Trick or Treat
Following after his brother as he walked away from him, Northern Ireland begged once more, "Please! Pleeeaaase! I really want to!"
"No!" England snapped as he fixed himself his cup of afternoon tea. "You are too old for trick or treating, as am I! I don't even understand why you want to go!"
The freckle-faced youth gave his brother an incredulous face. "Because," he huffed.
Taking a seat at the table in the comfortably stuffed kitchen, England picked up his paper from that morning and flipped to the editorial as he poured a bit of cream into his steaming drink to help it cool down a little faster. "If you're truly so set on it, go bother Sealand, he's about the right age for it."
"But he'll keep all the candy for himself!" Northern Ireland complained.
Lifting his paper and effectively blocking the younger from view, England replied with an obvious sneer to his voice, "Well, bully for him."
"This isn't over!" North declared as he stomped from the room.
From behind him, the youth heard his brother snort and gritted his teeth. He'd make England go if it was the last thing he did! But, first...maybe Ireland would be more willing? He liked fun stuff and trick or treating was fun from what he saw. Maybe he'd agree if they egged a few houses or something as well? He sure hoped so!
XxXxX
"Aw! C'mon Ireland! Just a street of houses!?"
A door slammed in his face, followed by a shout of, "Scram ye idiot!"
"Ireland!" But, no more noise came from behind his older brother's door; so, the youth was forced to turn and leave.
Ireland would be getting it too for turning him away! That was for sure!
XxXxX
Tramping around his home's cellar, North shoved aside a few boxes. Then some more. And more. And more. But, finally! Finally the youth found exactly what it was that he'd been looking for! Brushing back the grit and dust, he thumbed through the pages of the leather-bound spell book one of his brothers, likely England, gave him when he was much younger and magic hadn't seemed so strange or impossible.
Now, of course, he usually thought it was a bunch of rubbish...but hey, what was the harm in trying it? Nothing, as far as North was concerned. Going back to the front of the book, he checked the contents and murmured to himself, "Physical hexes, cleaning charms, transformation spells! I bet I can find something there!"
Flipping through, he hoped to find a spell that would turn England or Ireland into a couple of frogs or better yet, beetles, but the first spell that caught his eye brought a crooked smirk to his lips. Oh, yes...this one would be excellent!
Scrambling up from the dirt and cobwebs, North rushed to gather the things he'd need to fulfill the spell's requirements. Something that belonged to each of his brothers, chalk and a couple candles - all of which just lay right up stairs! Oh, how exciting this was! He couldn't wait to see the results he got!
Coming back downstairs about fifteen minutes later, he cleared out a small swath of floor and swept away the grime so the surface would be relatively clean as he took the chalk and began to draw his circle-enclosed star. Once done, he laid England's old pair of slippers down beside Ireland's pipe and stepped back to light the candles. When that was done, he set them at the points of star. After that, he grabbed the spell book and opened it to the necessary page. Chuckling to himself, North began to read as written:
Lady of the Earth! Man of the Sky! Woman of the Seas! Sir of the Fire!
Hear me, hear me!
Lend me your magics and powers,
let me channel your greatness;
so I may bring my brothers' souls back to days.
Rewind their lives back to the follies, to innocence
if only but for a snatch of days...
Lady of the Earth, Man of the Sky, Woman of the Seas, Sir of the Fire
I am but a humble conduit of your strength
and I ask for nigh nothing.
Take a bit of my life, take a bit of my blood, take a bit of me-
North bit into his hand. Hard. Blood dribbled from the wound and he held it above his brother's things; letting just enough dribble for the sake of the spell before curling his hand and taking it back to finish his chant.
-in return.
And grant me the power I need
so my brothers may go back to days,
when the sun was just rising in the east and night an eternity away...
A strong wind rose up and something bright and red flashed like lighting and North was knocked back on his butt, but when everything settled, the slippers and pipe were gone and the candles out.
Pushing back his bangs, the youth gazed in wide-eye, open mouthed appreciation at the sight. Eventually, as the surprise wore off, he murmured, "I guess...I guess that worked?"
Or it would.
The spell had said that once he finished the chant, everything would be in full affect by the next morning. Getting up, Northern Ireland cackled and rubbed his hands together. This was going to be great! Once he rounded up Ireland and England he'd be the oldest, biggest and therefore in charge! Oh, how exciting it was going to be! Neither would be able to look him the eye for years after!
