Bruises don't just appear."

"Hopefully nothing serious then."

"Hopefully."

Matthew woke up surprisingly early the next morning.

He was tired but found it impossible to sleep with the pain that his sides felt. He stood, shakily at first, but then grounded himself as he set to work on his daily activities.

By the time the boys woke up, he was reminded of his main task for today and the next couple days: buying and sewing suits.

His papa had taught him a long time ago, and even now, Matthew made his own clothes. When his father died and funds grew low, Reagan found this skill helpful and made full use of it.

Matthew didn't mind it because of the wonderful memories it brought back to him.

He always dreaded buying the fabrics, although he would be glad when it was finally out of the way.

He stretched, trying to wake himself up before preparing lunch. He let his hands fall into place and start cooking. The boys had nearly ripped his hair out that morning. He had been placed in the middle of one of their fights while the two were trying to battle it out using him at the rope in a strange game of tug-a-war.

He felt exhausted already and he was certainly dreading the day that was to be spent with them. Getting back to cooking, he realized his left hand had been situated on the pot to hold it in place and he held in his scream as he quickly pulled back his hand, submerging it in the lukewarm water he had left in the basin last night.

He was losing his head. The many sleepless nights that resulted from "not enough work being done" caused him to make multiple silly errors through the day. He had never thought something this stupid would result from it.

Matthew realized he couldn't let his hand soak forever so he went back to making lunch, trying to ignore the pain.

He set the table before they came in, optimistic that he could hide his hand until it healed. Calling them down to eat, he ran off to another part of the house, looking to get work done.

About an hour later, he was called on to leave the house with the brothers. He tactfully hid the palm of his hand. He hooked Kuma to the carriage and took them into town.

The whole way there, he listened to them fight in the carriage. They nearly tumbled over themselves getting out when they finally reached their destination. Matthew stifled his laughter but many others did not.

The brothers didn't notice anyway as they were still too busy arguing.

Matthew led them to the fabric store that he was able to leave the carriage somewhat close to.

The boys ran through the door as soon as they saw the fabric. Matthew sighed and watched them from outside. He decided it would be ten times better to wait and let the store clerk manage them until it was time to carry the fabric back to the cart.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around.

"Matteo! I thought that was you! What are you doing back in town so soon?"

Matthew simply gestured over his shoulder at the boys who were easily heard from the outside.

Unfortunately, Matthew had used his left hand to gesture which was now being held in the hands of a worried and frantically talking restaurant owner.

"It's fine. I just accidentally left it on a pot is all."

"Give him his hand back!"

Matthew sighed. Lovino to the rescue.

He hid his hand as soon as the other brother let go. If Lovino found out, he was sure nothing would calm the anger before Matthew explained what actually happened.

"Thanks, but I really am doing well."

"What did they say about the ball?"

"Matteo! We're going too! Won't that be fun!"

"I'll try to make it," Matthew smiled at them.

They continued to talk in front of the store until Matthew was called on by an ungodly screech.

The twins looked at him with pity before they said their goodbyes and he headed to the storefront, only to have fabric shoved into his arms.

The next two weeks consisted of constant sewing and several all-nighters in order to finish the requests on time along with his other chores.

He resisted aiding his hand as the pain eventually numbed. His hands become bruised and slightly bloody due to accidentally pricking his fingers. He would always take extra precaution to keep the outfits clean.

Near the end, Matthew found he had enough time to fix something up for himself. He dug through some of his papa's boxes that had been put in the attic some time ago.

He found a double-breasted, light blue coat with back trousers.

Matthew tried it on, finding that it fit well. He'd only need to adjust some of it to make it a little more form-fitting.

The day of the ball came. Matthew had worked well into that morning. He was very tired, but his excitement for the night pushed him through the day.

Around three o'clock, he helped Reagan get dressed first. His hand felt much better and he was able to use it well although there was still a bit painful if he moved it the wrong way.

After he was finished, he watched Reagan examine the clothing. He supposed he deemed it fit to wear because nothing was said until Matthew was dismissed.

Next, he helped dress the boys.

The boys were, to say the least, excited. Anytime Matthew was with one, the other was acting as if they were talking to the prince in the mirror, practicing expressions, or commenting on what Matthew could have done differently with the clothes.

"We must compete for the prince's hand," Calvin stated with a smirk.

"But we must not harbor ill feelings towards each other," Emery replied with a devious smirk of his own. "Lest I bash your head into the concrete when we arrive."

"Or I pushing you out of the moving carriage."

This went on for a while. Each brother explaining in more and more excruciating detail how he would kill the other before their meeting with the prince later that night.

It finally ended when Emery said, "But we are brothers after all."

Calvin finished for him. "And blood is thicker than water."

The two laughed at each other.

"Grass-ew!" Calvin yelled despite the close distance as Matthew was trying to fix the collar of his shirt.

"Yes."

"I bet you have never spoken to any man who has stepped foot inside the palace."

Matthew knew this was another way to poke fun at him. He didn't care though. This was just another opportunity to talk about Gilbert.

"Actually, I have once."

"Some menial, no doubt. Some apprentice."

Matthew nodded. "Actually he was."

"How just like you."

The two continued to talk for a while before breaking out into another argument.

Matthew found himself in a daze, being reminded of the man he was to meet again tonight.

He walked out of the room, knowing he should complete some more housework before it was time to leave.

When the time came, and the carriage arrived, Matthew walked downstairs towards his step-family.

His brothers were being complimented on how well they looked.

Walking in, time seemed to slow as Matthew looked at them.

Reagan was wearing a green suit made out of reflective material. Matthew was very proud of the design given he had to add yellow and orange feathers to it somewhere.

Calvin was in orange and Emery in yellow. Matthew made them similar suits and added glitter and reflective beads as per their request.

Everything shown brightly as the light from the fixture hit them. One could only say that their clothes represented them: loud.

Their smiles turned to frowns as Matthew came into sight. He couldn't help but feel bad for ruining the mood.

Reagan looked the most disgusted. "What are you doing in that?"

"It was my papa's. It didn't cost you anything."

The boys laughed.

"Grass-ew at the ball!"

"What a silly notion!"

Matthew defended himself. "I just want to see a friend. I don't want to ruin anything."

"You won't get the chance," Reagan retorted. "I don't even want my boys to be associated with the likes of you." He stepped closer to Matthew. "And did anyone ever tell you, your papa's taste was questionable. Besides, it's practically falling to pieces."

With that, Reagan took the sleeve and ripped it off. It revealed some nasty bruises left on his arm. They didn't seem to care as the boys also decided to rip a few things off of the suit as well.

After that, Matthew was brutally reprimanded and left on the ground again. As soon as the door shut, he started to cry.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Matthew dusted himself off, wiping tears from his eyes, and answered it.

An old man, bent over, asked for a drink. Matthew invited him in and went to the kitchen to get some bread and water.

"Here, monsieur." The man took the bread and water and practically inhaled it. The stranger burped. Matthew laughed. "Do you need more?"

"Why were you crying?" It was almost out of nowhere.

"It's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing? Nothing is nothing, especially with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mattie, you have this weird amount of kindness that makes nothing everything. Giving me a piece of bread and some water. Help someone who is starving. Give your father dried roses before every trip. Not many people would. But you would and you did. As cheesy as it sounds, kindness is everything."

Matthew paused. "How did you know that?"

"I've been watching you! I'm your fairy god-brother!"

