A/N: Been inspired again and decided it was time for more Scotland/Canada bonding. This time set back when Canada was still a British Dominion in around 1835.
...
Canada looked over the wall separating England's house from Scotland's warily. England didn't even know that the Dominion was even up here; neither did Scotland for that matter. Glancing behind him, Canada suppressed a shiver; he was going to be dead if England found him up here. Then again, the older nation was much more concerned with keeping a track of his younger colonies, and paid the arctic Dominion so little attention that Canada doubted that he would be missed. Finally the now teenaged colony gathered up his courage and clambered over the imposing structure, England wasn't going to be missing him any time soon and the blonde would much sooner freeze outside than go back at this precise moment. Getting his bearings when he dropped onto the other side, Canada grinned as he started to make his way to his Uncle's home, relishing the wilder feel of the land on this side of the wall.
...
Scotland wiped the sweat off his brow as he put another box on the floor. He was putting some of his older things down in the cellar to join the rest of his so called 'rubbish' that he'd collected over the centuries. Heaving a sigh, Scotland sat on one of the boxes and picked up a small flask of whisky that he always carried with him these days. He smiled ruefully at a small fairy, who flitted around him,
"A braw day tae be daein' a bit o' Spring cleanin', eh lass?" he said. The fairy landed on his shoulder,
"At least you know where all your old belongings are here, Alba." She reminded him, "Didn't Albion throw out most of the things you kept at his house?" Scotland snorted and took another swig of his drink,
"Aye, the wee bastard got rid o' a whole load o' things I wanted tae bring back here." He growled, "Then again, the wee one never did have ony respect fer anyone else's possessions." The fairy nodded sadly and took flight again, dancing around Scotland's head,
"At least you managed to salvage most of them, though I am upset that you haven't managed to find the charm Scotia gave you." Scotland sighed heavily,
"Like I said, England has nae respect fer onyone else's possessions." Scotland frowned as he heard someone knocking on the door,
"Who would that be at this hour?" he wondered aloud, hoping that it wasn't England. The fairy flew up to the cellar door, followed by several others. Scotland cautiously made his way up to the front hall and opened the old, oak door. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the tired, ruffled and soaking wet form of Canada. Canada smiled weakly up at his Uncle,
"Hello Uncle Scotland, would you mind if I came in?" he asked. Scotland opened the door wider and let the Dominion in. He looked around to see who had escorted the lad up. Finding no one there he looked to his nephew; who was wringing out his coat onto the floor,
"No' that I'm no' happy tae see ye son but... whit are ye daein' here?" Scotland asked, still trying to work out why the young man was even anywhere near his house. Canada paused in wringing his coat out and looked up at the red haired nation,
"I wanted to come for a visit." He replied almost too innocently. Scotland raised an impressive eyebrow at that,
"Is that so?" he asked, casually crossing his arms, "Does anyone ken ye're up here?" Canada looked down at the floor,
"N...not exactly..." he said quietly. Scotland sighed as he walked over to the Dominion and crouched down in front of him,
"Can I ask why?" he asked softly. Canada sighed, still not looking at his uncle,
"I really don't want to talk about it." He muttered, glaring at the floor now. Scotland sighed,
"A'right, I'll no' push the matter, but England is gonnae miss ye at some point." He reminded the Dominion. Canada snorted,
"He's probably forgotten I exist by now." He muttered darkly, "I doubt he's missed me yet, if he ever will." Scotland frowned a little in worry; his nephew was getting into these darker moods a little more often as he continued to grow into his own nation. He sighed as he stood up,
"Well, I suppose there's nae use worryin' aboot it just now then." He said, "C'mon, let's get ye oot o' those wet clothes." Canada nodded sullenly as he followed his uncle to his room to get changed.
...
