AN: So during history my teacher got us to present about different conflicts. Me and my friend(Random Cookie Monster) chose to do the Cold War and created Hetalia puppets to tell others about it. The teacher left a question for each group, as did every other group member too. The question she left us was 'What if Britain had been a communist country?'... Well shipping RusUK... Hehe this came to mind. Elizabeth was born 1926, Margaret in 1930 and the cold war started 945, Winston Churchill was Prime Minister in that year. When exactly the Cold Wars started is often debated, so I chose the one I felt would make more sense, as it is the year I see that would cause more of a negative effect on England.
Cold WarAlliances
The year was 1945, the start of the 'cold war' between America and Russia. The British Government had become Communist, due to the lack of confidence in the American President's actions. They chose to follow the Russian ideal of society. Everyone helps each other. England himself had been unsure if this was a good idea, but his Prime Minister was very insistent, so he conceded.
Churchill and Stalin had many talks and often seemed to agree on Truman, both not always seeing eye to eye with the American and sometime each other but not to the same degree. Stalin had offered an alliance between England and Russia, a stronger one than before to help both their countries. It meant that England spent more time with Russia during these talks.
Both had more in common than originally thought. They got on, often sitting and drinking tea in the Englishman's garden. Russia admired the flowers in the garden, often commented about the different kinds he had. They became friends, England saw that Russia was not as bad as he was made out to be.
America had panicked, and accused England of conspiring with Russia. That or that Russia had brainwashing England into turning to Communism. America also babbled about how Russia might have blackmailed England. The nonsense kept spewing from the American's lips.
Then America bombed England. America was scared that due to England's closer geological position to himself, hearing that Communism would quickly spread to the other allied countries and then finally to America. So America's President, Truman, had ordered the bombing. America had little say in the matter, only making sure it was not an atomic bomb.
What America did not realise was that it was the bomb was not just one bomb, it was twenty bombs designated to the most important places in England.
It was too late by the time he relised it.
England whined and moving to try to pick himself up along with checking on Princess Elizabeth. He had shielded her as much as he could, trying to keep her safe while London was bombed to the ground.
Arthur was in pain and had blood running from the many cuts and wounds made by the violent attacks from his former charge. He could tell it was America, it was the feeling he got in his gut.
Focusing on breathing, as much as he could. He could hear other nations: France, America; Canada, who were looking for him now and he knew his brothers and sister would soon be here. Pushing himself from his protective position above Princess Elizabeth he felt bad for possibly hurting her. "P-Princess... Eliz-zabeth." England gasps. "A-are you in pain?"
There was no answer, but England could no longer bare the pain, his people were dying, his royal family were in danger, many were dead from the pain he was in. His Prime Minister was dead, he could tell that. His beloved Churchill, who had led him through most of the Second World War. He knew Elizabeth was dead too... He could feel it in his heart. By the way it was being torn to pieces by his King and Queen's dead, along with their eldest daughter, the next in line to the throne was not little Margaret, who could be in danger. Yet England could do no more than lay on the destroyed streets and pray for the pain to end.
He vaguely hear France approaching calling to the others. "I've found him!" Arthur felt his immediate reaction, which was to run away. Escape the approaching danger. America was approaching him.
France saw the nineteen year old women on the ground. "Mon Dieu! Princess Elizabeth!" France exclaimed as he checked the young Princess, upon checking for any sign of life he swore, the next in line to the British Royal Family Throne was dead. Moving France reached out to touch England.
"Do not touch him, da." A thick voice spoke from somewhere to England's left. The voice lacked it's normal childish tone.
"Russia." Canada almost whimpered. Russia stood ahead of the group, his violet eyes glaring at the nations who were about to move England. Russia looked murderous. His normal childlike innocence gone. He had a expression of pure hate and anger on his face, most of which was directed at America.
"You Commie bastard! You have no right to tell us what to do!" America yelled.
Russia smiled, a humorless one at that. "Does that not also make Артур a 'commie bastard'? After all he joined me on his own call. He did not choose to join in this war. He did not choose sides. You forced his hand."
