Alfred had been busking. One thing about being the bastard son is that he did not have a public profile at all. He is officially recognized as legitimate but everyone knows better but few knew what he looks like. He had been sickly most of his life and his mother had been overprotective and most of his time had been spent with his grandfather.
He had no interest in the royal court or anything that would have been considered his duties. To everyone's chagrin he had shunned them. He'd traveled away from England to mainland Europe, settled in Oslo for the time being.
That's where he'd met Ivar. Initially he hadn't known who Ivar was. They'd met when Ivar had stopped to listen to him playing. It'd been a freezing day and Ivar had invited him to his place for something warm to drink and Alfred hadn't been able to refuse. His fingers were getting painful as he would strum his guitars with the chill in the air.
He didn't have to busk but he didn't want his families money and he had been living off what he made -- which was enough.
Now they'd been seeing each other regularly. Alfred half moved into Ivar's with how frequently he stayed over since his own small efficiency studio was not condusive to Ivar's needs.
This morning he's awakened by Ivar angrily talking on the phone. It's not hard to figure out he's the topic of conversation and he frowns, listening to the argument. He can hear both sides of the conversation but he stays still and quiet so Ivar believes that he is still asleep or at least he'd hope as much.
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He had no interest in the royal court or anything that would have been considered his duties. To everyone's chagrin he had shunned them. He'd traveled away from England to mainland Europe, settled in Oslo for the time being.
That's where he'd met Ivar. Initially he hadn't known who Ivar was. They'd met when Ivar had stopped to listen to him playing. It'd been a freezing day and Ivar had invited him to his place for something warm to drink and Alfred hadn't been able to refuse. His fingers were getting painful as he would strum his guitars with the chill in the air.
He didn't have to busk but he didn't want his families money and he had been living off what he made -- which was enough.
Now they'd been seeing each other regularly. Alfred half moved into Ivar's with how frequently he stayed over since his own small efficiency studio was not condusive to Ivar's needs.
This morning he's awakened by Ivar angrily talking on the phone. It's not hard to figure out he's the topic of conversation and he frowns, listening to the argument. He can hear both sides of the conversation but he stays still and quiet so Ivar believes that he is still asleep or at least he'd hope as much.