A/N: I woke up this morning, on this mother's day, thinking that there would be a lot of new Hetalia stories out based on this holiday. But, alas, I didn't find a single one. Part of me thinks that I really shouldn't be surprised, since one, there's not a lot of females in the series and two, none of them are mothers! However, I thought it was right that there be at least one, and whenever I thought about it, this is always what came to mind. I actually love how wordplay based it is, but that's just me. So… let's see how this turns out. Please let me know what you think of this, at the end!
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any of the characters used in this story.
Title: Orchids for Mother's Day
Today was boring, and that's all there was to it. Sure, the weather was nice –warm temperature with a nice breeze blowing through, and not a single cloud up in the crisp blue sky.
However, that did not keep the young Alfred from feeling any less bored.
As he sat out on the porch with his head in his hands looking at the ground he thought to himself, 'Isn't there something I can do today?' He couldn't think of any adventures to play out, in the nearby forest, and there were no animals around for him to chase either.
Finally, something came to him. He'd get Arthur to play with him!
Getting up, he raced into the house and began looking around for his guardian. Arthur had just gotten back from England a few days ago, and since then they'd hardly spent any time together. This had bothered Alfred, but he was determined to change it now.
"England?" He called out, first checking the living area, and then the kitchen, yet he was still unable to find his guardian.
"England!" As he ascended the stairs he saw England's office door slightly ajar, and through the opening he could see Arthur sitting at his desk –a serious expression painted on his face as he looked down at some papers.
Without a second thought he pushed the office door open and ran over to England, tugging on his pant leg, "England, I'm bored, will you play with me?" He asked with his bright blue eyes watching Arthur expectantly, and with that normal excited look present in them.
England's thick brow instantly knitted together in frustration and he gave a small huff, "I can't right now, America, I'm busy…"
America's hopeful look instantly fell. However, he was not completely discouraged and instead pulled once more on the elder's pants. "Please? Just for a little bit? We haven't gotten to play since you got back!"
"I said no…" His tone was serious, but not yet scolding.
Alfred was still not deterred and instead figured that, maybe if he kept asking England would finally give in to what he wanted, "Then can I help you work? Please?" He continued to tug at the cloth in his hands.
"No, America…"
"But I cou-."
"I said no, Alfred!" England suddenly shouted at him, startling the smaller nation and causing him to stumble back away from Arthur. Said nation's green eyes moved over to him, and instantly softened a bit. "I-I mean… I can't play with you right now, Alfred, I have important work to do. Why don't you play with the wooden soldiers I made for you for now? Then we'll play later." There was guilt laid heavy in Arthur's eyes, and finally he had to turn away from America.
Alfred tried not to let his sadness get to him as he hung his head. England had said later, right? That was something… right? He took a step towards the door, "Okay, England… sorry…" He said in a smaller, meeker voice.
The older nation said nothing more to him as he left the room once more and began down the stairs. America didn't want to play by himself, though, like England had suggested.
'But what else am I supposed to do?' America thought sadly as he sat down on the wooden step, much in the same way he had just a little bit ago on the front porch. Suddenly, an idea hit him. 'I know! I'll go visit Matthew! He'll wanna play with me!'
He got up and bounded down the rest of the stairs, then out the front door. Alfred knew Canada lived quite a ways away, but he'd run to his brother's house before without a problem. Arthur had been mad about it before, saying he didn't like when Alfred ran off without telling him where he was going. But right now Alfred didn't care. England wouldn't play with him so he had to find someone else who would.
That someone being Matthew, whether he wanted to or not.
Alfred ran north as fast as his short legs would carry him. He always knew when he was getting closer, because the temperature went down a considerable bit from how it was at America's house.
When he finally reached Canada's house it was reaching afternoon time. He ran up the stairs to the porch and knocked loudly on the door. "Matthew! Matthew come out! I wanna play!"
After a few moments the door was opened and Alfred's twin stood on the inside, peering outside with his normal, timid expression in his blue eyes that were just a shade darker than America's. "Oh… hello Alfred." He said politely. "Uhm… how may I help you?