America fumed at this. "You did something to him! There's no way he'd do something like join you!"
Russia knelt and softly, with gentleness he should not have had cradled the Englishman's head, supporting his neck. England opened his eyes and tried to sit himself up, but the pain caused him to crumple. "Артур, your young Princess Margaret is safe. you need not fear for your country at the moment, after all I am here to help you now, da?" Russia spoke to England softly, then he looked at the deceased Princesses body, frowning.
France moved slowly, so not to cause the Russian any need to attack. "I assume you are going to look after Angleterre, non?" He asked.
Russia looked up at France and nodded. "Da, you all need to leave. You are not welcome by my troops. I am sorry, Фрэнсис and Мэтью, but Америка has made it so we are not very trusting, понял?"
France and Canada nodded and backed away, both ready to leave, America on the other hand was ready for a fight. "I'm not leaving Iggy here with you!" America growled.
At this France tried to quickly grab the American before he could do anything stupid. It was however too late. America had dashed at Russia and Russia instinctively placed England back on the floor and pulled his lead pipe out to deflect any blow and deal them when needed. America however had other plans.
Kicking the pipe so Russia stumbled back, America grabbed England and quickly backed up. England froze, his body tensing, then he suddenly started to struggle in America's grasp. "N-no!" England half screamed. He managed to elbow America in the gut and it was not that the blow hurt, but the shock of England attacking him, caused America to loosen his grip.
Russia quickly rushed the American, freeing England and swinging his pipe which connected harshly with America's head. England ran, despite his injuries and pains, he didn't get far at all but he tried. England ducked under some near by rubble and curled himself into a protective ball under it.
It was then that England's siblings showed. Scotland, Wales, North Ireland and South Ireland came into view yelling England's name. "Arthur!" South Ireland cried as she spotted her younger brother under the rubble. When she spotted the American nation she flew into a rage. "What on god's green earth do ya think ya were doin'!" She snarled at him as she went to attack the downed nation.
It was North Ireland that stopped her. He glared at America over his twin sisters shoulder.
Scotland had climbed under the rubble and was sat by the youngest Kirkland's side. It was Wales, who was usually the less violent of the siblings, that attacked his baby brother's former colony and charge. "Rydych yn brat anniolchgar!" Is the Welsh nations enraged yell as he kicked the still reeling nation from the blow to the head from Russia.
However when Wales' attack didn't seem to stop North Ireland took it upon himself to stop this getting out of hand. "An Bhreatain Bheag, Ní gá a mharú air!" At this Wales stopped, his rage barely contained as he spat at the nation, he stalked back to his siblings. Russia had watched the scene with a look of mostly indifference to the American's pain, and a hint of sadness at the siblings distress.
Scotland had scooped England into his arms and moved to be behind Russia, holding his brother so he could not see America. "Russia, what ye gonna do?" Scotland asked, refusing to meet the three other nations gaze. Even if it was only one of their faults for his brothers condition.
Russia looked at Scotland, his eyes drift to look at England. "Well, Шотландия, you, Уэльс, Северная Ирландия, Южная Ирландия and Англия will be living with me while my troop protect your land, da?" Russia looked back over his shoulder at the intruders to the Island nation.
Wales spoke first. "Deall."
Then it North and South Ireland both saying. "Thuiscint."
Scotland merely nodded.
The siblings agreed, and without a glance back they left with Russia, leaving America, France and Canada to be forced out by Russian and British troops.
Once in Russia the siblings were led to the Winter Palace. It was beautiful, and England who had regain enough strength to walk, with the aid of Scotland admired the architecture that went into building such a wonderful place. "Wow... It's lovely." England breathed, Russia had found warmer clothes at the airport, so the cold did not penetrate them too much.
Ivan smiled happily. "Da, it is." Ivan led them to the door and opened it, taking them through the halls, until they were in the grand hall. Once upon a time the monarchs and nobility of Russia gathered. Grand balls were once held in these walls, laughter and chatter once filled the room, made it alive with light and sound.
