It is the second time they meet.
At first, he is piercing through rushing wind and soaring through green fields in panic. His people have failed, they could not fulfill his one request and he would be the one to suffer loss. He is hopeless, desperate even. He knows he can no longer win; there is so little time and so much to be searched. His people have long abandoned him and he is now alone to search a continent. Not even magic could help him at this point.
His knees brush prickling grass and he is no longer running but scrambling. There are vines and leaves and trees and the universe decides that his pain is not nearly enough. His cutlass would've spared him much with the greenery but in haste he had forgotten it. All of a sudden he stumbles and there is mud on his hands and grass on his face.
Then there is a scream.
It is loud and annoying and Arthur wants to flee before he is turned deaf. But as he rises to do so, he realizes that it, whatever the thing might be, might have been harmed because of him. He curses to himself and turns around and there is no wicked beast or wild barbarian that he expects but a boy whose eyes twinkle like stars.
Days later he returns with presents, there is chocolate and there is a toy he has seen children awe over much back home. He will love it, he hopes. The goal is no longer to defeat Francis, it now is to win the boys acceptance.
The journey is as challenging and the sky dares to darken when he sees him. He is jumping and running and laughing and Arthur is all the more enraptured. Their eyes meet and suddenly he is on the ground when the bundle of joy collides into him.
"You're back! You're back! Oh! Have you brought me something?"
Then his bag is in the younger's hand and he is ravaging through it. One by one his items are brought out and inspected; it is only when he sees the toy that he stops.
It is wrapped delicately with red fabric and there is a white bow to complete its image. He gives it a tug, and then another and when the fabric refuses to budge and before England could even blink his eyes, it is sent in eight different directions as eight different pieces. He makes no move to collect them; he doesn't need to see to know they're completely unsalvageable.
Which brought him back to wonder: just how?
But the boy is now looking at him and his heart quenches when he sees the sadness in his blue eyes. Something so innocent could not be held blamed for such a mishap. He sits next to him and retrieves his bag, the boy looking curiously as he sticks out the chocolate bar.
"Your people are strange. Is this what they use to fight in your country?"
And Arthur has to stop himself from looking amused by busying himself with unwrapping it.
"Not unless gifting weapons is typical here, no. It's a special treat back where I'm from, care for a taste?"
The younger looks at the bar and takes a small bite from one corner. His thoughtful expression disappears and then he is humming as he chews.
"What is this?" And his voice is struck with wonder at the tingling on his tongue where the candy had once been.
"It is called chocolate, it's a delicacy and not many do try it in their lifetime. I thought you would love something like this."
"I do!" He screams it too fast with too much enthusiasm. The fact that it is immensely valuable is clear, but he is desperate for another taste, if only a lick.
Arthur had expected it. "Good, because I had planned to give it to you. But don't think I'm doing it for free. In return for the bar I shall have..."
The boy nodded eagerly.
"...your name."
The boy splits into a grin and then he is jumping up and down.
"Really?" And as though the word would make the moment even more real he repeats it.
"Really, really, really, reallyy?"
"Yes boy, really." Arthur laughs at the spectacle and then two small fists grip at his knees in a hug.
"I'm Alfred!" and once he has the candy securely settled in his hands, he rattles off again, "Thank you mister so much, you're so wonderful to me, will you visit again?"
"Yes Alfred, I will, and if you want I could bring you more treats?" The boy exaggeratedly nods and Arthur laughs once more, "Also, there's no need to call me mister, Arthur will do just fine."
Not long afterwards, there is a home they share and the little brother he so eagerly wished for. But work is unkind and the ocean is vast and travel is slow and they are apart for months. He returns after nearly a year and it is only the twinkling eyes that are same about Alfred. There is no difference in their height and barely a breath in his lungs when the teen suffocates him in an embrace.
They are doing this more often now it seems. Sleeping night after night in the large garden that surrounds his house. Lying besides one another, feet brushing tickling grass, cold night breeze and dancing flowers surround them as they gaze upon the billions of diamonds that decorate the violet endlessness.
