Another Hetalia oneshot
The representatives of the British Isles had gathered; England, Scotland, Northern Ireland and Wales. Also joining them at the table was a pair of women. The Republic of Ireland was a beautiful woman with a small scattering of freckles across her pale, oval shaped face and striking moss green eyes clashing fantastically with her fiery bright red hair. A strong Irish accent would fill the room when she spoke especially when she was angered, then her powerful voice made her a tough person to argue with. It was hard to stay calm when an angry Irishwoman was spitting curses at you in English and Gaelic and still managing to make good counter arguments. The other woman was more of a girl in appearance. The British Magical Community also had red hair but it was darker and resembled blood rather than fire though she shared the expressive green eyes that the rest of the Celtic Nations had inherited. She didn't often join in as she hadn't yet met the Minister for Magic so had no political issues to bring up. There was also the matter of having a different government system, currency and education system. Her voice was far softer and carried a middle class accent; her people were too spread out for a specific regional accent to be recognised.
Today's discussion was, once again, the economy; plans for the future, how to tackle the economy crisis, whether old plans had worked and every so often the opening of the channel tunnel would be mentioned by Scotland. After all, it was his old friend France that the train tunnel was being connected to. Of course England would immediately shoot back with some low blows involving possible scandalous activities that may have happened once the Auld Alliance had been establlished.
The meeting was going perfectly normally with small bickering matches striking up between the various nations gathered with Lottie (The Magical Community) sitting quietly with her own thoughts. She didn't want to say this out loud but her thoughts were turning rather strange and had been getting worse a couple of months after she finally connected to her land and people.
The blood is impure, the magic is tainted... The Mudbloods stole from the true wizards. Magic can be stolen, you stole from Papa after all, why can't Mudbloods steal magic from true wizards?
Everyone is equal. Your family tree means nothing and has no relation to whether or not you have magic running through your veins.
It was normal... for now at least. She'd woken up the night before with a pounding headache from the conflicting ideas from her people. The witches and wizards had to be united; compared to muggles, there weren't that many of them anyway. Lottie desperately wanted to convince people that how far magic can be traced back shouldn't matter but she couldn't. Arthur had explained that, as a personification, she couldn't take sides. All she could do was either support or go against both sides though she was in a very unique position. A nation couldn't refuse a direct order from their boss but Lottie hadn't met her boss yet so could act freely though she had been advised to practise staying as neutral as possible.
Kill the Mudbloods The murderous voice whispered.
Save them! The nicer voice urged
Lottie just ignored them and tried to focus on her family. They were sitting down now; the arguing was out of their systems so hopefully things would go smoothly. North Ireland was asking Republic of Ireland how she was encouraging religious tolerance in her country and if there had been any improvements in the last couple of years. Scotland went next, though it was mainly to tease England because other than that, he had nothing to say. Wales generally didn't have much to worry about but did bring up something about a disease threatening his livestock.
Kill... kill the impurity!
There is no impurity!
The voices were getting louder and more urgent... more convincing. England had been speaking while she got distracted by her voices and now he was looking right at her. She tilted her head. What had he just asked her?
"Lottie, is everything alright? You seem to have trouble focusing today."
Ah, that's what he asked.
"I'm fine Papa." She replied with a sweet smile. She hoped it was enough to mask the disharmony of her mind. She had taken magic from him when she was created so in her eyes, the least she could do was not bother him about her personal problems. England didn't believe her but returned to his presentation about the production and opening of the Channel Tunnel and Eurostar train.
Mudbloods... Halfbloods... Blood Traitors... They all need to die
Racism is what needs to die!
Kill them all! The impurities need to be destroyed! They stop us from being superior to muggles!
Don't kill them! Muggles are sweet creatures, they can be reasoned with!
The voices were getting louder, cutting off her hearing, destroying her sense of reality and suddenly, everything went black. To her family, she seemed to just slump in her chair and fall to the floor. It was England, her father figure, who reached her side first. His jacket was used to cushion her head and he checked for a pulse. They were relieved when she sat up and rubbed her eyes but she looked up at them, there wasn't her usual sweet smile. Instead, there was a cruel smirk that spoke of oppression and genocide and the cruelness of her smile matched the evil looking glimmer in her eyes.
"Are you ok kiddo?" Scotland asked. He sounded suspicious. He'd seen something similar before a long time ago and the affected brother remembered the following events the clearest.
"The Mudbloods and The HalfBloods and The Half Breeds and The Blood Traitors need to die. My magic is impure. They will take their impurity and inferiority with them." She spoke with an ice cool tone in her voice. It was no longer soft and friendly; it had become powerful and authoritarian. But suddenly, everything changed; her posture, her behaviour even her speech patterns it all changed.
"Corruption... everything about me is corrupted. There is no impurity in my people. Those not of Pure Blood are not inferior!" She had a terrified look on her face and her voice, though still loud, no longer had that cold, authoritarian tone to it. Scotland sighed and his shoulder's sagged. He took a puff from his cigarette and glanced over to his youngest brother. The light blond glanced back with sad eyes. He remembered his experiences with voices and suddenly acting like he was two different people. Civil War did that nations; each personality reflected one political idea involved in the war.
In England's case, he had become The House of Lancaster the White House, represented by a white rose. The other personality had gained his own body and mind and become The House of York the Red House represented by a red rose. He'd never asked other nations that had experienced civil wars so he wasn't sure if the outcome was a common one. He'd defeated York on June 16th 1487 at the Battle of Stoke and was about to strike the killing blow when they had suddenly merged and become one. He had been able to call himself England again. He'd later found out that both Houses had united by marriage and were now The House of Tudor and were represented by a red and white rose, The Tudor Rose the rose that became the National flower.
He recognised the signs. There was a Civil War brewing amongst the Magical Community and Lottie, his beautiful daughter, was feeling the effects. He picked her up bridal style and held her for a moment. Her subconscious recognised the feel and smell of her father figure and on instinct, she relaxed into his embrace. England carried her home and tucked her up in her bed. There wasn't much he could do for her except calm her down when one personality tried to take control. The War would have to be waited out.