England sighed in irritation as he trudged up the path towards his oldest brother's house. Why was it always assumed to be his fault when things went wrong in Europe exactly? It wasn't like he could control the other countries bosses. And to make matters worse he'd been told to go make relations more amicable with that damned brother of his, for once not by his Prime Minister, but by the King. England kicked a few stones out his way as he rounded the corner, he was looking forward to getting this over with so he could get home and make a nice cup of tea. The British nation stopped as he heard the tinkling laughter of Scotland's fae nearby, followed quickly by what sounded like... a young child's voice? Curiosity now well and truly piqued, England followed the sound to its source, the edge of Scotland's orchard. England stared at the sight; a little boy, probably no older than 4 years old was chasing the fairies around the trees. The fairies stopped and stared at England, causing the boy chasing after them to stop too,
"Why did ye stop?" he asked. The fairy closest to him motioned over to where England stood, watching. The child froze, clearly unsure what to do,
"U... Umm... can I help ye?" he asked. The fact that the question was directed at him caused England to snap out of his stupor and come marching over to the child. The little boy backed up nervously, while the fairies suddenly swarmed the other country,
"Leave the child be!" one of them snapped, "He is not yours to take!" England glared at the little creature, then at the others that were glaring at him. He snorted,
"If you don't leave me alone this minute I'm going to start naming Names." He threatened. The fairy that had spoken to England bristled, but at that moment the child spoke up,
"Leave Aiofe alone!" he cried, grabbing England's coat and tugging on it as hard as he could. England returned his attention to the child, meeting the glare with a more level gaze,
"I wasn't going to hurt her." He told the child imperiously, "Nevertheless, you've got a nerve to tell me what to do young man." The child continued glaring at him,
"I can tell you what I like." He retorted, "You're a stranger, and you're picking on my friends." England glared a little, the cheek of the boy! He pulled his coat out of the child's grasp and crouched down to his eye level,
"They swarmed me first." He told what he now realised was a young colony, "That's beside the point, you're a colony correct?" The child continued glaring at this stranger and nodded,
"What of it?" he asked sulkily. England raised an eyebrow at that; clearly this child had much to learn about manners,
"Then you'll belong to Scotland then am I right?" the colony didn't let up his glare,
"And why does that matter?" he asked. England snorted again, his expression darkening,
"Because that brother of mine has a lot of explaining to do."
...
Scotland hummed happily as he strode out of the kitchen and into his back garden; things were going even better than he'd hoped. Despite a worrying start, Darien had made the voyage to Scotland's house and was now settling in quite happily. Scotland had been absolutely delighted when he discovered the little colony had the Sight and was looking forward to teaching the child a little bit of the more basic magic when he was a little older. In the meantime, it meant Scotland could rest easy knowing that the fae who lived here would more than take care of Darien while he was busy. Scotland frowned as he looked around the garden,
"Darien?" he called, "C'mon laddie, dinner's ready!" when he received no reply, Scotland frowned a little more. It wasn't like the colony to not answer when he was called. The red-haired nation started to wander through the garden, becoming a little more worried when he realised that the fairies didn't seem to be around either. Suddenly Darien ran out of the orchard and hid behind Scotland's legs. Scotland was about to ask the little colony what the matter was when England came running out of the orchard behind him, red faced and absolutely livid. Scotland quickly made sure that Darien was safe where he was and sent his youngest brother an acidic glare,
"Tae what dae I owe the pleasure o' yer visit?" he asked in an amicable enough tone, but England returned the scowl and promptly ignored the question,
"That little brat has my locket." He growled, glaring at the colony, who merely puffed up his cheeks in annoyance. Scotland looked down to Darien, who was indeed clutching a gold chain. He sighed,
"Darien, laddie, gie England his locket back." He told the little colony. Darien continued to scowl at England,
"Not until he apologises about what he did to Aiofe!" he snapped, his own face going red. Scotland frowned, it wasn't like the little colony to not do as he was asked. The Scot crouched down to Darien's eye level,
"Darien, I'm sure England will apologise once he has his locket back. Ye ken whit I told ye about takin' folk's stuff, aye?" Darien huffed, but gave his 'brother' the locket. Scotland smiled as he patted the tanned colony on the head,
"Guid lad." He said as he turned to England and threw the item back to him,
"There's yer locket, now I think ye owe me an explanation and the laddie an apology." England drew himself up to his full height, which when compared to Scotland, wasn't very tall at all. He gave his brother a querulous look,
"I do not apologise to little thieves." He retorted in as dignified a manner as he could manage. Scotland's expression darkened a little while Darien pouted,
