Wrote this on a whim so might have errors.
Characters involved: Scotland (mainly - OC - Mine), England and Isle of Man (OC - NOT MINE)

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Only my Scotland OC. The Isle of Man OC belongs to someone else.


A wolf howled in the distance as the moon came out from hiding behind thick grey clouds. The forest was teeming with night life. All sorts of birds, animals and insects were wandering about, in search of food and water.

If one stood at the top of a hill, they would see the smoke rising from the fire that was currently burning deep in the forest. There, by the fire, stood a group of bulky looking men, all wearing a long piece of cloth that was wrapped around their waist then flung over their shoulders.

And in front of these men stood a young boy, around the age of nine. His fiery red hair shining under the moon's glow and the light cast by the burning logs.

"Why won't you let us attack that land, lad," one of the men asked, towering over the young boy.

"That land belongs to my younger brother. If you attack it you will hurt him. And I refuse to let you hurt him…!" he replied.

"Who is your brother, to be able to own all the land of England?" another man asked.

"He… He is the personification of England. ...And I am, the personification of Scotland, you're homeland. The land all of you vowed to protect," the young boy answered confidently.

None of the men flinched, or even moved. They continued only staring the boy with a wary, dangerous look in their eyes.

"Then as our homeland you must know, oh great Scotland, that England poses a great threat to us. He must be dealt with at once, or we will suffer in future. Already he is growing stronger, and plotting against us," the first man spoke.

"I am aware of my brother's growth, dear Lord. However, I will not allow you to lay even one finger him! For my late Mother loved him most, and entrusted me, the eldest of our family, to take good care of him. And I will live up to my Mother's expectations. I will protect him at all costs!"

"…At all costs you say, lad?" another man spoke up. This man was not as bulky as the others, but he seemed more cunning than the rest.

Scotland nodded. "Yes."

"Then cut all ties with him. Abandon him," the man continued, looking down at him.

Scotland's eyes widened, his mouth hung agape.

"A… Abandon him? Why…?"

"If we are unable to hurt him, then you will do it for us. As you have said, you would go to all costs to protect your precious brother. If you do not agree, we will attack at the crack of dawn," the man explained, watching the young boy as he did so.

Said boy was staring up at the man, not moving from his spot; frozen by fear. To protect his brother, he had to leave him. That made absolutely no sense to him.

"So if I agree…you will not attack England?" Scotland asked softly.

"Indeed."

"Then… Then I agree! But you must all vow not to attack him, ever!" Scotland proclaimed.

All the men nodded, and the man who suggested the idea to him led the others in the taking of the vow. Once that was done, it was Scotland's turn to take his vow.

"You will have to uphold your side of the agreement as well, lad."

"…I know. I will."

"Take a vow, lad."

"…I, personification of Scotland, Alastair Kirkland, promise to cut all ties with my younger brother, personification of England, Arthur Kirkland, forever."

With that, all the men cheered. Firstly, because they didn't have to risk their lives and attack the English. Secondly, they took pleasure in seeing the dejected, pained look on the young red head's face.

From that night on, Scotland forced himself to push England away.

Whenever England came over to play with him, he would hide in the treetops and shoot arrows at him, to chase him away in case his people decided to break their promise. Then whenever he attended his King and Queen's meetings with the King and Queen of England, he would give England the cold shoulder, and gave the younger boy occasional glares.

His other sibling, Wales and his cousin, Ireland, tried coaxing him to stop; to stop hurting England. But he stood his ground, always refusing to listen to their pleas.

Scotland took no delight in this actions, as he watched his relationship with England gradually crumble until nothing was left. He distracted himself with other matters, attending to court matters, or talking to his King and Queen. But never once did he ever seek England's company.

And it went on like this, until England decided to attack Scotland…

xxxxx

"Gillian! Hurry up, you git, and prepare my tea!" a voice, rather heavily accented, called out. A girl with blonde hair appeared in front of him holding a tray with a teapot, a tea cup and some milk and sugar on it.

"Here you go, Arthur. I hope you like it. By the way, where's Alastair?" the girl, Gillian, asked and smiled sweetly. Arthur shrugged and shooed her away.

The entire scene was observed by a certain ginger, who had decided to wonder around his brother's house instead of going in and joining him for his usual afternoon tea. A sad smile made its way onto his face.

"Arthur has changed since then…" he mumbled, "He has become proud, arrogant. He looks down on people. He has become heartless… Why?"

He walked out of the property, onto the empty pavement outside. And he continued walking after that, with no destination in mind.

"I'm sorry he has become like this. Mother, up in heaven, I hope you forgive me for not keeping my promise."

He passed a shop with a mirror in its window. He stopped and looked into the mirror, staring at his own reflection.

Fiery red hair flying in all direction, framing his pale white face. Thick, bushy eyebrows seeming to rest lightly above his eyes. Forest green eyes staring back at his own, a trait most of his family shared. And a wry smile on his face.

He sighed.

"Alastair Kirkland… You've failed as an older brother."

With that he continued walking. And walking... And walking...


So how was it? Please review :)