A/N- I absolutely love Hetalia but I was rather bummed that the Celts never made an appearance (Ireland, Scotland and Wales) so after a learning a bit about the gruesome history between the Celts and England I decided to represent it as a Hetalia style. No one else seemed to so I thought I'd give it a shot. Mind you I am not Irish so please correct me if I'm wrong on my various few gaelic phrases. This is a bit on the dark side but that's only because its quite a dark history. This is my first Hetalia fanfic (though not my first story ever written) so I hope enjoy and review!

A warm breeze swept through the green landscapes. It was about mid afternoon and the country of Ireland decided to take a walk around his large estate. It was a very peaceful day; like usual. Ireland smiled as he took in a deep breath of the lush spring air. He loved spring. That feeling of the wind rushing through his thick, messy red hair always delighted his senses. Ireland rarely combed his hair so it just often bounced at his shoulders. He stood at about five foot ten and had pasty white skin. As it was just a casual day Ireland was dressed down wearing just a simple white button up shirt with a dark green vest over it and dark brown trousers that had a patch over his knee from constantly kneeling when doing work. Normally he'd walk around barefoot but with recent communities being built up he needed to be a little more careful.

So today he wore just a simple pair of brown laced up boots that came up over his ankles. And on his head he wore his favorite plaid cap. It wasn't the most attractive outfit but it was just him so he didn't care. Today would be brilliant picnic weather. Ireland considered asking his younger brother Scotland and younger sister Wales to come over later. That might be nice. Probably would end in a massive fight over something trivial but that's what siblings are for. Just as he was planning on how to ask his siblings a shrill cry broke through his thoughts. He snapped his head around towards the sound.

"What on Earth? That sounded like a child!" He thought.

Ireland held his breath staring at the forest; listening intently for the scream again. Half of him hoped it was just his imagination but the other half said otherwise.

"SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE!"

Without a second thought Ireland sped into the dark forest. No one was supposed to be in this part of the forest! Law and an agreement forbade it! As he ran, Ireland managed to twist off a long sharp branch. He didn't have time to run home and grab his sword so this would have to do. Ireland soon came to a clear and found the source of the crying. A young boy dressed in white with messy blonde hair. His back was turned to Ireland but the country was able to follow the boy's gaze up to what made him cry.

Wolves.

Five wolves all surrounded the young toddler with wide smiles on their muzzles. The largest of them all standing in front of the child, a pure black wolf, looked up and smiled at Ireland.

"Why hello old friend… Come to join us?" The wolf asked.

Ireland stared the wolf down before sternly replying, "Culann I demand you release the child at once!"

Despite this, Culann remained smiling as he said, "Have you forgotten our deal? All humans who enter MY forest belong to me. Just as all wolves that enter your territory belong to you. Save you and I."

It was true. That was the deal they forged years ago however there was something about this child that wasn't normal and Ireland could feel it. This boy was special. He needed to save him.

"Culann please he's just a child." Ireland begged. "Just let him go and I'll bring you some food."

"Or you can just join us. Get them!" Culann barked at his pack.

The wolves ready to pounce but Ireland was faster. He swung his long branch at the wolves managing to knock them away. But five against one was nearly impossible. As they readied their second attack Ireland suddenly jumped into the air and broke his branch into five equal parts. He flung the parts back towards the child forming a circle around him. Ireland managed to hover in air for a few more seconds as he opened a bag of dust on his hip and allowed it to fall onto the child. There was a bright light as Ireland came back down. The wolves were temporarily blinded.

As the light faded they quickly returned their gaze to where the child had been sitting. Both of them were gone. Culann growled in annoyance. "Using your magic is cheating Ireland!" He shouted.

"I'm up here! Come and find me!" Ireland taunted.