"Come outside, Matthew! I need someone to play with!" Alfred said with bright smile on his face.
"Oh, Alfred, I'm afraid I can't today." The shy boy said, beginning to close the door once more in a desperate attempt to get his brother to leave him alone. Every time they played together it always resulted in Canada getting hurt…
"But why?" Alfred asked, his hand on the door successfully stopping Canada from closing the door fully.
"W-well you see, Alfred-."
"Who is at the door, Mattieu?" Came France's voice suddenly from inside, just before he opened the door wider than Canada had cracked it. "Ah, Amerika, how interesting to see you here, today, oui?" His heavily accented voice said, "Come in."
America nodded as France picked Canada up and carried him further inside the home. America followed, though he felt a small pang of sadness hit his heart. France was always so loving towards Canada. 'I bet France plays with Canada whenever he asks him to…' He wished England could be like that with him.
Going into the living room, where France had carried Canada, he watched from the doorway as France took a seat in one of the chairs, still holding Canada in his lap. On the side table there was an open book lying on its pages. 'France must've been reading to Matthew… England only reads bedtime stories to me…' He thought to himself, jealous.
"What brings you to our home today, Amerika?" France asked.
"Well… I wanted Matthew to come outside and play with me. England won't play with me and I don't want to play by myself…" He explained with the lingering sadness present in his tone of voice.
To this, Francis gave him his own confused look, "Angleterre won't? Ah, what an awful day to ignore his colony, non? Did you do something nice for him today?"
America looked up, "Huh? What's so important about today, France?"
France chuckled, somehow not surprised of Alfred's ignorance. Knowing England the way he did, he knew Arthur probably purposefully didn't tell Alfred about this holiday –not wanting to be embarrassed and destroy his gentlemanly composure.
However, France being France knew that he could not give up the opportunity to destroy England's plans. It was his favorite pastime, anyway.
"Today is fête des Mères, Amerika."
"That's 'Mother's Day' in French, Alfred." Matthew clarified with a smile as he then reached down and grabbed a small white bear that had been sitting on the floor.
France nodded, "Oui. It is a day to appreciate one's mother. It is celebrated by giving gifts and expressing one's love for their mother." He explained.
Alfred cocked his head to the side cutely, "But England is not my mother…"
"He is your mother country, is he not?" He clarified, "It might be a bit of wordplay, but it is still the same thing. He is your guardian, non? He does raise you, take care of you, play with you, and show you love, non? Thus, in a sense, Angleterre is your mother, and deserves this little holiday of recognition."
As odd as France's words sounded, somehow they made sense to Alfred. Though England was not spending so much time with him now, America knew that there were plenty of other times that England had done exactly what France had said.
Arthur had raised him and taught him how to behave, and to have manners.
He'd chased away the monsters out of his closet for him at night, and put bandages over his cuts and scrapes when he fell out of trees.
He'd even stayed up late at night with him playing soldiers, and with the army men England had made for him, even though they both knew that Arthur had some important meeting the next morning.
Matthew's words abruptly pulled Alfred out of his thoughts, "I drew Francis a rose for a present, Alfred, and he brought me this from France." He held out the white bear who just blinked at Alfred. "His name is Kumajirou."
The white bear looked up at Canada, "Who are you?"
"I'm Canada…"
France pat Canada's head before his blue eyes moved back over to America. "What Mattieu is trying to say, Amerika, is that you should do something nice for Angleterre on this day. I'm sure he would appreciate that very much."
Alfred didn't need to be told anymore. His memories of the things Arthur had done, and France's words convinced him that this was the right thing to do, "You're right! I gotta go get something nice for England now to show him how much he means to me! Thanks, bye!" He called before waving to them and running from the house once more. The adrenalin rush of being on a mission fueled him to run as fast as he could straight back to the town he was so familiar with on his own land.