Scotland smiled at his faithful dove as he finished tying a note to its leg,
"Tak' this tae England will ye? I think it'd be best if he kent whaur Canada went." The bird gently nipped at the Scot's finger before it took off out of the window, disappearing into the pre-dawn sky. Scotland shook his head as he started the walk to the kitchen, poking his head into the spare room he'd lent to Canada the night before. He smiled softly as he saw the colony was still fast asleep, the multi-coloured lights of several of his fairy companions floating around the room, keeping watch over the young nation. Satisfied that things were as they ought to be, Scotland continued his walk to the kitchen to start making breakfast. When Canada finally appeared in the room, Scotland turned and gave his nephew a large smile,
"Guid mornin' lad, ye sleep a'right?" he asked, stirring the porridge bubbling in the pot above the fire. Canada gave him a faint smile in return,
"I slept quite well, thank you Uncle Scotland." He replied. Scotland's smile widened as he placed a bowl in front of the young nation,
"That's guid, I wis thinkin' that it might have been a wee bit nippy fer ye." Canada laughed a little,
"Uncle, my own house is normally much colder at this time of year." He reminded the red haired nation, "To be honest, I prefer it cold." Scotland ladled himself out some porridge and sat down at the table,
"That's true. Ye any idea when ye'll be headin' back yet? " he asked, buttering some bread, "After all, ye're a growin' nation, ye'll need tae go back and dae some work at some point." Canada paused in taking his spoon to his mouth, his formerly happy expression falling into a slight scowl,
"No, I don't." He answered shortly, "England's never given any indication of when I can go back." Scotland inwardly winced at the sharp tone in Canada's voice, but he somehow managed to keep his expression and voice neutral,
"Ye ever thought on askin' him?" he asked, taking a bit out of his bread as he waited for the reply. Canada snorted derisively,
"Every time I try, he's always busy with something. Half the time its paperwork and meetings, the other half, its keeping the rest of them under control." Scotland raised an eyebrow at that,
"So is he avoidin' ye, or are ye just makin' excuses?" he asked convserationally. Canada glared at his uncle,
"I'm not making excuses!" He snapped, causing Scotland's eyes to widen a little in shock. Canada then realised what he'd done and looked at the table guiltily, "I... I'm sorry..." he muttered. Scotland sighed and leaned forward again, resting his chin on his hand,
"Look, Mata, I ken ye're frustrated son, but ye're bottlin' it up and then lashin' oot when it becomes too much." He said softly. Canada continued looking at the table as Scotland leaned back in his chair again, "If it's botherin' ye that much though, we can get a haud o' England and hae a chat aboot it in the next week if ye want." He suggested. Canada looked up, his eyes wide,
"I... I don't think that would be a good idea." He stuttered. Scotland frowned a little in confusion until his nephew clarified, "England isn't in the best of moods right now. That's kind of why I left to come up here. Australia pushed him a bit too much and well..." he trailed off uncertainly. Scotland pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved another sigh,
"I swear that laddie's gonnae be the death o' us a' ane o' these days." He muttered. Canada nodded in silent agreement as Scotland thought about the situation for a few moments. Eventually Scotland gave a resigned sigh, "The only thing I can suggest right now is tae try and catch England when he's in a better mood." Canada snorted,
"Good luck with that. He's been in a pretty foul mood for months now." He said. Scotland shrugged,
"If he starts on me, then he's gonnae get some attitude right back." He said, "Ye shouldnae be sae afraid o' standin' up fer yersel' laddie." Canada sighed as he poked at his porridge,
"I know I shouldn't be but... England's making it more and more difficult for anyone to stand up to him these days." He muttered. Scotland snorted,
"I bet he is, but ye cannae let him walk a' o'er ye like this." He said, "I ken ye dinnae hae yer ain army or nowt, but tha' honestly shouldnae stop ye." He smirked a little, "Aifter a' when the folk get riled up guid and proper, haein' an army doesnae matter much." Canada blinked a little at the implication in his uncle's words. It was true that his people were getting more and more unhappy with the way they were being treated by the government lately. That, however, didn't mean that they were ready to start a war over it. The British Dominion shifted uneasily in his seat,
"I know I can't," he sighed, "but I don't want to outright fight England over this. It'll only make things worse for everyone else." Scotland mirrored the sigh,
"Tell ye whit. If we ask England aboot gettin' ye back tae yer ain people fer a bit and he refuses, I'll see aboot gettin' ye a boat tae go oan o'er onyway." He suggested. Canada looked up at his uncle in shock,
"Y...you would?" he asked quietly, glancing to the window as Scotland nodded with a sly smirk, "B...but when England finds out..." Scotland neatly cut the boy off,
"And? Worst he can dae is scream at me fer a bit, not like I've actively resisted him or anything is it?" he quipped. The red haired nation snorted in amusement and shook his head, "No laddie, I'd honestly feel better if ye were oot o' this place a' thegither. Ye're growin' up and England needs to face it sooner or later." Canada stated silent as he digested his uncle's words. They did make lot of sense, and he really didn't want to be staying in the same area as England any longer than he had to. Finally he nodded,
"All right," he conceded, "but we'll try asking him first. I mean it'll be one less mouth to feed at least, eh?" Scotland beamed at him,
"That's the spirit laddie." He laughed, "Now you stop worryin' o'er England being an auld sourpuss and enjoy spendin' some time wi' yer auld uncle, aye?" Canada smiled and nodded,
"Aye." He agreed, looking down at his bowl, "But I think we'll both need something else for breakfast uncle, my porridge has gone cold."