It is silent, there's no sound but for the wind. They do not speak, instead they gaze at the sky with pure awe, occasionally pointing out one or two particularly outstanding stars before lapsing into the silence.
It is Arthur who breaks it.
"Truly, Alfred. Your sky is breathtaking to look upon. Sometimes I wish the stars are as clear at home, but unfortunately it is not so. If there is anything I love most about your country, it would be this."
Alfred let's a small grin appear on his face but doesn't fully turn his head, "Jeez, man, that hurts. I thought that I was your most favorite thing about this country."
Arthur makes an effort to smack him, "Ha ha ha. Hilarious, keep up that sass and we'll be going over Roman history again." At the younger's groan, he smirks and says, "Exactly."
Neither say anything after that, and just when Arthur feel that it is time they retreat to the indoor comfort of their home, Alfred speaks.
"You know brother..." He drawls out as if asking confirmation to continue.
"Mhmm?"
"I didn't think you'd be like this."
The starry sky suddenly doesn't seem as interesting and Arthur turns entirely so that he is facing the other.
"What I mean is, my leaders... Back then, they used to warn me of people like you, other nations. They said that you were monsters and that if ever I see you I should run."
There is a flower in his hand, he twirls it between each finger as though he is a wise man contemplating the existence of all humanity, not as though he is a thirteen year old which, in short time, is going to get dragged into bed by his fussy brother.
"Then why...?"
"When I first met you, I didn't know you were a nation, afterwards when I figured it out, it didn't matter anymore because you were great to me. There was nothing scary or monstrous or anything like that about you..."
Suddenly he laughed, "Well, except for your eyebrows! Those things can scare anybody man! I remember I screamed so hard when I first saw them! I still have nightm- hey! Ouch! Stop it, haha, ouch!"
For a few moments after that, the silence returned, save for the occasional thwacks and the cursing that followed.
After they both calmed, Alfred continued.
"But honestly... You turned out to be the best caretaker I could've ever asked for. Despite your terrible temper and absentees... You were always so kind and caring and wonderful... You gave me more than I could've imagined... You never seemed to mind how tiring I was even... Even when you were exhausted from work..."
Arthur had been startled into silence long ago, a small part of his mind, underneath all the emotion flooding him, wondered just would bring on such a revelation.
"I just... It's that... Actually... Just, thank you. Thank you so very much for everything you've ever done to me. Thank you so much for raising me even when I was so ungrateful. Thank you so much, so, so much, for being my family and the best brother I could've ever had."
Two shy hands wrap around him in an embrace and it's Alfred's last muffled mutter that startles him out of his stupor.
"I love you."
And Arthur is so engrossed in his happiness, he thinks he is walking down a path to paradise and cannot see the fire and demons and pain that patiently wait.
"They've raised our taxes yet again!"
"What do they take us for, delinquents? They not only disregard our opinion, but rob us to clear their debts as well?!"
"Do they think they have the rights to reduce us to slaves? That because they had brought larger ships and deadlier weapons our land up can be claimed as theirs? That our people can be named as their property?"
"You speak but the truth, my friend. We must fight them before they force us to flee or drag us in chains. They have dismissed us several times too many, they have ignored our warnings, now we shall fight tooth and nail for our freedom."
"They think they are mighty for being the first to have colonized our land, we will teach them just why it is so. Even if we fight with the swords of our ancestors or the machinery they have brought into our land. Even if we charge with empty hands and bare feet. Even if we lose, and pray it is not to be. Then we will teach our children with tales so they may carry out the deed!"
"You have the words of a leader, George, but do not let the British hear you. They will not allow you to breathe fresh air again in life if they capture you. You've heard the tales haven't you."
"Too many times that I can no longer forgive them."
Not long afterwards, they fight.