"What?"

"Hold on a sec, bro."

The man stood and Matthew had to cover his eyes as a bright light encased the room. When it had finally dimmed, his hands went to his sides and his jaw dropped.

Replacing the old man in a dirty cloak, a man around his age stood. He wore a white suit and little wings stuck out that looked odd on the muscular physique.

"That's a million times better. That monkey suit is super uncomfortable."

"Wait, what?" Matthew was still confused.

"Simple. I am your twin brother, Alfred, obviously." Not obviously, Matthew thought. "Mom's pretty happy I was assigned to you. Me too though. This is so cool! By the way, your life sucks."

Matthew shook his head and stared flabbergasted at Alfred.

"Anyway, we have to get you to a ball. You still take care of that rose bush, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"We'll turn it into a cabriolet."

"A what?"

"A carriage that holds just you. You might want to get Kumajiro now."

Matthew nodded and ran to get the horse, still very confused. He figured taking the help was better than not so he ran out to the end of the driveway were the roses sat. Alfred was already there.

"Perfect. Watch this!"

Alfred had already placed a rose on the ground. It began to grow larger. Vines twisted around it and Matthew partially feared for himself. The rose grew bigger, one of the petals making a bench, another growing over the top to create a hood. The rest of the petals turned into the bottom of the carriage. The vines became wheels and connected themselves to Kuma softly.

"And now your clothes!"

"Can you just mend them? They were my papa's. It's kind of my way of taking him to the dance with me."

Alfred nodded. "Of course. Can I change the color? You'd look great in red."

It was Matthew's turn to nod as he laughed a bit.

He could feel the clothes on him changing. The blue changed to a brilliant red and the previously torn garment fixed itself.

"Now, about your bruises…" Alfred looked thoughtfully at him.

Matthew knew that there were probably some already starting to show on his face. His burnt hand absentmindedly went to touch them.

"I can make the bruises that they gave you go away and the pain will subside, but your hands. You did that to yourself, even if it wasn't your fault. I won't be able to make those injuries disappear."

Matthew shook his head. "It's perfect. You've done so much already."

A pair of embroidered gloves were held out to Matthew. "They were our father's. Passed down to him. Take him with you as well."

Tears gathered in Matthew's eyes. "I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to Mattie. I am the hero, after all." Those words sounded strangely right in his mind. Almost as if he had heard them a thousand or so times before, but he knew the phrase had never been muttered.

Strong arms engulfed him and Matthew's arms wrapped themselves around his brother's waist.

"I'm so sorry, Alfred."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. Mom and Dad are really proud of you either way."

Matthew was guided into the carriage and sat so he could get one last look at his brother.

"Oh!" Alfred pointed to the moon that turned a to hold a slight hint of blue. "When the moon turns completely white, the magic will wear off. You'll be left in the torn outfit."

"What about my step-family? What if they see me?"

"They won't recognize you."

Matthew nodded. "Thanks, Al."

"No problem, Mattie. Have a nice life. I love you."

"I love you too." It didn't feel weird to say that he loved this stranger. Not after knowing it was his brother and especially not after all he had done for him.

It took Matthew a grand total of twenty minutes to reach the castle. It seemed as if he was the last one to arrive.

Running in, he took note of the vastness of the castle. Two men stood on either side of large golden doors. Matthew could only guess that was where he was to enter.

The doors began to open, and Matthew was nearly blinded by the light.

"If he comes tonight, you may have further correspondence with him."

Gilbert turned to the old man sitting in the chair next to him.

"You have Elizaveta to thank. She convinced me."

A smile graced his faces as his eyes went back to the doors.

Gilbert watched multiple people come through the doors. Roderich was calling out names at the middle their of the entrance staircase. So far, none of them fit the man he had seen in the forest.

He looked towards his grandfather who looked back at him.

"I hope he shows up." The surprised Gilbert. It was strange to hear such words uttered from that mouth but he was glad. No matter what he said, Gilbert did love his grandfather and wished for his support.

As the night went on, he felt a squeeze on his shoulder.

"I believe that's everyone." He looked back to see Ludwig's face and nodded as they both went to the dance floor.

To say Gilbert was severely disappointed and upset was an understatement, but he didn't let it show. Instead, a bright smile graced his face as he focused all his energy on being princely for the evening.

That is, until, the doors opened once more.

Chapter Text

As soon as the doors opened, Gilbert's heart leaped. That was him. That was the boy he had talked with in the forest.

He looked beautiful and awesome and gorgeous.

His pants were black with a simple gold stripe up the outside of the leg along the seem. His coat was red, which looked striking against his pale skin. A white flap in the middle was held up by black buttons. The lining on the coat was gold to match the pants. The belt only helped to accentuate his thin waist. His gloves also held the same gold but with a more intricate design.

A light smile graced his face as a bowed to the crowd. His almost amber blond hair seemed fluffier than the last time they met.

Gilbert started to step forward, the crowd seeming to step out of the way.

Birdie, the name Gilbert had given to the lad, came closer. He swore there was true stardust in his eyes.

"How do you do?" Gilbert swore he sounded lame, but the blush on the boy's face said otherwise as they both bowed.

"Spectacular. You?" His voice likened an angel's.

"Awesome." Gilbert would place money on the fact that the best sound in the world was the man's laugh.

When the music started playing, he wasn't sure if he should thank or complain to Roderich later about the choice. It was a simple piece that was easy enough to dance to.

He held out his hand.

"Care to dance?"

Birdie nodded, slipping his hand gently into the one placed out for him.

The doors let out at the top of a staircase.

The chandeliers were bigger than any Matthew had ever seen before. Their light filled the ballroom.

The room was filled with people that were looking at him. Odd.

He didn't feel pressured though. It felt almost like a dream. As he made his way down the staircase, he stopped at the landing in the middle and bowed, a smile on his face.

After looking around at the people at the bottom of the stairwell, his eyes landed on platinum hair and red eyes. Gilbert.

He felt his face heat slightly. Gilbert wore black boots with white pants tucked into them. A brown shirt and white ascot made up the under clothes. The coat was navy blue. Gold lined the red cuffs and flaps. Black gloves kept his hands hidden and a sword was laced onto his belt.

Each of the colors matched those of the crests that hung on the walls.

"How do you do?" Matthew's heart almost stopped when he realized that Gilbert was actually right in front of him and not miles away. His voice seemed to melt into him, causing an even bigger blush to spread across his face than what he was sure was already there.

"Spectacular. You?" Matthew was sure his voice shook. He was so nervous. He had never been to a ball before. The fancy clothing felt odd all of a sudden and his hands began to sweat inside his gloves.

"Awesome." He laughed. Although still extremely tense, that helped to ease his mood.

When the music started playing, he found it to be something he played for his parents when they danced. Luckily, it was also something his papa had taught him to dance to.

Gilbert's hand was suddenly extended towards him.

"Care to dance?"

In the moments between his hand reaching for the one in front of it, everything really did feel like a dream. The bright lights from the beautiful chandeliers. The people around them. Gilbert himself. None of it felt like it was even possible. It felt so far away and dreamlike. More so than Matthew wanted. He wanted this to be real, to feel real.

Matthew nodded, slipping his hand gently into the other's.

And all of a sudden it was real. Everything hit him.

It felt right. Like his hand was meant to be there, even with the fabric in the way. Like the eyes that stared into his were going to be there forever, comforting him. Like that smile would never leave the smooth face that stood, at some times, inches away.

