Summary: Wales is finally independent and England wants him back. He doesn't want to return though.
Dylan, or Wales (Or Cymru, as he started referring to himself once more), sighed contently. He had been freed recently, now an independent nation. Once he had been made independent, the first thing that happened was a search for a relative of the last true 'Prince of Wales' from before England basically annexed him. Once they had found an heir and set up a few checks and balances to keep the prince from being too powerful, it almost seemed like business as usual. His eyes opened as a shadow blotted out the otherwise sunny day.
"Oh, hey Arthur."
Arthur, or England, had looked around before saying, "Hey. So, uh… about this whole 'independence' thing." he almost choked on the words. "How long will it last? I want you back."
He sighed. "Forever, Arthur." he said, standing up. "I'm not coming back."
Arthur looked hurt. "B-B-But… come on, just one more step?"
Dylan stared at the sky for a bit and started to sing. "No I can't take one more step towards you. Cause all that's waiting is regret…" he backed up. "Don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore… you lost the love I loved the most." He stood up, and Arthur realized just how much smaller he was than his brother. "I learned to live, half alive. And now you want me one more time." He looked at him, his eyes seeming to show both regret and a bit of a steely strength. "Who do you think you are? Runnin' 'round leaving scars. Collecting your jar of hearts, and tearing love apart. You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me. Who do you think you are?" He sung. When he finished singing, he turned around and started walking off. "Good-bye, Arthur. I'm not becoming your little servant ever again." He said.