In the middle of the room sat a gramophone and seats that had been moved into the hall by Russian troops, that now guarded the palace, because Ivan had wanted to make the it more homely to the guest that was already in the room. A young girl stood, her hair was blond and she wore a light blue dress, she was 15 and the island nations recognised her immediately.
"Princess Margaret!" Arthur cried in relief, leaving his brother's side and aid to reach the young Princess. Princess Margaret turned and smiled, she ran to meet Arthur halfway.
"Mister Arthur!" She buried her face into his chest and hugged him tightly. Arthur smiled and gave her comfort.
Allistor, Dylan, Connor and Gráinne sat on the seats that were placed there for them. Arthur separated from Margaret and they both sat too, Ivan walked to the gramophone and played the record that was set on the wheel. The soft melody of the symphony fill the room, rebuffing off the walls. Margaret started to sway to the melody. She soon stood when a Russian General offered to teach her the dance to the melody. Ivan sat next to Arthur, Arthur looked content and happy. That made Ivan happy.
Allistor, Dylan, Connor and Gráinne watched their youngest brother and Ivan, seeing how they reacted to each other, when they turned to watch Margaret dance they just caught a glance of Ivan leaning closer to Arthur and whispering something to him before stealing a kiss from the Briton.
Once the music stopped the General bowed to the Princess and she curtsied back, then she rejoin the nations. She looked to Ivan and asked softly. "Mister Russia, this is such a lovely house, why does no one live here anymore? I know about the royalty that once resided in Russia, but do you not want to live here yourself?"
Ivan thought about the question. "I suppose I still expect there to once again be a royal family here." He spoke, and stared longingly at where the dancing once took place, a distant memory of his and the ghosts that haunted his mind. "This place was once full of life and my dear Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna, who was so full of life once lived here, and I often wished she would return." Ivan sounded sad.
"She was never found, right?" Allistor asked as he crossed his legs.
Ivan sighed. "Well, нет. The DNA tests they did not long ago found that she had indeed died, which I knew, I felt it as Arthur felt Elizabeth's death... She was two years younger than your poor Princess Elizabeth, and two years older than young Princess Margaret." Ivan stood and walked aimlessly slightly. "If these halls could be brought back to life once more..." He trailed off, lost deep in the memories that seemed almost faded from how long ago they were.
Arthur watched Ivan thoughtfully. "Princess Margaret, you are next in line to the throne now... It would be unsafe to take you back to Britain now, if you ask Russia nicely he might let you live here for the near future." Arthur suggested.
Princess Margaret nodded and stood, she approached Ivan who was now looking at her. She curtsied and spoke in a soft voice. "Mister Russia, sir, I am unable to return to my home as it is unsafe. Could I please stay in your most beautiful Winter Palace?" She asked, watching Ivan with hopeful eyes.
Ivan smiled, happy and loving. "Princess Margaret of the United Kingdom Of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, it would be my, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics pleasure to have you live in the Winter Palace." His voice is soft and warm. He then turned to the nations. "Алистер, Дилан, Коннор and Грейн, you may stay here too."
Arthur looked at Ivan confused. "And what about me?"
Ivan smiled, not the creepy smile he normally wore, but a smile of pure adoration.
"Артур, would you become one with me and stay close?"
Translations(some may be inaccurate, but hay-ho):
{French}
Mon Dieu- My god
Angleterre- England
{Russian}
Артур- Arthur
Алистер- Allistor
Дилан- Dylan
Коннор- Connor
Грейн- Gráinne
Da- Yes(Дa would be the actual spelling, but that meant copying and pasting too much.)
понял- understood
Фрэнсис- Francis
Мэтью- Matthew
Америка- America
Шотландия- Scotland
Уэльс- Wales
Северная Ирландия- Northern Ireland
Южная Ирландия- Southern Ireland
Англия- England
нет- no
{Welsh}
Rydych yn brat anniolchgar- you ungrateful brat
Deall- understood
{Irish}
An Bhreatain Bheag, Ní gá a mharú air- Wales, do not kill him
Thuiscint- understood