Walking through the streets he began to wonder, 'What am I going to get England? What does he like?' He thought about it as he continued to look. Then, he saw a bookstore on one side of the street. 'Ah! England loves to read! I'll get him a book!'
He ran over to the window and looked in at all the new books that had been set up on display. While America still couldn't read very well, he knew they had to be things that England would like! After all, he'd seen England reading all kinds of books before.
However, his blue eyes then fell to the price on the front. '20 shillings? I don't have that kind of money… oh wait, I don't have any money…' England never trusted him with the money. 'Maybe if I go ask him to borrow some!' But even then his thoughts were dashed. He wanted this to be a surprise, and if he asked for some money, England would instantly know something was going on.
Turning around, away from the books, he looked down at the ground, beginning to feel defeated. If he could not get England something as simple as a book to make him happy, what else was there? What else was really good enough?
Just then as he raised his eyes, they fell upon a flower stand run by an older aged woman just across the street from the bookstore. 'Flowers!' He thought happily. 'England likes flowers! And Matthew said he drew a flower for France and that had made him happy! The real thing has to be so much better!'
With that thought, he dashed across the street; narrowly dodging being trampled by horse-drawn carts that went by as he did. As soon as he reached the wooden stand, however, he turned to the woman. "Ma'am," He made sure to remember his manners. Arthur always told him, 'if you want something, the best way to do it is by having manners.' "May I have some flowers?" He asked, flashing a small, cute smile.
"Ah, flowers young man? For what?" She asked with her own smile, which pulled on the forming wrinkles of age on her face. She looked like a sweet lady, though. There was something about her that Alfred instantly liked.
"I want to give them to E-… to my mother, for Mother's Day, ma'am. But… I don't have any money…" He muttered the last part quietly, looking down at the brick sidewalk in shame.
The woman let out a light laugh, and pat him on his blonde head, "Aw, daring, you're so cute, doing something so nice for your mother. She must be such a good mother, raising such a cute, and well-mannered little boy such as yourself." She said.
America nodded, "Yes, ma'am!" He smiled.
The woman gave another small laugh before turning to her cart of flowers and beginning to pick some out. After a moment she handed a small bouquet of white and pink orchids to Alfred. "Here you go, darling, take these to her. Your mother will love these."
Alfred nodded, holding onto them tightly so he didn't drop them on accident. "Thank you!" He called as the woman waved goodbye to him and he took off at a run in the direction of his house.
As he ran, Alfred made sure to run a bit slower than he normally would. The flowers were too beautiful and delicate for him to let them get destroyed during his desperate run to get home quickly so he could give them to England.
He ran through the yard of his house and up the porch. "England!" He called, feeling a sense of déjà vu from earlier today. He stopped at the front door, though, and looked over the flowers he'd gotten for England once more.
'I hope he likes these…' Alfred thought to himself, swallowing hard. He remembered how Arthur had yelled at him the last time he had tried to get his attention, and the more he thought about it, the more he became afraid of such an occurrence happening again.
Cautiously opening the door he stepped in and began looking around for his guardian. 'He's probably still working in his office…' Just the thought made him afraid to go find him, as déjà vu took him over again.
But as he hesitantly started in through the hall, just as he was about to pass the living room, out of the corner of his eye he saw England sitting on the couch under the window, embroidering, with a serious and frustrated look across his face.
As America stopped and turned in the doorway, his hands shook with the flowers now being held too tightly in his hands; his fears already becoming a reality, he could tell simply by the older nation's expressed emotions. "E-England?" He spoke quietly.
Green eyes darted up to him, and instantly there was a fury of action –the embroidery being put down, England getting up as if to go over to him, but stopping all of a sudden, his eyes boring straight into Alfred's, and his words colliding with him like a brick wall.
