(Hello my friends. I am the new "main" author of ORD. My penname is Jordan Marius Wright and you can find me in the reviews. Me and *insert Hedgehogkween's real name* have been working on this rp for over a year and retired it about four months ago. Either way there are about estimated 30-50+ new chapters until the end. If you haven't noticed, I am the one who rped Francis, the Magician, Thompson, and various other characters whereas hedgie has done Arthur and Peter and Alfred and various. Either way she will still use this account for all her other stories but I will be the one doing Our Royal Duties from now on unless a weird change happens.

I am sorry for the change but she has been very busy lately and does not have the free time now. I will be busier this upcoming school season but do my best to write. Either way, less talking, more adventure!

Let us BEGIN!

PS: This chapter is a little shorter than most, but that is because the Christmas Eve chapter is severely long as well as the Christmas chapter))

...

In the tower of the Magician's, the man sat. He eventually let his apprentice back in and sunk into his appearance.

Thompson was a rather young man who always looked on the brink of passing out from sleep deprivation. His red hair and sideburns made him look older than 15 or 16, which was his estimated age. That and he occasionally had this expression of his eyebrows furrowing and it made him look very angry. Also he was a boy who drank literal steins of tea just for the caffeine which explained his insomnia like no tomorrow. Other than those traits, he could be stubborn but had magic potential and relied heavily on his master.

Every little thing about him was the opposite of his elder. He was more of a brute and got rowdy and cursed as if he spoke a language of nothing but profanity. The magician was more delicate, and graceful, and barely arose a temper. Not to mention Thompson was associated with reds and crimsons despite being from the Green Kingdom. He was almost jealous of how...beautiful green looked on his mentor.

"So how come Arthur's journal wrote 7 full chapters?" Thompson asked as his lord was scanning over all the pages. The silvery ink was written like one would with the finest quill made from a seagull's feather. "This right here, look."

There were two chapters full of nothing but Arthur's rambling and as hilarious as it was, he spent quite a long time explaining things. The magician found it a little bit of a waste to ramble on for such a long time, but Arthur was quite clever and was trying to spread that onto Francis, he assumed.

However, the green-eyed man picked up the book and looked through it. "Thom, as much as I appreciate who you are and enjoy your company, it was a very bad idea to write all that. No, things are not going to be okay, now. You ruined such a great Christmas, boy."

Thompson took a swig from his stein and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up onto the desk. "Oh, did I?"

"Yes, you did. I'm not going to say what you have caused, but I will punish you for it. Please leave me be these next few days while I try to fix it. You did something that I really wish you didn't push earlier. Please do leave right now if you can." Thompson looked offended for a few seconds but left with his stein, without another word. The door closed with him.

The magician looked down at the book, tearing up. He gently closed the book and put it back onto the desk and went over to a bookcase of various other life-journals. He picked up a gorgeous, leather-bound one with dried flowers in a few of the pages. "Oh, Thompson, what have you been doing as of late?" He asked and closed his eyes, smiling.
...

Meanwhile, several miles away, Francis continued to lay his head on the other's rounded stomach and sighed. Him and Arthur had been discussing Arthur's health and their child. "-I'm just worried for you...And if Allistor and Alfred will accept the child..." He looked up at Arthur with some worry in his eyes. "I should talk about something else...We've focused all on the child today and hardly really have done anything else." He wanted to move his head, but it was so interesting to feel little twitches against his cheek now and then. It was almost like the child knew he was there. "I know you're not quite comfortable with the subject and all..." He sighed. "Let's talk about Christmas maybe? Sounds much more happier, doesn't it?" He heard the talk of food but said nothing, as his stomach wanted to remain empty, especially from all the recent stress. "A-Actually I don't want any. I'm in pain at the moment and eating might make me feel worse. I hope you didn't eat too much or else you might fall asleep again on me." The Frenchman went silent for a mere while of seconds. "But you need it. You especially don't need to be starving yourself right now. I know you're sort of forced to eat, but you should be careful to only eat when you're hungry." Francis sort of didn't feel much like eating after the events of the previous day. How he almost lost the one he loved...