"I didn't even take it to start wi'." He muttered, "it was the fairies that took it off him." England scowled at the colony again,
"That doesn't matter you impudent little whelp..." he started before he was cleanly cut off by Scotland,
"Tha's enough!" he snapped, "Ye've got yer locket back, stop acting like some spoilt wee brat!" he turned to Darien,
"Darien, I ken ye're annoyed, but I'm pretty disappointed in the way ye're acting here." Darien looked to the floor guiltily,
"Aye, I ken." He muttered. The colony looked up to England, "I'm sorry fer takin' yer locket like that Mr England." He said. England snorted, but took the apology for what it was,
"Alright, and I suppose I'm sorry too." He muttered. Scotland nodded appreciatively,
"Right, now tha's a' been sorted oot, we can a' get inside." He said. He looked to England,
"I suppose ye'll be wantin' somethin' tae eat?" he asked, grudgingly deciding to be the better man and setting his colony a decent example. England raised an eyebrow,
"If you've already got food available, I wouldn't want to impose." He replied stiffly. England was never quite sure how to react when Scotland decided to be civil towards him. Darien skipped on ahead and was already sitting at the table when Scotland and England got into the kitchen. Scotland smiled to Darien,
"Dinnae you worry aboot startin' afore us lad." He chuckled, "It's nae guid waitin' until yer dinner's stone cold." Darien nodded,
"Thank you Scotland." He called as he bowed his head, said Grace to himself and started eating. Scotland poked at the fire and stirred the stew in the pot above it,
"Anyways, I'll ask ye again England, whit are ye daein' here?" England rolled his eyes and sighed from his seat next to Darien,
"I've been asked by our King to try to make relations more amicable between us." He replied, "Apparently he's fed up ruling over two countries that refuse to get along." Scotland snorted,
"Tell him tae go greetin' tae his great auntie. Her fault he has to rule over two crowns." He retorted. England bristled at the comment, but bit his tongue. He didn't want to set Scotland off again and be kicked off home this early. Darien looked between them, utterly confused,
"Yes have the same King?" he asked. Scotland chuckled as he turned to face the child,
"Aye, it's a lang story though. I'll need tae get around tae tellin' ye some time." England looked over to Darien with curiosity,
"You're a pretty bright young lad." He noted, "You'd probably get along rather well with America." Darien put his spoon down and cocked his head to the side,
"America? Who's that?" he asked. England laughed a little,
"He's my colony, he's only a little older than you are." He explained, "From what I know about the expedition to your house you live fairly close to one another." Darien nodded and looked over to Scotland, who shrugged,
"Couldnae hurt fer the two o' them tae meet." He agreed, "They're essentially cousins onyway." England thought about it for a moment,
"Yes, that would make some sort of sense." He nodded. He looked over to Darien again, "Tell you what; America is due to come over to my house for a visit in the next two or three days. I'll bring him up here and you can play together and get to know each other." Scotland raised an eyebrow as he set England's bowl in front of him,
"He's travellin' o'er on his ain?" he asked. England snorted,
"Of course not, he's travelling with a very well-trusted governor. I had to come back early to take care of other matters first." He explained. Scotland shrugged as he sat down, his own bowl of stew in hand,
"Aye it shouldnae be any bother tae me." He looked over to Darien, who was looking more excited by the minute, "What de ye think lad?" he asked. Darien beamed at his guardian,
"I'd really like that." He said, "It would be nice to have someone else tae play wi'." Scotland chuckled,
"Well that'll be that settled then." He said, digging into his stew. England, for once, didn't disagree. This was a very rare opportunity for him to spend some time with his oldest brother without wanting to kill him. The king was probably going to be rather pleased with that. Darien yawned and rubbed at his eye tiredly. Scotland, noting the gesture got up and picked the little colony up,
"C'mon wee one, we might as well get ye tae bed. It's past yer bed time anyway." He said with a smile. The red-haired nation excused himself from the table and took the child up the stairs to his bedroom. When he was sure England couldn't see him, Scotland placed a gentle hand on Darien's forehead. He grimaced as he felt a mild prickle of heat under his fingers,
"Still comin' and gauin'." He muttered, with worry. He knew it most certainly wasn't easy for colonies to start with, but surely this fever, mild as it was, should have broken by now. The Scot mentally shook himself and sighed heavily, "It's no' daein' ony harm right now, but I'd better keep an eye on it." The northern nation tried to shake off the deep worry he was starting to feel over the colony's health. It would do neither of them any good for him to worry too much about it if the child was well enough otherwise. Scotland nodded to himself and tucked the dozing Darien into bed,
"G'night wee one." He whispered as he kissed the child's head gently and crept out of the room, taking care not to wake him. Scotland sighed as he trudged back down the stairs, trying not to let his worry become too apparent. Darien, after all, was fine and would be more than well enough in the next two days to meet his 'cousin' for the first time. So why couldn't he shake off the feeling that something wasn't entirely right?