His heart raced. This was real. This was happening. And it all felt like it should be.

When they started dancing, Matthew let Gilbert take the lead. He hadn't danced in years anyway.

He relaxed easily into the pattern that was laid out for him.

It made him feel like he was flying. This feeling was something that took hold of Matthew, stronger than any other he had felt before it. He wished this moment could last forever. This feeling and the strong hands that held him, he wished they would never leave.

They danced together gracefully. The crowd stood and watched the first dance. Many faces smiled at the two. Especially a pair of twins, one of which was so giddy that he wouldn't stop poking the other in excitement. The other was so content that he didn't really care.

Gilbert's grandfather looked on in delight. If Gilbert would have seen it, he may have made a comment about how odd it looked on the man's face. However, this scene reminded him so much of both his son and his lost love. It made him reminisce on the times he spent with his loved one. Maybe this boy wasn't so bad for Gilbert after all.

Ludwig smiled at his older brother. He had the pleasure of finding Gilbert sleeping on his window sill for the past couple of days. He was ready for that to stop and he hoped it did after tonight.

Across the circle that the crowd had made for the two, Ludwig saw a brunette who was currently poking what looked to be his brother. An amused smile found it's way onto his face as his thoughts went to asking the man to dance after his brother was finished.

Antonio had similar thoughts, both about finding Gilbert sleeping in odd places and about a certain brunette across the way. His brunette, however, was the one currently being poked. His eyebrow ticked as he swatted the hand and continued to watch the two dance. Now all that was left was for the first dance to be over so he could make his way across the floor to the boy.

Ivan watched on with a small amount of amusement. He knew the boy would come. It was obvious. He felt something would happen soon, so he wouldn't let his guard down for the night, but he hoped to enjoy it.

Elizaveta was practically squealing. The two dancing looked so perfect together. She wished she could get a painting done of this scene. She pulled herself away from the scene to see if anyone caught the mystery boy's name.

Roderich really liked this song.

Others glared at the ones in the prince's hands. How dare he walk in late and then steal away the prince? Three people were especially peeved. Although they did not know the man currently dancing with the one they were after, they hated him. His graceful moves got on their nerves. Reagan tried to hide his anger as he held back his sons from killing the boy.

When the two stopped, the crowd erupted in applause. They pulled apart and all Matthew wanted was to hold those hands again. His own felt bare without the other's in them.

Another dance erupted, this time with everybody and Matthew was pulled into Gilbert again. A much livelier dance. Only a couple seconds were spent on this before the hand he dared not let go of dragged him into a separate room.

"You're the prince?" Matthew was almost out of breath.

"Not the prince. Just an extremely awesome one." Gilbert winking and he felt himself go weak at the knees and a blush spread over his face.

"I thought you said you were an apprentice."

"Technically I am."

Matthew paused. "I guess so." He laughed and Gilbert joined it soon after.

"I mistook you for a country boy, so I guess we were both fooled."

"I swear I am. These are actually my papa's clothes."

"They look nice on you."

"I may have altered them a bit."

"You can sew?"

"Yes. It is one of my favorite pastimes along with the violin."

Gilbert laughed at that. "I can imagine what Roderich will say as soon as I tell him you play the violin."

Matthew laughed as well.

They stepped out into the night. A night chill had set in but it didn't bother either of the men.

They talked on the veranda for a while about the adventures Gilbert had gone on before he started to lead them to the garden.

On the way, Matthew spotted a familiar flower.

"Roses. They were my papa's favorite."

"You seem to mention your father often."

Matthew nodded. "Speaking of family, tell me about yours."

"My grandfather is the king. He is very stern but definitely rules well. I think if I can become a fraction of the man he is, I'll be a great ruler as well. Don't tell him I said that though."

Matthew laughed. "I think he'd love to hear that you think so highly of him."

"Maybe." Gilbert paused for a moment before continuing. "Ludwig is a sweet kid. He's recently gotten really buff which kind of freaked me out but whatever. He's got a similar face to our grandfather, but, in my opinion, they have two very separate personalities."

Matthew nodded. "They sound nice."

"They are pretty awesome."

"Shouldn't we go back soon? It is your ball. I'm sure they are missing you."

"I think it's fine. Just a little while longer."

They walked further into the garden. Everything was so well kept. It shouldn't have surprised Matthew, but it did.

"Who takes care of the garden?"

"Mostly the gardeners. Don't tell anyone, but I help as well. You could say I am a secret gardener. It's pretty embarrassing though."

"You've done a wonderful job."

"Thank you." Gilbert seemed stuck in thought for a second. "Actually, I keep a separate part of the garden to myself. Would you like to join me?"

A hand was held out to Matthew again who took it almost immediately.

The walls were covered in vines and Gilbert opened the door excitedly.

"It's beautiful and, if I may say so, awesome."

It was Gilbert's turn to laugh.

A bench sat in the center and there the two sat together. Silence engulfed the two for a while as they sat comfortably in the other's presence.

Gilbert broke the silence.

"The moon is beautiful tonight. It's almost as awesome as me."

Matthew looked to the moon as well, a laugh on his lips. He soon went quiet as he realized only a sliver of the moon was left in the light blue.

He turned quickly to Gilbert. "I'm so sorry. I must leave. I've had an amazing night." Matthew ran.

"Wait!" Gilbert started to run after him. "Won't you at least tell me your name?"

"I'm sorry!"

As he ran back to the castle, his glove caught on the rose bushes. He went to turn back, but Gilbert was already so close. He couldn't risk it.

Rushing inside, he said a small apology to his father and continued to run through the dancing people.

An incredibly tall man stopped him at the door.

"Please, monsieur. I must leave." Matthew gave the man a pleading look. He glanced behind him to see Gilbert caught up in others dancing.

"Why?" A smirk was settled on that smug face.

"I fear he'll find out who I really am and this wonderful dream will really end. Please."

The man's eyes caught on his hand and gave a worried look to Matthew who just placed the other over it.

He opened the door. "You do know he'll find you, right?"

Matthew nodded. "I hope so. Tell him thank you so much for the magical evening and that I can't wait to see him again."

With that, Matthew continued to run. All the way down those stairs to where Kuma and the carriage were waiting.

He jumped in and Kuma began to run. About halfway through town, they slowed their pace. No one was following after. He figured it could have been due to the man at the door.

The magic was reverting and Matthew stopped Kumajiro. Soon, the carriage turned back into a rose. Matthew picked it up. He would let it dry and keep it in his Box of Important Things™ along with the glove he had left on his hand. .

The ride home was peaceful as he was left to his thoughts.

Gilbert was rather annoyed that Ivan refused to go after Birdie.

After being caught by two very pushy men, he finally escaped them only to get to the door to find Ivan had just let the boy walk out.

"He seemed very keen on seeing you again. He just really needed to leave right then." Ivan thought for a moment. "He said it was magical and I'm sure he wants you to at least try to enjoy the rest of the dance."

He was pushed off as Ivan left, seemingly seeking someone out.

Gilbert sat with his grandfather. He watched his brother and his best friend dance with two very similar boys. Little did he know, the twins were indulging the two men on the mystery boy's life story, although also enjoying themselves in the other's company.

Chapter Text

Gilbert actually found himself enjoying the rest of the ball. Sitting with his grandfather, they spoke for most of the rest of the night. It surprised Gilbert how many stories the man had of his younger days and the pranks he used to pull.