He could remember the wrenching pain his heart felt when he believed his dearest to be dead. He remembered Arthur's cold, pale body that he held in his hands for seconds before that demon Alfred had snatched her away. He had to sit on his thoughts of his husband and child both being dead. He had to sit on thoughts that he would remain a widowed King once his parents died. Francis swore he would go crazy if his Arthur truly was gone.

Arthur's small smile brightened at the thought of Christmas, completely ignoring that Francis was not hungry due to a new interest. "Oh yes, Allistor brought me a book about how they celebrate Christmas here. He said that it was boring, but I think that it's interesting. They're going to put a big Christmas tree up in the main hall, the book said that sometimes the tree can be twenty feet high!" He grinned to himself, eager to tell someone of what he had learned. For Arthur, reading was great. He had gotten used to it as his main source of entertainment over the past few months. But nothing quite beat being able to tell someone about the things that he learned, which he never really got to do. He began rambling on about the things that he had learned. Most were somewhat useless factoids, things that even the inhabitants of the castle probably didn't know or care about much; Various parties that had taken place, strange events that occurred away from said parties, and even a few years of Christmas's in which there had been a war going on and everyone had nearly forgotten to celebrate. That had been over a hundred years ago, and apparently Arthur had read that part more thoroughly than any other because he spoke of it as if it had been some disaster. For the longest time Arthur seemed to be going on about nothing, or something that he couldn't remember clearly. He also seemed to have asked Francis a question, as he stopped and looked at him expectantly. "Francis? Are you listening to me?" He asked irritably, noticing the man had zoned out towards the end of his rambles. Francis seemed to have had huge interest but once about ten minutes passed, the man was lost in space.

Francis snapped out of his stupor and acted as if he knew half of what Arthur was ranting about, taking about a minute to remember. "Well then I can learn some of the Christmas culture around here, then! Tres Bien! It sounds quite beautiful instead of the usual feast and story-telling I got." When Arthur starting talking he only really paid attention to some mentions of famous people or nobles, instead of traditions so he hoped he did good to fake it.

Arthur frowned a bit. "I see... that's alright, I suppose that I was rambling a bit, wasn't I...?" he muttered, his shoulders slumping. He was a little disappointed that Francis gave such a short reply, but decided against commenting on it any further. Arthur glanced up at the door, hoping for some knock to break the sudden silence that had fallen over the room. While it took a minute or two, the knock eventually came from Allistor. He had come to take Arthur's breakfast dishes away, check on him, and- possibly the most important thing of all- to make sure that Francis wasn't doing anything weird to his little brother. Allistor decided that he wasn't comfortable with the amount of time that they spent together... alone... in a part of the castle that was seldom visited by anyone but himself and Alfred. Tugging lightly at Francis's sleeve, he started leading him to the door.

"Oh, A-Alli, please don't." Arthur whined a bit, sitting up and crossing his legs. Allistor looked back at him, frowning a bit.

"You're injured, and with child. You need your rest. Besides, he can visit you later, when we're done talking." He frowned at Francis and pulled him out the door, leaving Arthur staring indignantly after them. He went to pick up the Christmas book up again but stopped, thinking a moment before hesitantly putting the book back in the small pile that Allistor had brought him and taking up one that looked more like something he could tell Francis about later and hold his interest with.

Francis got saved by Allistor, who came in and tugged on his sleeve, which caused him to look up at him in a confused sort of glance. "Yes?" He said as he got up and followed him. Why did he want him? Was he purposely trying to take him away from Arthur? Was this maybe something a bit more important? He gave a worried glance to Arthur before he left. Once they were outside and he closed Arthur's door so he could sleep, he sighed and looked at Allistor. "Where are you taking me? Is there something you want to talk about? I've been through so much..." He sighed, looking stressed, tired, and pained. "With Alfred coming in and fighting with Arthur, and me having to explain some serious things to him... And I had to dress him on my own." He was quiet as he looked at Allistor with eyes that begged Please, no more and some innocence.

