I was cruising the kink meme again and decided to give this request a go. I know the whole fairy tale theme has been done many times, but I really like the idea of England and America being cursed to reenact these tales against their will. As a result, these stories will be altered (perhaps even drastically) to reflect their unwillingness to play their parts and the added bonus of Hungary and Prussia's influence.

Warnings: Not Disney's version of fairy tales, cursing, maybe some OCC, lots of cross-dressing, not beta approved

"Canada. Close the curtains will you? I'm being blinded over here," America's muffled voice grumbles.

Getting no response, he turns his face from the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut against the offending light still pouring in despite his complaints. "Canada?"

...

Urg. Guess he'll have to close them himself.

Yawning loudly, America sluggishly wills his body to move into an upright position and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. He winces when his bare feet meet cold, hardwood floor.

Strange. This bedroom is supposed to be carpeted.

He blindly staggers towards the window and gropes around for where the curtains ought to be only to find them missing. Extremely annoyed, America gingerly rubs the sleep out of his eyes and is utterly shocked by the scenery when he opens them.

It's a beautiful, Technicolor day -complete with lush forest, singing birds and shimmering rainbow- but he is several stories above the ground!

"What the…Where the hell am I!?"

He stumbles back a few paces and gapes in bewilderment at the grey stone walls forming his new bedroom. The furniture is sparse: a bed just big enough for one, a small table with two chairs in front of a fireplace, a wash basin, and a full length mirror beside it. Most worrisome is the lack of doors or stairs.

"Good morning!"

America whips around to find an albino man sitting on the window sill with one leg casually swinging over the edge. He is wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and a white shirt proudly displaying a crowned black eagle. The sunshine behind him gives his body an angelic silhouette, but the smile of his red eyes speaks of someone up to no good.

"Prussia...how did I end up at your house?"

"Are you kidding? I'm way too awesome to own a rundown little pile of rocks like this! You my friend are in a fairy tale which is located neither here nor there."

America points an accusatory finger. "You must have drugged me at the meeting because I'm still wearing the same dress shirt and pants I had on yesterday! You didn't draw a penis on my face with a permanent marker too did you?"

"Such tactics are beneath me...well, aside from the penis artwork of course." Prussia muses as America goes to the mirror to double check. "I could have easily beaten you up and dragged you here!"

America rolls his eyes then presses his face close to his reflection. His short hair is a mess -much like England's on a good day. He should really locate his glasses. "How did I end up here then?"

"Hungary and Awesome Me made a bet to see if you and ol' England were actually in love with each other despite all the fighting you do." Prussia reaches his right hand out towards the wilderness, whistles a short tune, and a little yellow bird flies down to happily perch upon his finger.

"We are not in love!" America sputters at the albino's reflection.

The Prussian playfully scratches his feathered friend and then gently places it on top of his head. "That's what I said! I told her she'd be better off keeping her nose firmly in her book of 'happily ever after's than wishing for any kind of romance between you two. Next thing I know she has this crazy idea, Norway gets involved with some hocus pocus shit, and here we are!"

"I must be dreaming...or comatose."

Prussia gets up, crosses the floor, and swiftly punches his arm.

"What the hell, man? A simple little pinch would've sufficed!" America rubs the sore spot. "Let's say I believe you and this whole fairy tale thing. How do I get back home?"

Prussia grins. "It's simple. All you have to do is not kiss England."

"As if I would!"

"That's the spirit! Ok. Let's get this ball rollin'!" Prussia takes a hold of America's shirt and drags him closer to himself. Then he leans in and whispers into America's ear. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair."

To America's utter amazement, his hair begins to lengthen to his shoulders. To his utter horror, it continues to cascade down his back and coils at his feet without any indication that it will ever stop growing.

~##~

"No."

"Come on England!"

"First of all, I should guillotine you for pretending to be my Queen," England growls.

"I'm the King of this kingdom, not the Queen of yours." Hungary stands up from her place on the throne and slowly descends the stairs in a flourish of white fabric, furs, and jewelry.

"Second of all, I refuse to be your plaything just to satisfy your fanciful whims." He is dressed very much like a prince in his favored red uniform: complete with shiny buttons and equally shiny black boots. He searches his person for an item he concludes is missing. "What did you do with my wand?"

Hungary only barely manages not to giggle at the images conjured up in her imagination from those

two sentences. It wouldn't do make England any angrier than he is. "You can't magically get yourself out of this. If you want to break Norway's spell, all you have to do is admit you love America and kiss him!"

"I'll do absolutely nothing of the sort!"

If only England could see the blush on his face right now. He'll probably just say it's in anger instead of embarrassment.

"Then your only hope is that America will make the first move instead, but he can't do that if you do not go to him." Hungary plops herself down upon the last stair. "This will all be over before it even begins!"

"I fail to see how an ending is such a terrible problem. Where is America anyway?"

"He's caged high in a tower somewhere, waiting for his prince charming to save him from the evil enchantress." She examines her well-manicured nails. "Prussia in this case."

"Prussia is involved too!?"