It was the first time in a long while the two had connected so well.

At some point, Ivan reappeared and told Gilbert to dance at his own ball and so he went back onto the floor. He danced with many people and conversed with them. Most of them annoyingly droned on. Most of whom wanted to dance with him were clearly after his title and money. He found it tasteless after spending most of the night with his Birdie.

He reminisced over the events earlier that evening. Remembering how perfect it had been. He was reminded of the violet eyes by a purple dress that didn't even come close to how beautiful the irises had been.

A red dress twirled to his side and the images of the form-fitting jacket came into view.

Anyone he danced with that night reminded Gilbert of his Birdie.

He found himself getting tired. Both in exhaustion and in the disappointment of not seeing the one who ran away from him not hours ago.

After a while, he retired for the night, taking the glove his loved one left behind with him.

He still stayed up, tracing the embroidering, imaging the face, wishing it was still in front of him.

Matthew's ride home was slow. He hunched over hugging Kuma as the pain from a couple of hours ago returned. He talked through it. In hushed tones, he told his horse about his wonderful night and the prince he conversed with throughout the gardens.

He explained the complexity he found in Gilbert. It made his heart twist just thinking about it. He almost begged for attention while still maintaining his cool exterior. At the same time, Matthew found he cared for everyone. His people, his family, and now, just maybe, Matthew.

Once home, Matthew changed his clothes and took advantage of the empty house by playing his violin. It had been a while, but the sweet song that pulled on the string would still give any man cavities. The song was one that his papa taught him, the one played at the ball for the first dance. As he played, he danced as if he was still there, with the prince.

That was until the carriage pulled up. Matthew hid his violin, along with the glove and the rose.

He ran down to the kitchen and tried to not look flustered when the others met him there.

"I'll prepare tea."

The boys chattered on about their nights with the prince.

Calvin started. "He was so graceful when we danced."

"Even more when we did."

"Our souls met."

"Exactly. My soul and the prince's. Your soul was over in the restroom."

Emery replied by sticking out his tongue. "Besides, he danced with me twice. So ha."

"He didn't even speak to you two nincompoops."

"It's not like it was our faults."

"You're right. Look at your clothing. It doesn't nearly stand out as much."

Matthew didn't turn around from his tea. He hoped he'd get away without another beating since the boys were in such a good mood.

"But it was also that stupid boy." And Matthew was saved. There were times he was glad the boys had one-track minds.

"Yes. The mystery prince."

"The disgusting half-pint waltzed into the ball unaccompanied and threw himself at the prince. The shameless scamp should have been escorted out by the guards right then." Matthew tried not to laugh at the displeasure in Reagan's voice.

He still acted as if he was making tea although he was really just waiting for the water to heat.

"A prince, wanting a runt like that. Why would anyone?"

"So frail! I could have definitely broken his arm."

"His skin looked delicate and soft, but not any softer than a doe's. I bet I could have pulled out his hair easily."

"The prince really did us all a favor when he escorted the gamin outside and the disgusting urchin left in a hurry afterward." The boys laughed.

"I can only imagine what he said."

"Probably that his attire was questionable."

Matthew, although a bit disturbed by the boys' previous notions of harm, wanted to laugh. He knew what really happened. It was his who left with the prince for a while and him who made his step-brothers so jealous. He bit his lip before he smiled more than usual and poured the tea.

Matthew listened to them complain for a while longer before excusing himself for bed.

He early tuned out the noise and danced around his room as if the prince were still holding his hand and the first dance never stopped.

The cold of the night didn't seem to bother him, even in his threadbare clothing.

At some point, Matthew realized how late it had gotten. He wrote down all that he remembered of the night in a journal he only wrote sparingly in as it was a gift from his father before he left.

He went to sleep, thanking Alfred and thinking of Gilbert.

Matthew woke up late. It left him just enough time, thankfully, to get everything ready before Reagan stirred.

He went on through his usual routine. He didn't expect anything to change and it certainly hadn't. Last night, he thought, must have surely been a dream but the rose and glove in his box said otherwise. But like the other things in it, he was prepared for it to become a beautiful, distant memory, like his father and papa and his childhood.

He had the pleasure of going to town when he realized they needed a few things from the market.

Of course, while he was there he'd visit his two friends.

He walked to town. Kuma, he felt, would still be tired after last night. He felt a smile reach his lips as he danced nearly all the way there, only composing himself when he got to the outskirts of town.

Finding the restaurant, he went inside and was direct towards the back again.

He waited in the usual stool. Matthew noticed that there were a few more cooks than the last time he came.

This time, it didn't take long for the two to pull themselves away.

"Matteo! Your face." His smile fell as he remembered the bruises that must have been propionate at this point.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I had forgotten about them."

"I swear, I'm going to—"

Matthew cut him off quickly. "Please don't. They're the only family I have left."

Feliciano smiled a bit. "Let us at least clean you up and you can tell us about your night." He winked and laughed.

Matthew nodded, laughing a bit as well. "Only if you tell me about yours."

He was taken to the back room where they started to help him dress his wounds, especially on his torso.

Neither of the twins said anything about the injuries, but anyone could tell they were both fuming, one more than the other.

Matthew was blissfully unaware as he spoke of his night at the ball. A sudden realization came.

"You two knew, didn't you? That he was the prince."

This cause the twins to break out in laughter.

"Of course!"

"Matteo, it would have been cruel to tell. If you didn't know, the prince obviously didn't want you to know."

"What about your nights?" Matthew put his shirt back on, sitting with his head in his hands, staring expectedly at the two.

"It was wonderful! I met Gilbert's brother Ludwig and Lovi met his guard, Antonio. They approached us when you left and didn't leave until it was time to go. It was magical, wasn't it Lovino!"

"Whatever, idiota." A blush covered his face. "That tomato-bastard can dig a whole and sit in if for all I care." Mumbling followed that was soon covered by laughs.

And the rest of the visit went like that. Lovino and Feliciano told Matthew of their night and Matthew listened intently.

The time ended when a knock was heard on the door. Matthew was introduced to the two men and the two introduced to Matthew. They were the ones he had been hearing of from the twins.

"I really must be going. From what I've heard, you both sound wonderful." Matthew tried to keep his face down. He didn't want to meet their eyes lest he find pity in them.

He gave the twins hugs and left.

It was true that the two pairs of eyes held sympathy for the boy. Even from their angle, they could see the bruises and cuts on his face.

He gave each of the twins a hug before he left, closing the door softly behind him.

The four stood silently. They all knew the situation as the twins had explained it the other night.

"He looked a lot worse when he came in. He never complains about it." The troubled face looked up at the others.

"Do we have a plan yet to get him out of the stupid house?"

Ludwig spoke next. "We'll come in the with the pretense of a letter from the prince. They should invite us in for tea of some sorts."

"Sounds like the sort of butt-kissing shit they'd do," Lovino interrupted in a mutter.

Antonio continued relaying the message. "We'll use this to get a lay of the land and where Matthew is. I'll probably say out of the house and search for him."

"Well, his room is in the attic. He'll probably be there if he's not making tea." Ludwig nodded at the new information Feliciano had given them.

"A couple of days later," he could already feel an angry Italian protest, "so we don't seem too suspicious, we'll pick him up with Gilbert."

Meanwhile, Ivan was forced to put up with the angry Gilbert who was not allowed to be informed on their plan. They all knew how he would just get made and rush in to save the boy while potentially making things worse.