The wolves looked up… only to find themselves surrounded by several figures dressed in long black robes with hoods. All of them had the child on their hip and red hair could be seen sticking out from under the hoods. They were ALL Ireland. The wolves spun around frantically trying to figure out which one was the real one. They all knew this trick; especially Culann but it didn't make it any easier. These were known as shadow copies. As soon as you touched one it faded away. But over the years Ireland got better at the spell and was able even copy his smell into each one.

But one stood out. The one running away. Culann ordered his pack to follow him as he took the rear. Seconds passed before suddenly all the shadows faded leaving one figure standing in the trees to pull his hood down; the Real Ireland. The wolves were chasing a Shadow copy. However Culann was smarter than his pack so it wouldn't be long before he worked it out and would be after them again. Ireland re-adjusted the babe on his hip before jumping down the tree. He hit the ground running in the opposite direction towards the cliffs.

Just as Ireland had predicted it wasn't long before Culann worked out they were chasing a fake. The Shadow copy didn't leave footprints. The wolf growled and swiftly turned around. Now there was only one scent. This is where Ireland had to get crafty. He was nowhere near as fit as his brother and couldn't outrun Culann forever. But he knew his way around the forest like the back of his hand. He created another shadow copy to stand beside a tree while he ran to the side and pulled a branch back.

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*WHACK*

The force of the branch threw a foolish young wolf back and the Shadow copy disappeared. One down four to go. "Hold onto my neck!" He instructed the boy. The blond child with the thick bushy eyebrows nodded and obeyed leaving Ireland's hands free. He ran down a path leading to the cliff face. Getting a running start, Ireland jumped up and clung to the wall then preceded to free hand climb it. He was about half way up when the rest of the pack caught up. Ireland's plan was just to climb to the top then jump along the treetops. That was the plan at least. Once he got to the top so too did the wolves. Ireland was considering jumping but the jump required a running start and the moment he turned his back to the wolves they would pounce. He was trapped.

"Cac…" He muttered under his breath.

"Enough of these games Ireland. Hand us the child and we'll spare your life." Culann growled.

Ireland looked down and considered jumping when he saw the wolf he had knocked out earlier standing there with its mouth open wide. It seemed like the wolves were going to get their way when suddenly there was a loud whistle followed by a painful howl. Several more whistles were heard and two wolves were lying on the ground with several arrows sticking out of non-vital areas. Ireland recognized those arrows immediately. Welsh arrows. Ireland smiled as suddenly his little sister appeared in the treetops aiming her bow and arrow. And where there was Wales there was…

"HA!" Came the loud Scottish roar as Scotland brought his broad sword near the other wolf before swinging it again and knocking the wolf away. Seeing they were gravely outnumbered, Culann ordered a retreat and the wolf pack with their superficial injuries limped away. Once gone, Ireland released a heavy sigh of relief before setting down the boy on the ground in front of him.

"What were you thinking wandering alone into the forest like that? Huh? You killed have been killed! If it- what?" Ireland snapped as Scotland interrupted his scolding by placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Ireland wait…" Pushing his older brother to the side, Scotland knelt down in front of the child. The child was slightly intimidated. Scotland was huge! He had to be at least six feet tall and was really well built with huge muscles. He could have easily killed all those wolves in seconds without breaking a sweat! Scotland had long, thick straggly, brown hair that was pulled back over his face by a loose ponytail. All he was wearing was a simple thick brown loincloth tied around his hips. And on the rest of his body he just had weird blue symbols painted on.

The boy glanced over at Wales. She was the youngest of the three. She was dressed in brown Celtic style dress with wooden ornaments and leather wraps around her arms and legs acting as armor. She had black hair, which was braided in the back, but a few strands stuck out in her face. She also looked the nicest with a warm smile.

"Ireland this is a new country." Scotland said breaking the boy's examinations.

"What?" Both Wales and Ireland exclaimed.

"What's your name?" Scotland asked looking down at the boy.

The boy stared up at the three siblings. They did save his life… it was only proper manners to give his name. And they seemed nice enough.

"My name is England."