Going to bed, the youth wriggled with joy beneath his sheets and set his alarm for a super early hour. Eight in fact! That would give him so much time, he'd go to Ireland's then England's and bring them back to his place at which point he'd figure out what they'd go as for Halloween. Maybe a group of pirates? At least England would get a bit of a kick out of it. But what if they went as wizards! Yes, that would be wicked!
Costume ideas dancing in his head, it wasn't long before Northern Ireland drifted into sleep with a smile plastered on his face.
"Uh, hello?" North called as he stepped into Ireland's home. "Where are you Paddy!?" He shouted when no answer came.
There was a thump somewhere and the youth grinned. Sneaking between the rooms, he eventually came to the bathroom where he saw the cupboard beneath the sink was ajar and a bottle of cleaner lay on its' side outside of it. Not daring to turn on the lights, North stepped into the room and with hare-quick speed swung the cupboard door open and pulled out a small, struggling body.
He smiled. "Hi Paddy," he said.
The boy, no older than eight, glowered fiercely. "Fuck ye!" he snapped, "Ye did this, didn't ye?!"
North blinked innocent eyes at the swearing boy. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked in a voice far too satisfied.
"Idiot! Idiot boy!" Ireland screamed, hitting him repeatedly in the face.
Laughing, the youth just maneuvered the boy so he was tucked close and incapable of striking him as he headed for his waiting car outside.
XxXxX
Unlike Ireland, who was almost too easy to retrieve, England was hard. Even with his older, now younger, brother's help, North spent almost three hours searching for England. Eventually, they found the little imp high in a tree in his backyard clinging to it for dear life. And when the youth climbed up there to get him, England bit him and ow! Who knew toddlers had such sharp teeth? He sure hadn't.
Of course, once Ireland showed himself at the base of the tree looking just as small and embarrassed, England let go of his branch and instead wrapped his arms around North in a death-grip.
"If you strangle me on the way down, we both will fall, you know, Arthur!" he hissed at the toddler.
An oddly mean frown on his small face, England grumbled, "It would be better than this humil-humil'ation!"
North laughed. "You can't even say humiliation!"
"Belt up!"
The youth didn't and by the time he was at the bottom, England made the acuteness of his displeasure extremely clear when he began to scream at the top of his tiny lungs in Northern Ireland's ear.
"Way ta go!" Ireland had grumbled as he stomped one of his small feet with his arms up.
At first, North hadn't understood and just stared at the eight year old in a dumbfounded kind of stupor. When his brother realized he was going to do nothing, Ireland rolled his eyes and move around and shouted at England, "Just drop! I got ye, ye prat!"
England released his hold on North's neck and the youth was awed at how easily he could breath now without the extra weight. However, when he turned around to find his younger-older brother bawling in Ireland's arms he felt really, really bad.
"Oops," he mumbled.
The look the redheaded boy gave him told him he wasn't just dumb, but mentally impaired. North almost agreed with him there for a second as England's breath hitched as he let out another eardrum splitting shriek.
"So, lemme get this straight," Ireland started, swinging his stocking-covered feet, "Ye turned us inta a coupla lads because we wouldn't go candy begging with ye?!"
North blushed and realized for the first time how kind of stupid it was. "Uh...yeah?" he smiled hesitantly.
England, for his part, was uncaring of this fact and was only intent on being as annoying as possible. "More tea!" he demanded imperiously while holding out his mug.
Pouring him another half-mug, the youth wondered when England would be finished. Ireland pushed his own cup at him next and North cursed when he realized he would have to make another pot.
"We still won't go with ye," Ireland declared from his spot.
"Yeah!" England piped up after, round face ruddy with his determination. "We won't go!"
North stood up and loomed over the two. "Is that so?" he smirked.
The boys exchanged a look and faster than North could blink, he was on the ground. Ireland was on his legs and England on his chest.
Ireland, poking his head around England's bulk, declared in unison with the younger, "Yeah!"
Letting his head fall back and hit the wood floors of his brother's kitchen, North groaned his displeasure. Not even with Ireland and England like this could the teenager win!
I feel like I could leave it here, but I could also write a second half too...hm. What do you guys think? Should I try for a second half or does this feel finished as-is?
Also, how do you like Northern Ireland? What about that spell? Was that cool or did it kind of suck?
Names:
Paddy-Ireland
Arthur-England
Thank you all for reading and please review!
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or
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