Gilbert had calmed down from his other rants earlier in the day. He was sitting on his bed, admiring the detailed golden embroidery on the left glove. He made comments to Ivan about it every now and then.

"There is a large maple leaf in the center."

"It's a soft fabric. His hands were even softer in the forest. Slightly calloused but beautiful."

"I can imagine his hand being in it again."

Dear Lord. Ivan just wanted it to stop at this point. Gilbert was probably doing this on purpose, knowing that his weakness was dejected comments.

He also knew that the prince did actually feel that way. All his comments were painstakingly true and that's also what made them so unbearable.

"What if we took a walk through town? Would that make you stop talking?"

"No."

Ivan was so tired of this. It was obviously going to turn out right. "Let's go anyway. Maybe I can lose you in the crowd."

And so, they went. Gilbert, upon seeing his people look so cheery after the ball, seemed to be in a much better mood. He was still talking, but it was no longer in that despondent way that made Ivan want to scream.

They walked around the fountain in the square when Ivan spotted a certain someone out of the corner of his eyes and something told him a prince had spotted him too.

"Birdie!"

Oh great. Ivan swore he felt a headache coming on due to this nonsense.

Chapter Text

Matthew looked back to see what all the ruckus was and his smile fell.

It's not that he didn't want to see Gilbert again, he just wanted to heal before then. He knew his vanity got the better of him sometimes, but he wanted to at least look okay-ish. He knew the bruises on his face made him look deformed and rotten and he had no clue how the prince recognized him in his state.

Matthew wanted to cry. He hadn't finished getting everything for the night's supper, but at that moment, he didn't really care. All thoughts escaped him except for the belief that Gilbert would somehow hate him if he found out the life Matthew led.

His breathing had grown ragged, less because of exertion and more from the anxiety. Every so often, he would turn his head to look behind him.

At first, he saw the prince dash after him and another taller man behind him that Matthew recognized from the ball. Slowly, the ashy-blond caught up to Gilbert and grabbed him, holding him back from continuing the chase. The man waved with a smile that said 'you better appreciate this" and Matthew waved a 'thank you' back.

Once out of sight and realizing that Gilbert wouldn't be close behind, he slowed down. Taking in as many deep breaths as he could, as he sat by the edge of the road.

He was in town to get beef and a few spices. Reagan had made a special request today for dinner to help cheer up both himself and boys.

In his satchel, he had the spices but he was only just heading to buy the beef.

It was the main meat and Reagan would definitely notice if it were missing.

He'd have to go back.

He spent to much time with the twins already so his family would probably question his tardiness. He could always tell them the meat had to be cut to size so it took a while longer.

He had to quickly run back, otherwise, the story would never be believable. It hadn't been that long since Gilbert had stopped chasing him so he knew he'd be there when he went back. Matthew just hoped he wouldn't say anything.

He let his hands press on his eyes to help relieve the headache that was starting to form. A moment later, he was sprinting back towards town.

Gilbert wasn't surprised by much.

Was he surprised that the man he had met in the forest could be seen in town?

No. Obviously not.

He was surprised to catch a version of the beautiful face he had seen the night before he was not expecting. The cuts looked like they had antibiotic cream spread on them and the general shade of the skin was no longer pale, but a mix of purple and green.

When he called out and saw it, he was taken aback for a moment before realizing the man had started to run. It was apparent to Gilbert that there was only one thing to do at that moment: run after him.

He found it hard to keep up, much like the night before. Again, because of the general beside him, the boy got away.

Was he surprised that he was left out of a plan to save his Birdie?

No. Not really. It helped that the way Ivan explained it made him believe secrecy was key and knew secrecy wasn't always his forte.

Walking back, everyone in a while, glaring at the man beside him, he was surprised again as his Birdie ran past him, back to town. He decided to follow him again. It wasn't that much further into town and maybe they could talk for a little bit.

He was not running as fast so it was fairly easy for Gilbert to catch up and fall into step with him. Ivan wasn't far behind but he didn't mind.

"So, what're we running for?"

He almost laughed as the boy jumped as if just noticing his presence, but stopped when he looked off to the side, hiding his face.

"I've got to get back home soon, but I forgot the meat for tonight's meal."

"How about I have Ivan get it and we can stop and talk for a little bit?" He knew both men wouldn't like the idea, but Gilbert needed to hear more information from the one living in a sucky situation.

He grabbed the boy's wrist and stopped him, trying not to be rough to prevent any more bruises on the marred skin. He relayed the instructions to Ivan who grumbled while continuing his jog.

Violet eyes wouldn't meet his. A look of desperation settled over his face for a moment and he pulled him over to sit on the side of the road.

Gilbert really couldn't find any words. He didn't know how to start this conversation so he opted for something else.

"You know, I've been calling you Birdie for the past couple of days since I didn't know your name."

"Sorry. It's Matthew."

"No need for apologies. You were understandably busy." He took a pause before trying out the new name. "Matthew," the name felt strange on Gilbert's tongue. It was a nice name but seemed too formal and ridged for him.

"Birdie's okay though. I like it." A smile graced Matthew's face as he blushed and it made him look more alive. The bruises mostly hid the new color in his cheeks and Gilbert found himself being a bit disappointed he still couldn't hold the eyes that flickered up to him every once in a while.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Matthew closed his eyes, undoubtedly trying to remain calm and Gilbert found himself regretting the question.

"It was my fault." That was not a good answer and they both knew it. "I directly disobeyed their request."

"Birdie," Gilbert let his hand sit on top the Matthew's, trying to get him to stop fidgeting. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what you did."

Matthew took in a deep breath. "They're family. I can't just let them go. They need me. I need them."

It sounded like he had repeated this to himself multiple times.

"Can I help? Anything at all, you can ask me."

Matthew shook his head and bit his lip.

They were silent for a couple more seconds.

"Is there a time that I can come meet with you? Anytime at all. We can just talk like we are doing now."

Matthew thought for a while before he answered. "Four. Four in the morning."

That was early but it would have to do. Gilbert really wanted to get him out of the situation, but if it would cause his Birdie a mental breakdown, then it couldn't really be worth it.

They sat for a while longer. Gilbert held the boy's hands, studying what he was unable to the nights before.

They were long and slender. One had clearly been painfully burnt and he suddenly realized that the gloves were meant to hide the pinpricks that dotted his hands.

He knew once they healed they'd be even more beautiful than they were now.

"I think you may have gotten the awesome me to love you."

Matthew froze. "Love". He hadn't heard that word in a long time, that was unless it came behind or followed a negative.

He saw his vision blur.

The first drop fell.

He felt the hand that had captured his own move towards his back and bring him to a hug. He could feel himself shaking. This was the first time he cried, truly let tears fall, in the presence of anyone since his father died.

How could this kind man "love" something that acted like him, let alone looked like him?

It made no sense to Matthew.

Yet the arms that held him close to the warm, comforting body were still there. The man seemed to cherish him, rubbing his back in soothing motions, whispering in low tones.

Matthew's arms stayed at his side, unable to move. He sat there, only letting a few sobs escape him as he bawled. Gilbert only held him tighter, seemingly mindful to make sure his grasp wasn't too tight.

A kiss was planted on his forehead and the prince pulled back.

"Finally, I get to see those awesomely beautiful eyes."

A hand was brought up to gently wipe away some of his tears and Matthew couldn't hold back a small smile.