Allistor tried to keep his straight face, although he nearly lost control of himself when Francis mentioned getting to dress Arthur. Would it even be possible by now for him to not know? Probably not. "It is important..." he muttered. "But, first..." he stopped a ways away from Arthur's room next to a large window. "I can see how much you care for... Alice." He only barely caught himself. "And I'm glad to see you too so happy. I mean, I've never seen her like this, but... you know, if you two spend too much time together, Alfred might get suspicious. Right now he's pacing in his room, trying to think of some way to make Alice love him" Allistor glanced up at the ceiling, implying that Alfred was on a higher floor. "Also... please try to protect Alice from him. The boy's been spoiled rotten ever since the start of the war, and I fear that not getting Alice is the only way he may learn to grow up a little... don't tell him I said so." He frowned a bit, a small blush creeping across his face. He cared too much about Arthur to see him with Alfred. He wasn't a bad guy, he just wouldn't be able to make her happy the way Francis seemed to be able to. Allistor sighed heavily before leading Francis on down the hall. "Anyway, there's something more important that I need to talk to you about. Whatever you do, do not tell Alice. I fear it may be the death of her if you do..." His frown returned, a bit saddened this time.

"Allistor." Francis whispered before replying to all the words. "Please refer to "Alice" as Arthur whenever Alfred isn't near...I prefer that..." He didn't want to mention his dreams of marrying a man or falling in love with the prisoner boy after Jean's death. Did Allistor ever realize it was him watching Arthur the whole time? "And yes, I very much understand that Alfred is in love with him. He was crying before he left and all...And Arthur was telling me all these stories of them both. As much as I wanted him to be quiet, it was painful to listen to. But I agree, he should act his age for once and find someone just for him. " He looked out the window they were standing in front of with a dark sigh. While the birds outside were happily flying and rabbits played in the meadow, it was not the best sight for Francis to see after such a heavy and somewhat sad morning and noon. He followed Allistor into the hallway and he felt a bit worried when they had to pass Peter's room as well. "What's wrong? Is something happening? Is it Arthur?" He said in worry, grabbing onto the other man's shoulders and looking at him with fear-filled eyes. He knew it seemed cumbersome right when he said there was worse news ahead.

Allistor frowned at him but didn't stop walking. "Francis." he hissed, glancing around. "Please, just trust me. It's best that we refer to him as Alice. After a while of living in this place, you learn that walls have ears..." he frowned, hearing the almost silent footsteps of a servant walking across a hallway a ways away from them. He knew that Alfred didn't trust him anymore, or at least wanted to think that he didn't. He sighed and looked up and down the hall, making sure that nobody was watching. "And... I suppose it is sort of about Arthur. I'm a bit afraid that whatever Peter has, he could catch it. Our mother, bless her soul, was very weak when she had Arthur, and even more so with Peter. Peter might not act like it, but he's really, really weak. That's why I'm worried about Arthur. You wouldn't believe how many times we almost lost him to sickness when we-" he stopped. "W-well, you know, were locked up. S-so, if 'Alice' is going to leave here after Christmas- and I truly hope she does- then you'll have to make sure that she stays in one room." he lowered his voice, moving a bit closer to Francis so that he wouldn't be heard. "I know that the baby survived the carriage, but I can promise you that if she gets sick anything like she used to when we were younger then neither her nor that child will survive." He spoke menacingly, although there was worry and even fear in his eyes. He couldn't lose Arthur. "I-I mean, these days they're not even sure that Peter will survive... H-he's gotten considerably better since you two came, looking better by the hour he is now, b-but I still worry..."

Francis gave a dark nod and sighed. "I understand there are spies. I've seen some in my own castle before." He muttered and sighed. When Allistor told him the news about Arthur and Peter, he didn't even want to live anymore. Francis's face lost all color and his words here gone once his throat went dry. "Q...Quois?" He asked in a terrified tone, almost not believing Allistor one bit. "S-She's weak?" He could not believe anything he heard, it was almost like having a nightmare being explained to him. " My Alice...I might loose her...and my precious child..." Then the crying came. A few tears leaked from his eyes before they became thick ones that made it hard to see. "N-No...You're lying...It can't happen! Mon Alice can't die!" He was sobbing right there and wouldn't stop. He had enough.

Then, Francis misunderstood Allistor's words very emotionally. Time felt suspended by weak strings as the next few seconds passed.

