Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, nor Monty Python's Holy Grail.
King of the Who?
The year was 937AD. It was a cold, foggy spring morning in the newly united Kingdom of England. And Arthur Kirkland, who was then known as Arthur Pendragon, rode through one of his many farming and agriculturally based villages. He was in search of a higher chivalrous court. As new ruler of a vast land, he needed loyal and just knights who would serve his cause, whatever it may be. So he, along with his trusted servant Patsy, rode on through the days since the snows of winter covered the plains of his land. Many months had past, and now winter was spring. King Arthur was beginning to lose hope, when in the distance, he saw there was a castle fit for a lord of high stature. Surely he would join his court. So as he rode toward the castle, he saw how the grounds keepers, though covered in mud and grit, worked diligently for their lord and master. He called to a keeper that was pulling a cart of hay,
"Old woman!"
"Man!" The groundskeeper called back to him.
"Man, sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?"
"I'm 19."
Well, that threw him off guard, "What?"
"I said I'm 19; I'm not old" And by Jove, he didn't look old at all. Sure, he might have looked like he hadn't bathed in years, but he appeared to be an average teenaged boy. He had golden hair and eyes that were as pure as the sky. Arthur thought that he could have possibly looked attractive in glasses, but immediately dismissed such thinking. Francis was starting to get to him, it seemed.
"I can't just call you 'man'" Arthur told him. To which he wittily replied, "You could say 'Alfred'"
"I didn't know you were called Alfred."
"Well, you didn't bother to find out, did ya?"
"I did say sorry about the 'old woman', but from behind—."
Alfred got angry, "Well I object that you should automatically treat me like an inferior."
"I AM King…"
"Oh King, huh? Very nice." He said in rude acknowledgement, "And how'd you get that? By exploiting the workers! By hanging onto outdated imperialistic dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society! If there's ever going to be any progress—."
"There is some lovely filth down here!" Another groundskeeper hollered to his companion as he climbed on all fours up the steep hill. A polar bear followed suit. This was the first time Arthur had ever seen a species such as the one he looked down upon now. He didn't think his weather could accommodate an animal of such extreme climatic needs. As the young boy reached the top, he realized that he had interrupted a conversation. Embarrassment flared across his cheeks as he meekly greeted Arthur. "Oh…How'd you do?"
"How do you do, young lad. I am Arthur, King of the Britons. Whose castle is that?"
"King of the who?" He asked innocently. His light auburn hair partially covering his face as he cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"The Britons."
"Who are the Britons?"He mimicked back.
"We all are. We all are Britons. And I am your king."Arthur was very proud of this fact, and at that instance it showed in his stature.
"Didn't know we had a king." The boy dismissed, "I thought we were an autonomous collective."
"You're fooling yourself, Matthew. We're living in a dictatorship." Alfred continued to work on tending the grounds as he spoke. Slabs of wet earth thrown harder down a hole as he became more enraged, "A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working class…"
"Oh, there you go, eh, bringing 'class' into it again…" Matthew sighed. It was not the first time he had heard his brother's ranting about governments.
"That's what it's all about! If only people…"
"Please, good children! I am in haste!" He told them desperately. "Who lives in that castle?"
"No one lives there" Matthew told him as if it were old news.
"Then who is your lord?"
"We don't have a lord!"He shouted toward his 'king'.
"What?!" He shouted back in disbelief.
"I told you. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week…."
"Yes." He sighed exasperatedly. These peasants were starting to take a toll on him.
"But all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a biweekly meeting…"
"Yes, I see" He was growing impatient now.
"By a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs"
"Be quiet"
"But by a two-third majority in the case of –"
"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!"Arthur shouted at the 19 year old.
"'Order' eh? Who does he think he is?" Matthew questioned, throwing a slab of dirt into a wicker basket to be slung onto his back.
"I am your king"
"Well I didn't vote for you"
"You don't vote for kings."
"Then how did you become king, eh?"He asked Arthur. He then became very serious as he told the children of his tale,
"The Lady of the Lake. Her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excaliber from the bosom of the water signifying, by divine providence, that I, Arthur, was the carry Excaliber. That is why I am your king!"
"Listen…" Alfred was the first to be skeptical. As usual. "Strange women lying in ponds, distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses. Not from some farcical aquatic ceremony!"
"BE QUIET!" Offended, he yelled at the boy, anger boiling within him.
"Wh- You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you!"
"SHUT UP!"
"I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor, just because some moistened bint lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!"
Arthur travelled a bit down the hill to the peasant Alfred, and pulled him to his level. Only so he could get a good grip at his neck, though. "Shut up! Will you shut up!?"
"Ah, now we're seeing the violence inherent in the system!"
"SHUT UP!"Arthur strangled him harder. He yelled louder.
"Come an' see the violence inherent in the system! HELP! Help, I'm being repressed!"
"Bloody peasant!"
As Arthur had woken up from his disturbing slumber, he had realized that the world conference had ended. Had he actually slept through the whole meeting? He collected his disheveled papers together and began to make his way toward the exit. As he reached the threshold of the door, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard an all-too familiar voice behind him,
"Hey Iggy, wha'cha doing aft-."
"SHUT UP YOU BLOODY PEASANT!" And Arthur stormed off.
"What the Hell was that all about? Did you see him repressing me Mattie?"
Only his polar bear replied, "Who?"
"Now where has he gone?" He sighed, annoyed with the fact that whenever he spoke with his brother, he would disappear on him.
"I'm right here Al…"
"I mean, he even left his bear behind." Alfred stated, pointing to the little white bear, laying on the floor, cleaning his paws. "Christ, he can be so careless sometimes!"
"I'M the careless one?! Really, Al…Seriously…"
Finito~ Uhmm, I was thinking recently...Making I should write some Hetalia fictions, but ACTUALLY WRITE the dialogue and everything. I feel like I'm so easily cheating the system writing fictions this way. Ah well, whatcha gonna do, eh? Maybe sometime soon I will actually write a story that actually pertains to anything important. Anywhoo, fall is in the air where I am now. That means in a couple of weeks, I'll be wearing my winter jacket, and have to dig out all of my scarves and mittens. YAY WINT- uhh, I mean Autumn....Yay, autumn. I know that barely anyone reads the stuff at the bottoms of stories anymore, but if you haven't I highly suggest that you take some of the APH Ten Minute Challenges. I've done so far:
Prussia's "Niyo-Niyo", Russia's "Vila-Vila! Latviiaa!", Russia's "Vodkkaaa!", Feliciano's "Doitsu- Doitsu" (I think this one's my favourite), and Greece's "Grunt".
Anyway, those things are fun, and I highly recommend them to people who have spare time on their hands and want to procrastinate to something fun. Anyway, Monty Python equals awesome which equals Gilbert, so in essense Monty Python is Gilbo. Never forget.
Thank you all for reading! :)
~The-baby-Sparrow