"He wouldn't have agreed to this otherwise."

"What about my consent!?"

Hungary sighs. "I'm sorry I forced you into this England, but a number of nations and I are tired of watching you two tiptoeing around each other like a pair of skittish doves…Where are you going?"

England is making a hasty exit towards the doors.

"Are you going to save him then?" She calls out hopefully.

"No! I bet anything this nightmare will end once the clock strikes midnight. In the meantime, I'm going to locate the cellar where I hope for your sake that I shall find a copious amount of alcohol."

"Wait!" Hungary shouts after him. "I don't think you understand-"

The throne room door closes and England is gone before she can explain.

"-what I mean by ending." she finishes lamely.

Crap. This is going to be so much harder than she thought it would be.

~##~

"What do you have to lose, she says!" He mutters to himself. He can hardly see a thing in the dark, and he keeps getting caught on these damn thorns. "America!" he shouts up towards the sky. The window is too high to throw rocks at and of course there is no door, so he can't personally throttle the moron awake.

England had waited past the midnight hour at his temporary castle home. He had waited past several midnights trying to think of every possible way to undo the spell without luck. On the fifth day he had gone slumping back to the throne room in defeat.

"America!" He shouts for the umpteenth time.

Finally the shutters are thrown open to allow a dim light to spill out, and he can faintly see a figure leaning over the sill. "Who is it?"

"I'm soddin' Santa Claus!"

"Where have you been all this time?"

"Delivering presents to good little children. Throw down a rope and let me up already!"

"The only thing I'll be throwing down to you is the contents of my chamber pot!...If I manage to find my chamber pot...How is it that fairy tale people never use the bathroom?"

"America!"

"Alright, alright! Cool your jets and give me a moment."

A considerable length of braided blonde hair is lowered down. For some reason England had not been expecting this tale to be taken so literally, but he shrugs and makes the ascent. When he finally reaches the top, two hands firmly help drag him into the tower room. After dusting himself off and straightening his uniform, England gazes at the American tethered to the hook above the window by his hair.

"My, my. I see you've picked up a rather interesting hobby whilst I was away," he laughs.

America is wearing a long-sleeved, light blue dress which hangs down just above his ankles. It will twirl outward nicely if he so desires to give it a twirl, but he definitely isn't in the mood to do such a thing.

"Hardy harr harr. Get it all out of your system. Apparently the dress comes with the hair, free of charge," he says forlornly. "At least the carpet isn't as long as the drapes."

"Don't be obscene. Now, to the point of my being here. If we want to get home all you have to do is-"

"Not gonna happen," America deadpans. "Prussia already gave me the gist of what's going on and he told me not to kiss you."

England's eyes widen. "You trust what that obnoxious arse says over me!?"

"I wouldn't trust Prussia with a paper plate, but my decision still stands."

"Fine!" England throws a leg back over the sill to retreat whence he came. "Stay in this tower and rot for all I care!"

He misses the fleeting look of worry on America's face.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to my castle to live a life of luxury whilst waiting for this failed plotline to finally terminate on its own. I told Hungary this would happen, but she insisted I waste my time anyway."

"Hold up! Hungary is there with you? Does she...stay with you every day and night?"

England pauses for a moment and raises an eyebrow. "Jealous are we?"

"Not on your life!" America petulantly crosses his arms and finds an interesting spot to stare at. "Just get lost already. The rats are much better company than you are: easier on the

eyes too."

~##~

"Lunatics! The whole bloody lot of 'em!"

England angrily paces about the forest clearing. He couldn't go back to the castle because he knew Hungary would harass him every second of the day. He couldn't go back to the tower because he'd end up killing America: fairy tale be damned. He had spent an entire sleepless night in the cold forest next to a sputtering fire.

Perhaps he should just force a kiss on the American, quickly get the hell home, and sweep this whole matter under the carpet.

Before he can change his mind, England gallops back to the lone tower on his noble steed. When he calls up to the window, he is surprised when America immediately throws down his hair without any snide remarks or complaints. Upon reaching the top, he discovers why.

Prussia is waiting for him. America is nowhere to be found, but the gleam of a pair of scissors embedded upright into the wooden table is explanation enough.

"You're too late, prince charming!" Prussia cackles. "America has been banished to the wilderness where you'll never see him again."

"If you think I'm going to be beside myself with grief and cast myself out this window in despair, you're going to be sorely disappointed," England scoffs.

"Tsk. I can't have you spoiling the fun part!"

With a wave of his hand Prussia sends England flying out the tower's only exit. His yell is cut off when his body hits the waiting briars below.

"Hahahaha!" Prussia turns on his heel and dramatically bows to the new occupant standing behind him. "The score is one to zero my liege."

Hungary scowls.

A/N

Chapter title explanation: Rampion is the English common name for the rapunzel -a salad plant- which was stolen from Dame Gothel's garden in the Brother's Grimm version.

England isn't dead of course. The prince survives his fall in the story but is blinded by the thorns. He spends his sightless days searching for Rapunzel and eventually finds her with his twin children.