The Americans demand more rights and less tax, he does not think the boy just quite understands what he means when he says that they are taxed the least out of all the others. But Alfred is screaming and Arthur has had enough of the misbehavior.
He is raging right back and confines the younger to his room till he learns to apologize. For a moment, as they each stand on the opposing side of the doorway, all they do is stare, and he is certain Alfred is thinking just how cruel a monster his brother is truly turning out to be.
Alfred huffs and just before slamming the door he turns to hiss, "Go and burn in hell, England."
And Arthur has to remind himself to breathe.
Then there is a war.
There is the sky that darkens with heavy clouds and rain that pours on land where the Americans have won their freedom. They march off merrily as they chatter and sing and dance and celebrate and England can only watch through blurry eyes. The French follow and then the Prussians, amused and yet so satisfied at the misery they have caused.
There are two figures that stood amongst the commotion. Two pairs of eyes, one red, another blue watch him from afar and he does not care that it is perhaps the first time they have seen him ever cry. His soldiers left next knowing that there is nothing they could change and they accept their defeat readily.
Then he is alone. His clothes are drenched with blood and tears and rain. The ground beneath him is the only thing he can hold on to and he grips at it with desperation. His body is weak with exhaustion and it is possible that he might've collapsed just then if it isn't for the pair of hands that lift him onto his feet.
Red eyes, pale skin, white hair and an expression of concern that belongs nowhere on the face of a man that at last has crushed his enemy. The albino repositions him so that he was easier to drag and swings Arthur arm across his shoulder. He turns his head to look at the other then snorts.
"Francis was right. You truly are a fool."
Arthur turns at the gab, expression becoming murderous, "Have you nothing to do but come insult after you have taken all that I live for?"
Had it not been for his current state, he would've punched the other so mercilessly that he would've seen even worse than Arthur did then.
"Nein, Francis sent me to retrieve you before they can no longer identify you from the mud." Gilbert clarifies.
"Secondly, I had called you a fool for the reason that, even with all the centuries that have passed, you have yet to realize the risk of attaching yourself so much to another. In truth, Francis had expected you to figure it out the quickest, especially with how much you had wanted to be ridden of Rome's control."
Arthur growls dangerously at the mentions of the deceased nation, Gilbert paying him no mind.
"Truly Arthur, did you think that the boy would be compliant whilst you toyed him and his people like puppets? He spoke of you as though you were his dictator. You are not aware, but his people have talked to him behind your back before.
They have taught him where you have not, they have shown him just the possibilities he could achieve- what a powerful, mighty nation his people could become- once he relinquished your hold on him. It was not his, but their, intention to cause a war. However, he knew that conflict was necessary in favor for justice."
Gilbert could've almost seen the thoughts running through Arthur's head, all the what ifs scenarios, the maybes, the possibilities...
Well if he isn't going to figure it out for himself...
"So, I will offer you my advice: forget about him. With this war, he has won much respect within the powers of Europe and none would dare attack him. However, you have many other colonies which I know you have neglected in this war, return to them and correct yourself in where you have guided America wrongly."
Arthur ignores him entirely.
"Gilbert. Spare me your attempts at wisdom and tell, just what has France sent you to inform me of?"
Gilbert glares at Arthur, and then glares harder, in hopes that maybe, just maybe he can knock some sense into his stubborn head.
"There will be a meeting held two weeks as of now in order to sign several documents as well as to discuss America's independence. There will be very few present, several generals, our bosses and Francis, America, you and I."
Green eyes narrow, furrowed eyebrows casting a frightening shadow across his face. "I do not wish to see that boy ever again."
Gilbert eyes soften, "Arthur, he has never meant to hurt you."
Least expectedly, Arthur laughs, and it is bitter, and tired, and broken.
"Truly? Then tell him just how much he had failed in that."
.
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AN: Written over the course of several airplane rides, headaches and nights of missed sleep. Anywho, if all goes to plan, there should be two more chapters to follow.
Also, pleasee do rate and review. Farewellations!