"He's back with your meat. I'll see you at four tomorrow morning near your front door."

He nodded back as Gilbert helped him up with utmost care. Bringing up his own hands to help clear his face of tears, he took the package from Ivan and started running towards home.

This time looking back and waving at the both of them.

Upon arriving home, Matthew went straight to the kitchen. He wasn't stopped by anyone asking why he had been late coming home. He could hear them in the parlor. They probably didn't realize he had left.

This dish took a while so he knew he'd better start now.

Gilbert was at a loss. The boy who was looking back at him and waving didn't want to leave his abusive household.

He'd talk to Birdie over the next week and hope he could get him to see that hurt and love were not synonymous.

He felt terrible. Something like this happened in his kingdom. It didn't matter that this person was close to him. Someone in his land was being hurt by those they should trust. It broke his heart.

He felt even worse knowing that it was Matthew. That the one being hurt was someone as loving and kind and, let's face it, awesome as him.

Just moments ago, he held the trembling boy in his arms, trying to calm him. Gilbert hadn't meant to make him cry and he wasn't sure what triggered it exactly, but it seemed to make him feel better afterward.

Those violet eyes seemed so sad and he hoped he didn't imagine the gratitude in them as well. He also noticed how thin the boy was. The night before, he was in a coat that was form fitting but was still thick. Today, his baggy, thin shirt hid most of his body until Gilbert got the chance to hug him. He was too thin. He wondered how much the boy ate or if he was given much food at all.

"We've got to go to bed early tomorrow. I need to be at his house by four in the morning."

Ivan just nodded as they walked quietly back to town.

"Now that you know, we should meet up with the others."

"Okay."

So Gilbert was taken to a restaurant in town where a waiter led them to a small room in the back that was already seemingly full with four people and a table in it.

As they looked up, each holding a different level of shock. "The awesome me has arrived to help with your puny plan."

"I hate him already."

Antonio snorted. "Gil, this is Lovi," he said, pointing to the one who made the comment, "and Feliciano."

"It's Lovino, you tomato bastard."

Lovino and Feliciano told him more about Matthew's home life before, and what they guessed it was like now from the injuries they had seen on the boy later that day.

His brother, Antonio, and Ivan each explained the plan and their parts in it.

The original plan was simple. They would scope out what the situation was first, leaving a note for Matthew to find before a group went back to get him a week later and arrest the family.

Gilbert took a deep breath, knowing everyone was going to object the idea, he hated it himself, but he knew it was necessary.

"I don't think we should leave a note and I want to wait on arresting them."

With that, Lovino had begun to climb over the table, screaming obscenities, Antonio holding him back with a worried look on his face. Ludwig held something similar mixed with confusion. Feliciano stared on in shock with Ivan.

"I talked with him today. I don't really want to explain what he said, but I want to hear him say he wants out. I don't want to just uproot him."

Lovino was in his face with an index finger. "I hate you, but you're right. I know what you mean. I still hate you and your stupid brother but you're right."

"I'll be talking with him in the mornings from now on. I still want to scope out the place tonight."

Back at the castle, Gilbert realized he couldn't sit up and wait for the news. He wasn't used to a four A.M. alarm so he went to bed.

Matthew's family had just finished dinner when a knock at the door came.

Chapter Text

"Don't say anything stupid," Ivan ordered the man beside him.

The thick door opened to reveal Matthew in tattered, dirty clothes. His face still looked terrible, but not any worse than it was earlier that day.

He invited them in with a clearly confused face.

Antonio winked at Matthew and Ivan elbowed him.

The boy bowed and kindly excused himself to retrieve his step-father, or as Matthew put it, "the master of the house".

Reagan greeted them with refinement and elegance.

"Do you men have a preference for tea?"

"No, sir," Ivan spoke before Antonio could.

"Chamomile and biscuits." With a flick of his wrist, Matthew scurried out of the room to prepare the things that were asked for.

"May we ask who that was?" Ivan almost glared a hole into the man's head beside him. It was such a stupid question and he really didn't want to dig him out of it.

"Only a servant. Why do you ask?"

"We are surveying the number of residents in the land. Does he live here?"

"Yes. We have reserved a space in the attic for the boy."

"I see. How kind of you." Antonio smiled at the man. It was strained but without knowing his usual face-splitting grin, the step-father would have no idea.

For most of the night, Reagan kept the conversation going, eventually inviting his boys down to greet the visitors. Ivan held in a sigh as he remembered the ruckus the two made at the previous night when Gilbert had first left the ballroom.

Matthew skirted in and out when he was called for after delivering his original platter. He never stayed far away.

At some point, Reagan had even told him to fetch his violin to play as background music for them and chastising him when it took a bit too long, albeit in the other room.

Matthew's skills were nothing to belittle. He had talent even if the boys on the couch across from them said otherwise. The songs he played were soothing and contrasted greatly with the boys loud and obnoxious behavior although that was no fault to him. It even helped Ivan calm down in the presence of the others. He could tell the same went for Antonio.

Matthew was the one to let them out. He was also the only one who thanked them for coming to visit them.

"I really enjoyed your company. Please come again and have a wonderful night."

Ivan wondered if Matthew would be able to wake up as early as four o'clock seeing it was only three hours away. It occurred to him that the boy probably wouldn't sleep as they were currently obstructing his chore time.

Ivan knew he wouldn't be able to wake up in the morning after this. He'd have to sleep for a full night before his headache subsided.

"Well, that went …" Antonio trailed off, unable to find the words and Ivan didn't know what to say either. "How did it go?"

"I'm not really sure."

It made them both very uncomfortable. Reagan had seemed gentlemanly enough. The boys were rowdy and a bit cruel, but they were also teenagers.

"They seemed so normal." Ivan nodded, agreeing with Antonio's comment. "It's like they overlooked the bruises on his face and his clothing. And he just said the boy stayed in the attic like it was nothing."

The two looked up at the house. It was common for a house to not have an insulated attic. They could imagine cold nights.

In the window, they saw movement. Matthew stood looking out at them, waving with a smile. The candle illuminated his face, although it wasn't as haunting as one would expect. The flame cast a pleasant light that seemed to highlight the boy's warmth. He put a finger to his lips as if to say 'be quiet'. Then, he pointed at something, thought for a moment and tried to act something out.

"He's pretending as if he's riding on a horse." Ivan nodded, seeing it.

Antonio nodded, trying to make the movement big enough to see from the attic but not so big as anyone else in the house would have known it was directed at the boy.

His smile grew bigger as he laid his head on his hand and pointed again.

They both nodded. His room may have been the attic but he slept in the stables.

"It's probably warmer there, especially with a horse's blanket."

"I'll tell Gilbert to look there first tomorrow morning if Matthew misses their meeting."

The two waved goodbye to the boy who waved back as the candle's light faded from view.

They turned around, mounted their horses, and rode back towards the castle, eager to get sleep.

"Who do you think could watch Gilbert tomorrow?"

"Only you, amigo. No one else would dare."

Ivan nodded. He'd have to get up early. He had a feeling that the day this whole mess was over, he'd sleep for at least three days after, if not more.

Gilbert woke up on time, mostly due to an aggravated Ivan pushing him off his bed.

"I suppose you didn't get much sleep?"

Ivan simply held up two fingers indicating his two hours of sleep. "I hate you."

