burningdarkfire: (france)
[personal profile] burningdarkfire
Title: Wild Mage
Series: APH
Pairings: France/England
Rating: PG
Length: 3000 words; oneshot
Warning: mention of non-con/rape
Note: Medieval AU; for the [livejournal.com profile] what_the_fruk October Lovefest prompt - Where Francis is a prince/king and Arthur is a Head Wizard to that court - and any situation coming out of the scenario at all. A huge thanks goes to [livejournal.com profile] chalkpowder for beta'ing!

"Don't go near him, my lord," one of guards warned him as Francis tried to peer around him into the room. "He's only a savage, but he has magic, which makes him dangerous."

Despite all of Francis's pleading, neither of the guards could be persuaded to let him see the small boy. Instead, he was left to sulk, curiosity unsatisfied, as everyone whispered around him about what would happen to the strange boy.

A faint tremor ran through the castle as a scream sounded upstairs.


Francis hated council meetings. He had to endure sitting through days of stuffy old men arguing, and none of them paid attention when he talked. When he was king, he decided, he would do away with all of these meetings.

"On the subject of the wild boy," the king mused. "We can't let him go, because we can't risk Valeria getting to him, but we can't seem to contain him here, either. He nearly turned the stables to dust the other day."

Francis perked up at the mention of the stranger. Various noblemen burst into speech, all talking over one another about risks and potential and filthy blooded savages.

"Let me see him," Francis said, turning pleading eyes on his father. "Please, Father. He's around my age, right? Maybe he just feels lonely."

"My lord," one of the nobleman sitting across from him said, "with all due respect, you're much too young to understand this situation."

"It's much too dangerous, Francis," the king reprimanded gently.

"He's not violent though, right?" Francis demanded, jumping out of his seat to run to his father's side. "Or he would've torn this place apart by now! He's just scared, that's all!"

"They're basically the same thing when it comes to someone as dangerous as him," the nobleman sniffed.

"Just a little peek," Francis pleaded. "Lord Flourite can stay with me and help if something happens!"

The king glanced at the Head Mage, who only shrugged and nodded. Francis brightened up considerably.

"Alright," the king allowed, "but you must leave right away if he shows any signs of harming you. Head Mage?"

Lord Fluorite stood and bowed, then beckoned at Francis to follow him out of the room.


Francis stood at the doorway and peered into the room. The small boy was crouched in a corner of the room, eyes closed. Suddenly, he jerked and whimpered in his sleep.

Ignoring the shouts of alarm from the guards, Francis slipped into the room and settled beside him. He ran his hand gently through his hair and said quietly, "Shhh. You're not alone anymore, okay? Don't be scared."

The boy sighed in his sleep and turned towards Francis, a small hand coming out to hold onto his own.

"I'm lonely too," Francis whispered, "and I'm tired of war meetings and strategy planning, but now you're here and we can be not lonely together, right?"


"You're really quite dirty," Francis said with a small smile as he watched the boy splash around and wash himself. He pointed a finger at himself and said firmly, "Francis."

After a scowl and a moment of hesitation, the boy said in return, "Arthur."

"Arthur," Francis said gleefully, "we're going to have a lot of fun together."

Arthur frowned and grabbed at Francis's hair. Alarmed, the prince backed up, only to slip on a puddle of water.

The wild boy looked at him lying on the ground for a few moments and laughed.

"That was mean," Francis pouted, though he was laughing as well. He propped himself up. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you laugh, my friend. I like it."


"Like this!" Excitedly, Francis drew the bowstring as he had been taught. He let go, and the arrow thumped onto the target. "See? It's easy?'

Arthur scowled at him. He chose an arrow and put it to the bow, then drew it sideways.

"No, no! You're doing it wrong!" Francis scrambled over and corrected Arthur's posture.

At least, he tried to, but Arthur swatted him away. "No touch," he shouted, and Francis backed away.

"No touching," Francis agreed. Instead, he stood beside Arthur and mimicked holding a bow and arrow. Laboriously, Arthur copied his movements. "Right, now just draw back, by your ear."

Francis watched Arthur watch him, bright green eyes narrowed, before he shifted his attention to his bow and let the arrow loose. Francis cheered as it grazed the target, throwing an arm around Arthur in victory.

Suddenly, Arthur tensed. Francis froze as well, aware of the no touching rule they had laid down just moments earlier.

"Sorry," Francis said as he dropped his arm. He raced away to collect the arrows, aware of Arthur's thoughtful gaze on him the entire time.


The castle mages soon learned that the wild boy refused to eat, study, sleep, or generally comply with any instructions unless Francis was there. As a result, Francis spent a good amount of his time tucked away in a corner, watching as Arthur mastered spell after spell with little to no trouble at all.

"He's a real prodigy," Lord Fluorite told the king after Arthur had been at the castle for a year. "We're lucky to have him."

"When will he be ready to go to the front?"

"He's still too young and unpredictable," the Head Mage said. "Give me another three or four years to teach him magic, and teach him our ways as well, and we can use him."