"Where have you been, Alfred?! I've been worried sick about you! I stopped my work early just to be able to play with you like you wanted, only to not be able to find you anywhere! Whatever happened to playing by yourself for a little while so I could finish, Alfred? You can't just run off and do whatever you want! What if something had happened?" He shouted; the frustration showing. "And where did you get those," He pointed to the flowers Alfred was holding onto for dear life, "You didn't steal those from my garden did you?! Oh I wouldn't be surprised…"
Alfred felt his lip quivering, but he squeezed his eyes closed and instead tried desperately not to cry. He didn't want Arthur to see him cry anymore. "N-No…" He said, still trying to hold it all back, still not wanting to think that he'd done something bad to anger England this much.
"Happy… Mother's day… England." Were the only words he could find in himself to explain his actions. Even as he spoke he could feel the first tear slide down his cheek, but he instantly tried to wipe it away. He didn't want to be weak –he wanted to be strong, just like England always was.
"Mother's day?" England asked, significantly quieter, and much calmer this time.
Alfred nodded, "I went to see Matthew… to get him to play with me. But he couldn't, and France told me it was Mother's day." He sniffled once, holding back a small sob, "He said… he said it's a day to recognize your mother for loving and taking care of you. So…" He held out the flowers, "A nice lady gave these to me so I could give them to you."
When only silence met Alfred's explanation, he was ready to throw the flowers down and run. He hated being under that burning stare of England's eyes. It made him feel like he actually had done something wrong… when all he'd tried to do was make everything better between them.
He suddenly heard Arthur's footsteps on the wood floor, coming closer to him. But for some reason America couldn't bring himself to run, or to even move now.
"Alfred…" Arthur's soft voice was by him, and suddenly he felt himself being picked him and held close; much like France had held Canada before, that he'd been so jealous of. The flowers were taken from his hand, and America opened his glassy blue eyes to watch Arthur look over them with happiness.
"You got these all by yourself for me?" He asked, to which Alfred simply nodded. England gave a small, genuine smile. "Let's go put these in water, hm? And somewhere that everyone will be able to see them."
They put the flowers in a vase filled with water, and placed them on a table in the living room, by the window, where England said they would get a lot of light and thus live longer. Afterwards they sat down in one of the rocking chairs in the living room –Arthur still holding Alfred close to him in his lap.
"So… France told you about this holiday?" Arthur asked, his head resting on Alfred's.
Alfred nodded, "Yes. Matthew said he drew France a rose, and that Francis brought him a bear back from France. So… I wanted to get you something nice too." He explained.
"They're beautiful, Alfred." Arthur said, placing a kiss on the top of the small nation's head. He then sighed, "I'm… uhm… sorry for getting mad, earlier. I'm just really stressed with dealing with things back in Europe right now." He explained. "But I'll play with you more, now, okay? Just don't run away like that again. I worry about you a lot, you know."
America smiled, and nodded, thinking again of how happy his brother had been with France. He'd been so jealous of him. But now that he thought of it, he didn't see them being any different. Cuddling into England, he asked in a quiet voice, "England, will you read to me?"
"Hm? Oh, sure." Arthur answered, with the surprise evident in his words. He reached over to a table where one of Arthur's books lay and opened it in front of him, finding it to be a book on old fairy tales.
The Brit couldn't deny that Alfred was such a cute and innocent kid, and it was quiet moments like these, where Alfred wasn't running around with endless amounts of energy that Arthur enjoyed the most. While he didn't like the thought that France had told America that it was okay to celebrate Mother's Day as though England was his mother, he would deal with killing the French frog later.
For now, he was perfectly content spending the rest of this holiday sitting in the comfort of their home and reading to the small nation. It felt like this was how things should always be between them.
"Once upon a time…"
The End
A/N: By far the longest one-shot I've written for Hetalia yet. I was desperate to get this finished by the end of today, and I'm glad I did. I'm none too happy about the ending but… oh well… if I had kept going, or tried to re-do it, I know that it would not have come out nearly as good, or any better, for that part. Anyway, if you bothered to read all of that, then please let me know what you think of it. Any comments really help me, as well as my confidence for writing more Hetalia fics. Not to mention I just love to hear your thoughts overall. So please spare a moment for it.
Please review!
-Forbiddensoul562