Gilbert wanted to laugh, but new the other probably had a headache and was mad enough as it was so he opted for a sly smile.

He quickly got dressed and they departed.

When Matthew didn't come to the door, Ivan directed him towards the stables, explaining the trouble they had getting that information the night prior, or rather, that morning.

And so, Gilbert leaped over the stone fence and went into the building. There, he found only one of the horse stalls full. In it, a horse was laying down, sleeping with a gently snoring Birdie curled beside him.

The hay stuck in his hair only went to show how adorable the boy was. He had a blanket wrapped around him.

The horse was easily awakened and looked up to Gilbert.

He let the being sniff his hand before it nudged Matthew awake.

Gilbert was then blessed with the most captivating scene he had the opportunity to ever behold as Matthew yawned, turned over and curled back up all while a free hand gently pushed the horse's snout away.

He allowed himself to laugh a little, although not enough to wake up those inside the house.

Knowing the boy had a long night, he thought it would be best for him to sleep. Gilbert decided to sit down, careful not to land in any droppings. He pet the horse's nose until it rested its head in his lap.

He sat there for the next to hours before Matthew practically jumped up and ran.

A second later, he was back inside with a blush on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there. And I slept past the time we were supposed to meet. Reagan wakes up in an hour and I've got to prepare his breakfast."

Gilbert stood and walked over the Matthew, fixing his hair and clearing the straw from it. "May I join you in the kitchen then?"

The boy nodded and he followed him through a backdoor that led directly into the old house.

"How was last night?"

"I had no clue they were coming."

The two whispered because Matthew insisted as to not wake his family.

"I got to play my violin. That was nice."

"I'd love to hear you play sometime. Ivan said you sounded angelic on it. I'm sure Roderich would be impressed."

Matthew smiled and blushed a little. "They were in a good mood too. It was really a very nice evening. I had even gotten a compliment on the dinner I prepared."

"I'm sure you cook well too. Did you make the biscuits? Antonio loved them."

Matthew nodded. "They are my father's recipe. It was pretty much the only thing he could cook." He laughed a little. The sound still filled Gilbert with a pleasant feeling.

After talking a bit more, Matthew interrupted after glancing towards the clock. "It's almost time for me to wake Reagan up. You need to leave." His smile was replaced by a frown.

Gilbert gave the boy a hug before Matthew scurried off into the house.

Once out of the house himself, he tried so hard not to laugh at his guard who was currently sleeping on the ground.

He gave Ivan a playful kick to the stomach which was met with him being tripped while walking away.

They got on their horses and rode back to the castle, Gilbert reporting the things he learned about Matthew. Ivan would have used the word 'gushed'.

The rest of the day was normal. They went to town again to talk to Feli and Lovi to keep them updated.

Again, he went to bed early, and this time Ivan did as well.

The next few days continued like this.

Matthew would always be the one to say it was time to go, but he always waited until the last second and Gilbert would always give him a hug, and sometimes a small kiss on the forehead, before leaving.

The next morning, Matthew was up by the time they got there. He brought out scrambled eggs for them to eat. At some point, Matthew and Gilbert wandered into the stables again.

"Birdie," Gilbert started. He wasn't really sure he should finish his sentence, but the boy encouraged him to continue speaking. "I don't think your family is good for you. I know you love them, but they hurt you."

Matthew looked down. "They're family. I promised to take care of them. I promised my parents."

"From the stories you've told me about your parents, I don't think they'd want you being hurt like you are now. Your step-family, did they treat you like this when your father was around?"

Matthew shook his head.

"If he knew this would happen, I can promise you he wouldn't have had you make that promise."

"I think you met him once." It was off topic and Gilbert was kind of glad it was. "He asked you for a dipper of water. You were with someone and talked with him for a while. He said you seemed very kind."

"I remember him, I think. Did he have huge eyebrows?"

Matthew laughed a bit. "And a funny accent."

"He definitely made an impression. A man like that, he loved you so much. He wanted the best for you. This isn't the best. I'm not saying that I could provide that either, but I'd like to try."

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course."

They started on another subject until again, Gilbert had to leave.

Again, it continued for a couple more days. Neither said anything about leaving.

Matthew had just finished cleaning up dinner when Reagan walked into the kitchen.

He found himself cowering just a little over the sink. Carelessly, he found himself speaking.

"What is your favorite memory of my father?"

Without skipping a beat, Reagan answered, "When he left."

Matthew's legs gave out as the man continued speaking.

"Arthur was a weak man. He spoiled you rotten. Filled your head with nonsense ideas. It was a good thing he died when he did otherwise you would have never turned out as you did."

Reagan gave a swift kick to his side by Matthew felt nothing. He was too distracted by the news.

His father was a strong man. Any person who willingly went on those trips had to be. At first, his papa's death made him mourn but only a strong man would ever let something have such an impact on his life.

They filled his head with wonders and ideas and Matthew knew for certain that what they told him was not nonsense. It was filled with wanting and dreaming for his son to grow up to be better than him like any parent would.

His father loved him.

This man, whose back was turned as he walked out of the kitchen, he did not love him. Matthew even wondered if the man had any more than hate for him.

And now, someone, a prince no-less, came every morning offering Matthew a way out.

He sniveled and decided he needed to think. Running to the attic, he grabbed his violin and a box he had hidden and went to the stables. There, he took out each object, one by one.

The rose and glove from two weeks ago and the man that came with them.

He took out the letter his father had sent him, rereading it over and over.

His journal, he read it multiple times as well. There were only a few entries.

He found dried lavender and thought of his papa, all those years ago, planting them in the garden. He thought of the laughter and joy he saw on his father's face and realized that nothing came close to that moment. It was pure and golden.

At that time, it felt as if two hands were on his back, supporting him and pushing him to do what he thought was best.

In the bottom was a blanket. It was the one the doctors had swaddled him in when he first arrived. He thought of his mother, father, and brother, only one of which he knew.

The items laid in a semi-circle around him. He opened his violin case and began playing, slowly drawing the bow across the strings to create a sweet song.

And that's were Gilbert found him in the morning. Still performing in front of an audience created by his memories. Still watching his parents dance and his brother smile.

The prince didn't interrupt, just sat and watched him play, listening to the music and watching the emotions pass over the boy's face.

After an hour or so, Matthew spoke. "I want to leave."

He was still playing and it came out in a mumble but Gilbert heard him loud and clear.

"Now?"

The boy in front of him nodded, finishing his song. He didn't move. He looked generally disconnected until a pair of violet eyes met red.

Gilbert kneeled down and hugged him, smoothing his hair and whispering calming words into his ears. He helped Matthew pick up each item and put it into the box, letting him explain the memory that each one held with it.

Matthew insisted on carrying the box as Gilbert hoisted him onto Kuma. They walked out together and the white-haired man mounted his own horse, Ivan already on his.

They went out together. Towards the distance.

And, for once, Matthew felt he had nothing to fear.

Chapter Text

When they first got to the castle, Gilbert insisted that he see the physician who gave Matthew a strict diet and herbal supplements. He also insisted that the boy take a bath, wrap the wounds, and go to sleep immediately. Gilbert was given the wraps and a bath was prepared.

Before the bath, Matthew was approached with new clothes. The last time Matthew got new clothes was the last time his father was in town. Anytime he made anything, he was only given enough fabric to complete an outfit for the boys or Reagan.