"If Arthur's going to fight, I want to too!" Francis declared, but as per usual, he was ignored by the rest of the men in the room.


"Hey, Arthur!" Francis knelt down and watched as the green fire slowly melted away from Arthur's eyes. The wild boy blinked a few times before focusing on Francis. "Were you just talking to your fairies again?"

"Yeah." Francis noticed that Arthur seemed sad, hidden away from the world in this nook of the castle.

Francis motioned at Arthur to scoot over so that he could wiggle in and squeeze himself into place beside him. Once he was settled, he asked, "Why don't you ever play with real people?"

"Fairies are real," Arthur said defensively.

Francis nodded reassuringly. "Of course. But why don't you play with any of the village boys? You don't always have to stick around me in the castle, you know."

"Do you want me to leave?" Arthur asked sullenly.

"Of course not!" Francis cried.

"Then shut up."

Francis frowned. They sat in silence for a few moments before he felt Arthur shift, slowly, until he was leaning against Francis's side instead of the wall. Francis didn't hesitate to pull an arm around him and tug him closer.


"You're leaving?" Agitated, Francis watched as Arthur haphazardly stuffed materials into his personal bag. "Why?"

"To the front," Arthur replied tersely.

"What? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I'm coming with you!" Francis was about to storm to his father's room when a rough hand grabbed his arm.

"You can't come," Arthur said slowly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're the Crown Prince. They can't risk you in war."

"You're not going anywhere without me!" Francis cried firmly, stamping his foot.

"I don't want to go anywhere with you!" Arthur snapped. Francis was used to similar complaints and paid no heed to his words, especially since Arthur always ended up by him sooner or later.

"I order you to stay here," Francis tried, meeting Arthur's eyes squarely.

"I am not yours to order," Arthur retorted. "I serve my country!" He brushed past Francis and stormed down the hallway.

"Don't leave," Francis called out, but his voice cracked and he faltered. "I'll miss you," he said softly, but if Arthur heard, he gave no indication.


Bleary-eyed, Francis made his way to Arthur's room and knocked on the door.

Arthur opened the door and frowned at him. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I heard a loud noise," Francis explained, quickly looking him over and determining that nothing was broken. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me," Arthur said quietly, closing the door.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Francis pushed the door open again and slipped into the room. "Why do you keep on hiding from me now? I barely see you anymore! You were at the front for nearly five years, and then you come back and don't even come to visit me!"

"We must both do what is necessary to serve our country," Arthur said stiffly, gesturing at the pile of books on his writing desk. "You have your place, my lord, and I have mine."

Francis's face twisted into an ugly smile. "I am more than only a Crown Prince, my friend."

"D-Don't call me that," Arthur said, head bowed. He gripped his staff tightly, his tunic sliding slightly upwards. "I am nothing but a humble servant to my lord."

"Arthur," Francis whispered, reaching out for the other's arm. Arthur recoiled immediately, shrinking away from his touch, and the bruises on his neck were thrown into plain sight by the torchlight. "Let me help you, my friend."

"You can't do everything," Arthur snapped, not meeting Francis's eyes. "I'm fine."

Helpless, Francis could only clench his fists and vow to punish those who had broken Arthur.


"Lord Fluorite," Francis started, but the Head Mage raised his hand.

"I wish you no disrespect by interrupting, Your Majesty, but before you continue, I wish to tell you that I want to retire from my position as Head Mage and," he continued, as Francis watched him, "I would recommend young Arthur to fill my place."

Francis bowed his head. "I would do ill to ignore any advice from you, Lord Fluorite."

"You're not fooling anyone," Lord Fluorite said with a small smile. "There was never much doubt that you would promote him when you took the throne."

Francis flushed, but forced himself to smile back. "I'm glad you understand, Lord Fluorite. You have this kingdom's humblest thanks for your services."

"You'll be a great king," Lord Fluorite said before he left the room. "Greater than your father was, as he was greater than his father before him. I can see it now, Your Majesty. You rule with your heart, and your heart is pure and just. We can ask for nothing more."


"Arthur! I'd like to see you," Francis called out. He halted in his steps. "Now," Francis added firmly.

Arthur turned around and walked to his doorway hesitantly. "Your Majesty," he started stiffly, "there is urgent business -"

"That can wait," Francis said, pulling Arthur into his room and closing the door. He ignored the loud protests and forced Arthur to look at him. "What happened, my friend? What happened to you?"

"As Head Mage, I really must supervise -"

"They'll be fine without you for a few moments, I"m sure." Francis watched him carefully. "You've been running and hiding from me for months, Arthur, but no longer. Tell me what changed between us."

"I am nothing but a savage dressed in noble clothes," Arthur whispered quietly, looking away. "Your Majesty is king of a powerful land. I don't deserve -"

"Who told you that?"

Arthur shrugged and tried to pull away from Francis's grasp.

"Answer me," Francis demanded. "Arthur, don't I deserve to know?"