Francis sprinted away from Allistor down the hall and didn't know where he was going. He needed to escape the fact that he was killing Arthur with their child, and escape the reality that Arthur would die young. Francis kept on running, even when his soles hurt and he could scarcely breathe. That's when a maid with a cart of glass vases and flowers slammed into him. It was hard to explain what happened, but there was a scream from her and a shriek of agony from Francis. He was now on the ground twitching with glass shards on him and some even in him, but mostly blood was everywhere. Allistor looked nothing more than a speck from how far he was. With tears in his eyes, Francis found it hard to breathe, only to find out an awful large shard was in his neck. Then servants ran into a circle around him, screaming for a doctor or someone to help. Francis would have blacked out, but didn't and endured the pain.

All the Frenchman could remember was a shower of glass, like snow all around him. Except if that snow stabbed into you and hurt like all hell.

At the end of the hallway,Allistor watched the scene unfold in horror, not having expected such a reaction. All he said was that Arthur was an exceptionally weak one, and then that idiot had to run off and get into this. He ran to where Francis lay now on the ground, kneeling next to him. He waved and shouted for a few servants to do something. He plucked the shard of glass out of his neck and winced a bit at the blood, taking a small cloth from a nearby table and dabbing the wound on his neck carefully. He hadn't meant to scare Francis so badly. Just because Arthur could get sick didn't mean he would. He had only meant it as a warning, not a sure-fire prediction. God, it looked awful. "Francis... Francis, can you hear me? Please say something..." he said quietly, hoping to get his attention. The blood quickly soaked into the cloth and Allistor barked for another, being handed a handkerchief by someone and having the bloody cloth taken from him.

The doctor came soon enough, looking Francis over and frowning."So many injuries these days..." he muttered. Allistor scowled at him. He lifted Francis into his arms as carefully as he might do with Arthur. He and the doctor ran toward the room that Francis had slept in the previous night, drawing a little attention from Peter. The boy peeked into the room from the door that connected the two rooms, frowning a bit.

"What's going on?" he asked, approaching Allistor as Francis was placed on the bed. He looked at Peter and tried to fake a smile.

"Peter, go back to your room."

"Is something wrong with Francis?" Fear filled the boy's eyes. "L-let me see!" Allistor hesitated, then sighed.

"Peter, please... th-there was a little accident, it's nothing serious-" He was cut off when Peter pushed past him to Francis's bedside, where he took the man's hand.
"U-Uncle Francis!" he cried, seeing the blood. "Please, please be okay!" Tears started in his eyes, his own hands trembling a bit.

It was a trait of Francis to over-react over the littlest things. He saw Allistor come and his lips twitched, almost like he was trying to smile. He tried to talk, but couldn't make a single sound. When Allistor asked if he could hear him, he lifted a bloody hand and it shook a little, before turning into a thumbs-up, the best gesture he could obtain with the pain. He could breathe now, but he tried hard to talk, the only thing really coming out were groans of pain. When he was picked up, he was quiet and his body was sort of limp there. He would need someone to wipe all this blood off sometime later. When put in the bed, he tried hard to talk to Allistor to give some sign he wasn't ignoring him and purposely being quiet, but his throat hurt too much. Tears were in his eyes as a crisp white sheet, much like the one he slept with was placed on him, even though it was dampened by blood in some minor places. When seeing Peter, he was glad he held onto the hand with less blood on it and looked at him, tears in his eyes. Francis pulled away and stroked his cheek quietly, brushing through his silky hair and gazing at the boy in silence. He looked to the doctor in hopes he would tell him what happened, how it hurt him, and how long until heal time. It didn't help Francis that him, Peter, and Arthur were all bedridden while Alfred was around and could be planning anything. Most importantly he wanted to find out if his voice would heal. It was hard to communicate.

"God-dammit Francis, you're a fucking idiot!" Allistor snarled at the man, nearly wanting to smack sense into him, but the doctor forced Allistor to calm down so he could place surgery on Francis's throat. Allistor calmed down soon, but noticed Francis was loosing an awful amount of blood.