The shirt was a simple white material meant to be smooth on his skin and avoid irritation. The pants were the same way, but brown. The underwear was white and cotton and put in the middle of the other two garments to avoid embarrassment.

Matthew was apprehensive about taking a bath. It had been a while since he had anything other than a quick dip in dirty bathwater. The door closed behind him and he was left alone with the large tub filled with water.

When he got in, he realized he expected the cold water he was used to but a warmth greeted him and he let his muscles relax. A couple of minutes passed before he actually started to clean himself. When he was done, he grabbed the towel on the chair beside the tub and dried off, putting on pants to at least keep his lower half decent.

Looking back in the tub, he felt a small bit of shame pass over him. The water had turned from clear to a grimy brown color. He hoped he had gotten himself clean enough to not dirty the clothes that were given to him as much as he thought he might.

He called Gilbert in, who had insisted that he be the one to wrap the bandages. He didn't say anything about the bathwater and joked with his Birdie as he spread ointment and encased the wounds in gauze.

Matthew, who had stayed up all night and missed out on sleep for the past several years, slept for ages. At least, that's what it felt like to Gilbert who stayed close until he fell asleep next to him.

At some point, he felt a movement beside him. Looking at the clock, it was 3:30 in the morning.

"Birdie, what are you doing?"

"Sorry, I usually get up this early." Gilbert laughed a little.

"Can you sleep for a little longer, just until the sun actually comes up?"

It was Matthew's turn to laugh as he nodded. As he laid back down, a certain albino decided he was just too far from reach and pulled him much closer.

Gilbert easily settled back to sleep but it took the boy a little longer, getting used to the warmth and comfort that both the arms and a bed brought to him.

Matthew found out the next day that his step-family was arrested for abuse shortly after they had arrived at the castle. He could imagine how disgruntled the boys must have been waking up any earlier than noon, let alone five o'clock in the morning.

Prison didn't seem right for them, at least not to Matthew. It seemed too cold for him to send his family to such a place.

Gilbert fought with him about letting them out and the compromised. His step-family would be given a house, but in a different kingdom, never to return. They would not be allowed any sort of slave and have to fend for themselves.

Matthew did see them again if only to say goodbye.

Gilbert was disgusted with how terribly they treated him even after how much the boy fought for their happiness. When they turned to Gilbert, they flirted with him. It was nauseating and Matthew smiled and waved at them nevertheless.

It was admittedly fun to see Matthew wonder around the castle and get used to things being done for him.

Matthew still got up fairly early, but not before the sun was. Gilbert usually joined him and they would walk around the castle, greeting all of the servants and, sometimes, the guards.

Gilbert realized he hadn't really taken the time to get to know many of them, but realized they were all wonderful people.

A couple of times, Matthew would attempt to take over someone's job.

"I can help too."

"Yes, you can. But we also pay these people. You don't need to do the job for them."

Matthew would pout but stand up from, most often, the floor.

From time to time, he would find Matthew in strange places like the banisters, which really frighted him, or on window ledges, trying to help clean them.

The animals were brought from Matthew's house and he was so grateful. Some days, he and Gilbert would sit with them for hours, watching and playing with them.

At some point, a chick seemed to attach himself to Gilbert and he named it "Gilbird". Of course he would, Matthew thought.

There were days when he would go back to his own house and take care of it, changing it back to the way it used to be.

At some point, Matthew went through his father's office. It was in his second year at the castle when he took on the daunting task. Some of the journals were moved to the library at the castle to be copied as they involved helpful research on different plants that Matthew guessed he did on the side as well as others on trade.

Eventually, when Matthew went through the desk, he found a drawer full of the dried roses his father got from him. At the bottom was a note. It read:

Dear Matthew,

If you are reading this, I have died and enough time has passed for you to heal. I am so proud of you and what you've become.

My boy, I don't think I'd have the heart to tell you so I shall tell you here. If you haven't already noticed, you are adopted.

Your mother died in birth along with your twin. Your father was a carpenter who died earlier that month due to a tragic mishap. They had already come up with names for you and your brother. They are buried at the cemetery in town near a birch tree. Your papa and I would frequent there to thank them for you. I would like if you would continue the tradition. Her favorite flowers were Lillies of the Valley.

If you have found love, know that not everything will be perfect. You will have arguments but if you have your mother's judgment, you'll love that person forever.

Your papa and I loved to dance to your music. Please dance with your partner and it will be one of the most magical things you feel, I promise you.

I love you so much and whatever decisions you have made are ones that I trust.

Your father,

Arthur Kirkland.

Matthew cried, of course, when he read it and brought it back to the castle himself to put it in his box of important things that was now tucked safely under his bed.

A few years later, when Antonio and Lovino eventually got married, Matthew would offer the home to them as Feliciano and Ludwig had decided to stay in the castle.

One of Matthew's favorite things to do was still go into town to see his friends. Although they were available at the castle now, eating their food in their hard-earned restaurant made Matthew relish in a moment of pride. They'd come out and eat with him most times because he would come at a time when the place wasn't really busy.

They'd talk about their lives. At first, the twins wanted to know all about Matthew's life at the castle.

Matthew confided in him. He was still nervous about being there. He felt like there was too much time on his hands and his self-doubt got the better of him somedays. The prince was a very important person and Matthew was just himself.

The two would always cheer him up in some way or another and remind him that Gilbert fell for him for a reason, even if he was a potato-eating bastard.

Gilbert's favorite moments were the days he'd wake up to pancakes, which, in all honesty, had become most days.

The first time he got to try them, Matthew had disappeared before he had woken up. When he finally found him, the smell wafting from the cooktop was much more intriguing than any other thing that Gilbert could have come up with at the moment.

He came up behind Matthew and hugged him, resting his still tired head on his shoulder. Matthew's head tilted to set on his and they stayed like that for a while until Matthew finished cooking and had to fetch something from the pantry.

"It's been years since I had this! I had to make sure to get it!"

Matthew seemed extra excited which, in turn, made Gilbert ecstatic.

Pouring the golden-tinted brown syrup over his own thin cakes.

Gilbert did the same with his own and took a bite. They both melted into their seats. The flavor and the taste was extraordinary.

Gilbert looked to Matthew whose eyes had just fluttered open and had a look of absolute euphoria in them.

"Is this not the best thing you've ever tasted in your whole life?"

Gilbert laughed and nodded thoughtfully, deciding to be a little mischievous this morning. "I don't know. I think bratwurst might beat it."

"What?! Really?" Matthew had a look of disbelief on his face.

"No. These things are almost as awesome as me."

Matthew laughed. "They may be even more awesome."

Gilbert gave an over-exaggerated look of betrayal and looked the other in the eyes before they both broke out in laughter again.

After their first year together, Gilbert wanted to propose.

When he did work up the courage to ask, it was on a certain bench in a secluded part of the garden.

Matthew said yes.

"Obviously he'd say yes," a certain Russian would tell him with an eye-roll after he mentioned his relief.

And now, only five years into their relationship, Gilbert is currently taunting Matthew with maple syrup, holding it only five inches away from his nose before pulling it back.

Matthew has completely healed from his wounds, although still suffering slightly from the mental ones. The only bruise still predominate is the one from last week when he fell out of a tree.

Gilbert still loves all of him.

They have taken on the role of parents to a beautiful baby girl who had the same circumstances as Matthew, and the two will love and spoil her to death, along with her grandfather.

As his papa, I can say they are incredibly happy and healthy.

And, of course, they will live happily ever after.