"Everyone," Arthur snapped, suddenly slapping away Francis's hand and stalking to the other side of the room. He paced up and down. "No one. I could tell; I wasn't a fool. They all talked, and sometimes I heard them, sometimes I didn't, but even I could see that I didn't belong!"

"Don't say that!" Francis reached out towards Arthur, trying desperately to calm him down. Small sparks lit up the room.

"I am nothing," Arthur shouted, gesturing to himself, "compared to you, or anyone else in this palace. I am a tool, a weapon, nothing more, and you're a fool if you think any different!"

Francis saw Arthur's shoulders slump in defeat and advanced slowly, drawing closer until he was able to pull him into a hug. "You are everything to me," Francis whispered.

"Liar." Arthur's voice was muffled against his chest.

"Everything," Francis repeated. He released Arthur but kept him close, pressing soft kisses to the trails of tears on his cheeks.

Arthur reached up and tangled his hands in Francis's hair, pulling him down for a kiss. When they separated, both breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against Francis's chest. "You fool," he whispered.


“D-Don’t,” Arthur gasped as Francis slowly trailed kisses down his neck.

“Arthur,” Francis murmured, nuzzling into his collarbone. “What’s wrong?”


Francis watched as Arthur flinched away from him, and an understanding slowly overtook him. Nearly numb with newly found rage, he sat back, away from Arthur. “Did they – were you – at the front -”

“Nothing happened,” Arthur snapped immediately, backing away. “No one did anything to me.”

“No,” Francis hissed, “it didn’t stop there, did it? They continued in the palace – right under my very nose -”

“Y-You’re delusional,” Arthur managed to reply. He started to slide off the bed, but Francis caught his wrist. Arthur looked at him sharply. Francis caught the slight glimmer of fear in his eyes and let go immediately.

“Give me their names,” Francis said quietly. “Give me their names, and I swear no one will ever touch you against your will again, Arthur. I’ll protect you, I swear it!”

“I don’t need your protection,” Arthur spat, hurrying to the door. “I can take care of myself!”

“Arthur!” Francis leapt after him, but Arthur whirled around and turned on him.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed, and Francis froze where he was. Arthur looked at him and said, voice wavering, “I don’t want you to touch me!”

“Arthur,” Francis could only repeat pleadingly as Arthur stormed out and slammed the door behind him.


Francis soon discovered it was impossible to find Arthur if he did not want to be found. The palace was too big for them to easily run into each other, and everyone who was sent to fetch the Head Mage returned with dazed expressions on their faces and a few minutes of memories wiped. In desperation, Francis took to prowling the grounds, hoping to stumble upon Arthur somewhere relatively quiet.

It was sheer luck that he happened to see Arthur, with his back turned, near the edge of the trees. He hurriedly approached, just as the mage turned, eyes glowing green.

Francis immediately looked around, but saw nothing, as usual. “Tell the faeries I said hi,” he offered weakly.

“They can hear you perfectly fine,” Arthur murmured, a strange tone of wonder in his voice. Francis watched as his eyes slowly faded in color before Arthur blinked several times and fixed him with an angry glare.

“I have no wish to speak to you,” he said coldly, taking off towards the trees.

“Arthur, wait! Please, I just want to help -”

“You can’t,” Arthur shouted back. “You can’t do anything!”

“I’ll punish those who did it!” Francis promised again, but Arthur turned on him with a furious scowl.

“You don’t realize what you’re saying.” His hands trembled as he drew his cloak closer around him. “You don’t realize how many people you would have to punish, as you say. You don’t know - I don’t even know – how, h-how many -”

“Shhh,” Francis said soothingly, stretching a hand out towards Arthur. “You’ll be alright, okay? I promise.”

Arthur turned away from him. When he spoke, his voice was hollow. “I have no right to be favored by a king.”

“Arthur,” Francis said firmly, coming to stand in front of him. “You are the bravest man I know. I am blessed to know you, and there is certainly no one else I would give my favor to so effortlessly. You deserve it completely, for both your services to your country and the wrongs the people of this country have done you.”

“Don’t -”

“I love you,” Francis whispered.

Arthur said nothing and turned away, but he allowed Francis to lay a comforting hand on his arm.


"Fool,” Arthur grumbled, not without affection. “How many years has it been since you’ve been crowned?”

“Many,” Francis replied with a small grin.

“You should know better than to provoke your war council like that,” Arthur scolded, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

“My dear Arthur,” Francis murmured, pulling him closer for a kiss. “I just want the whole world to see how happy I am with you, how much I love you.”

Arthur flushed slightly, but smiled and leaned in. “I suppose I love you too, you fool.”


A/N - Huge thanks again to [livejournal.com profile] chalkpowder for looking it over! Any remaining mistakes are completely mine (since I was in a rush to post this, so I haven't actually had this final version beta'd yet ;;) Hope you all enjoyed!
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
Account name:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.


Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.


burningdarkfire: (Default)

December 2011

181920212223 24


Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags