AN: So we've made it to a fourth chapter. Now I know why they say four is death in my culture – this chapter was ridiculously had to come up with an idea for, but lo and behold at three in the morning, I actually managed to come up with a plot!

DISCLAIMER: Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya

Four

"This is nice, isn't it?"

The words slice through the air, louder than the clinks of forks and knives on plates of the finest porcelain. He looks up from his food.

"Pardon?"

"This is nice! Just us, having lunch together."

Just us. His eyes dart to the three guards behind Alfred, skim over the two maids waiting at the side of the room, and imagine they can see the butler standing behind him.

Just us indeed.

"It's lovely, dear." he smiles carefully, reflecting the grin on Alfred's youthful face. "Lunch is, as usual, exquisite."

"So what did you do this morning?"

"I was rather tired, so I slept in."

"No, after that. I saw Yao pass my study and asked if you were still asleep. He said you'd gone to meet with someone."

"Ah."

"Who?"

"No one important."

"Then tell me who?"

It seems that Alfred – dear, sweet, foolish Alfred – is determined to make this point. He wonders if perhaps Alfred suspects something, but dismisses the thought entirely. Alfred's pretty head is filled with the duties of a King – and from childhood, he has been trained not to meddle with the affairs of his Queen or Jack unless… no, this is simple-minded curiosity at play.

"If you must know, it was a Joker."

"Did Pe-"

"No!" he snaps, the word escaping his mouth too quickly to stop. The syllable is almost a shout, and he can see the surprise cross Alfred's face, because Arthur does not yell at Alfred.

The Queen does not bark at the King.

"Arthur…"

"My apologies." he clears his throat, composing himself. "You know I have asked you not to bring up the Black Joker."

"I wish you would just talk to me sometimes, Arthur."

He hates few things but Alfred's pity is one of them. He bites back the bile rising in the back of his throat and smiles sweetly.

"But whatever do you mean? We speak to each other plenty enough."

"I talk. You listen."

It is these moments of clarity and intelligence that Alfred exhibits that make him realise why he is king – but these moments are so far and few between that he cannot see the boy as more than a boy.

"There is nothing that needs to be discussed, dear."

"Why was the Red Joker here? He doesn't look often into our affairs. He's not responsible for our Kingdom of Spades"

There is a hint of panic in the King's day blue eyes, like oncoming storm clouds looking to cover the sky.

"We are… old acquaintances. It was a social call, nothing more."

The clouds dissipate and the sky clears and Alfred is once again happy.

"It's great to see you with friends! You're so often alone these days."

Alfred's voice sinks at the end of the innocent statement. He responds with a small curving of the lips, and drops his eyes back down to the plate in front of him.

He hears a handle turn and looks up to see one of the guards opening the door. He is less surprised than he should be to see Yao framed in the doorway.

"Alfred. You have visitor." says Yao quietly, silvery tone carrying through the air easily.

He almost snorts. Has the Jack been so reduced to delivering messages?

Or…

Has the Joker returned?

"Not now. I'm eating lunch." Alfred pouts, like a small child interrupted in the middle of an elaborate game of toy soldiers. "Tell them to come back later."

"I believe that you will find that he cannot be refused."

"I'm the King. I can do what I want."

Arthur can sense an oncoming tantrum, evidenced by the contrary edge rising in Alfred's voice.

Yao smiles, a smile of an indulgent parent at a spoiled child.

"Would you refuse your own brother?"

For the first time in five years, Arthur sees Alfred struck speechless.

I find writing in this style kind of fun, and now that I have an actual plot (of sorts) I feel a little bit more secure. In other news: If you like FrUK, or drama, or FACE family, or anything I write, check out In the Aftermath, the fic which has been the product of obsessive planning for a year.
By the way, I swear I actually love Alfred. He is a precious baby. The same goes for all the other characters – no matter what horrible things I put them through in my writing.