Peter sobbed into his hand. "P-please, please don't die..." he whimpered. Allistor looked at him, reluctant to make him return to his room. He had to see that Francis would be okay. Peter was so sensitive to loss. He looked to the doctor, hoping for some support. The doctor was looking down at Peter, smiling a little.

"Little boy-"

"Peter." Allistor glared at the doctor, who looked up at him and frowned.

"Peter... I might have to do some things to Francis that you won't want to see. But as soon as I'm done you can visit again, okay?" he faked a smile. Peter looked at him for a moment.

"I-is he going to be okay...?" he asked, tears in his eyes.

"I promise he will." The doctor and Allistor smiled comfortingly down at him, and Peter decided that this was good enough for him."A-alright..." he mumbled, hesitantly going back to his own room but sitting by the door to listen. Allistor looked at the doctor. Before he could say anything the doctor cut in.

"Stitches. He needs stitches." he said simply. Allistor cringed, looking at the wound in his neck. "And yes, it's the only thing that will get the wound to heal properly. Either that, or he loses his voice." he looked at Allistor for some confirmation.
"W-well... wh-what do you think Francis?" Allistor looked down at the man, worried by all of the blood and not wanting to decide for him

The Frenchman quietly had tears in his own eyes seeing Peter cry. He didn't want to die as well. But it hurt and pain numbly went across his body. He cried even more when Peter left. He looked to Allistor in fear and with a pale face. He shifted a bit around and screamed in severe pain since it drove the glass everywhere deeper. He looked up at the doctor and Allistor. His hand went to his face to feel the torn, broken and blood-ridden bandages. He would never be able to talk again if they wouldn't fix his throat. He wouldn't be able to tell Arthur he loved him. He wouldn't be able to talk to the child anymore. His whole life would be in silence.

He nodded, giving the signal he wanted stitches and screamed in complete agony, now feeling some of his organs get punctured.

Allistor looked at the doctor and did the same. The doctor sighed heavily. "Well then don't just stand there, get the chloroform from my medical bag." the doctor snapped. Allistor ran to the bag and dug through for a minute before pulling out a bottle and a cloth, handing both to the doctor. Allistor leaned in a bit closer to Francis and looked him over, carefully picking the larger shards of glass out of his skin and making a small pike of them on the bedside table. The doctor poured the chemical generously on the cloth before holding it to Francis's face, hoping that it would keep him out long enough for the procedure. Once they had gotten as much glass out as possible, the doctor went back to his bag and found his needle and thread. It was at this point that Allistor had to leave the room, feeling a bit nauseous at the sight of the needle being poked through the torn, almost raw-looking flesh. The idea of anything sharp being put into one's skin made his skin crawl, especially needles. His only consolation was in the fact that Francis would be unconscious for it. He'd seen many a man have far worse things done without even chloroform; stitches, surgeries, amputations... His own fiancee had even gotten her leg blown off. He cringed at the thought of her, rushing to Arthur's room in hoped of taking his mind off of her.

Allistor pulled the door open to Arthur's room, a bit surprised to see both Arthur and Peter standing inside. "What are you two-" he started, but stopped when he saw the fear in their eyes. Arthur ran to Allistor, clutching his shoulders tightly.

"Tell me it's not true." he murmured, his hands trembling violently.

"What do you m-"

"Francis." he said simply, pulling Allistor closer to him. "Tell me that Francis isn't dying. P-Peter told me that he heard a crashing sound, a-and when he went to Francis's room he was screaming and covered in blood. Tell me it's not true!" There was a desperate tone in his voice. Allistor stared down at him, a bit startled. He was silent for a moment before finding his words again.

"N-no, he... th-the doctor says he just needs some stitches... I-in his neck, and some other places, b-but he'll be fine." Arthur and Allistor met eyes and stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Arthur all but collapsed onto Allistor, sobbing loudly. Peter ran to Allistor and hugged him and Arthur tightly, joining in sobbing. Allistor was left speechless, watching his two brothers sob over a man that he had previously loathed with every fiber of his being. He patted them both comfortingly on the back, smiling a little. "Hey, hey, it's alright..." he said softly. "H-he's going to be okay, you heard me... P-please don't cry..." he was completely at a loss for what to do, other than to wrap his arms around them and try not to fall over from their weight. "U-um... i-if it makes you guys feel any better, w-we can see him afterward... b-but that will be a while." he muttered. Neither boy responded. Allistor looked back and forth between the two, hoping for some sign that the tears would end soon. After a few minutes of sobbing he was relieved to see that Arthur's tears were beginning to lessen, at least enough for him to speak. He looked up at Allistor with red, puffy eyes and smiled a little.

"Th-thank... god..." he managed, resting his head again on the tear-stained patch on Allistor's shirt. Allistor nodded and smiled a little, helping Arthur stand again.
"Y-yeah..." he mumbled, trying to comfort Peter- who was still clinging to him. Arthur stumbled to the seat next to his bed that Francis had sat in only just that morning, rubbing his eyes. Allistor lifted Peter up into his arms and allowed the boy to cry into his other shoulder, softly stroking his hair and going to sit by Arthur in Peter's chair. They were silent for a long time, wondering how long it would be until they knew how Francis was doing.

During the whole operation Francis was twitching when the tinier pieces were removed. When stitches were given, he cringed, before his body didn't react anymore. Francis's eyes fluttered open, and someone watching may have thought he was awake and surgery was long gone. But that wasn't the deal. Francis couldn't see. Actually, none of his senses were working. He thought he was having a dream with his eyes open like he sometimes would, but instead it was his memories flashing through his eyes. He felt completely cold and distant, and words sounded more like crumpled paper. Once the final memory was given, which was one of him and Arthur holding something in their arms...A bundle...With Peter stepping on his tip-toes to look at it and Allistor just chuckling and trying to calm him down, Francis became limp once his heart stopped. It was completely quiet except for the doctor telling people to come in, and the instant sobs of someone screaming and someone holding them back.

Once they were told it was okay, Arthur ran to Francis's room. He left Peter and Allistor far behind him and would have kicked the door down if he'd had the strength. He pushed the door open so hard that it slammed loudly against the door, but he didn't care. When he saw Francis laying motionless, he felt his heart break. He slowly approached the bedside, staring at him for a moment. The stitching, while it had been done neatly and correctly, looked awful. Arthur wished that he could rip it out the black thread in his neck and heal the wound himself. He felt tears returning to his eyes as he collapsed next to the bed. Allistor and Peter finally entered the room. Peter instantly ran to the other side of the bed and climbed onto it, despite a disapproving scowl from the doctor. Peter sat on his knees and lightly shook a place on Francis's shoulder that hadn't been bandaged heavily.

"Uncle F-Francis... w-wake up..." he said quietly. "P-please... Y-you're all better now, s-so it's okay. Francis, s-stop sleeping!" he refused to fall into tears again, shaking Francis until finally Allistor lifted him off of the bed. "H-hey, I was just about to wake him up!"

"Peter." Allistor whispered, kneeling in front of the boy. "Peter... I know that you love Francis, but I don't know if we /can/ wake him up..."

Arthur's head shot up.

"Don't say that!" he screamed, taking Francis's hand. Both brothers were startled. "Allistor Kirkland, don't you dare say such a thing! H-he's not dead! He can't be!" Arthur looked furiously to the doctor, who stepped back and put his hands up defensively. Arthur buried his face in the hand, sobbing loudly. Occasionally he cried Francis's name, leaving both Peter and Allistor surprised and a little sympathetic. Whether they were noticed or not, tears started rolling down Peter's cheeks. Allistor held the younger boy closer and let him cry into his shoulder again. This time, however, is was silent weeping. Arthur was trembling now, afraid that Francis really wouldn't wake up. He thought of a few mornings in which he had woken up at the crack of dawn and seen Francis laying there, and he would always check to make sure he was alive because he was always afraid that one day he would wake up and Francis would be laying there with a knife through his stomach. Arthur lifted his face to Francis's, letting his head fall on his chest. "G-god, Francis... I-I know you can hear me in th-there, please, /please/ don't die... I-I still love you, a-and I need you... P-please wake up!" he whispered, still gripping Francis's hand. Reality started to hit in once he felt the ice-cold skin of Francis, and heard not a breath from his lungs.

Francis Bonnefoy was dead.