The Start Of A Nice Winter

Alfred couldn't contain his excitement when he saw the ship. He had seen countless Royal Navy ships come and go in the last few months, but this one was different. It was his brother's ship, the biggest, fanciest ship he had ever seen in his life.

The small boy began jumping on the dock, grabbing the sleeve of the closest passerby, "He's here! He's here!"

"Kid, where're your parents?" A gruff voice said before the sleeve was ripped from Alfred's hand.

Alfred stared off where the man stormed off to for a moment before his mind got distracted by the ship docking. A large plank was set between the ship and the dock so the men on board could start unloading. Alfred could care less about what the men were doing, the plank was down, so he took a change.

He ran up the ramp to come face-to-face with a tall, dirty looking man carrying a heavy box who only narrowed his eyebrows at him, "Hey, kid, no one else can-HEY!" Alfred quickly ran around the smelly man and onto the ship. He ran and dodged between people as he was yelled at and chased. The boy didn't mind, in fact he liked the attention.

Then, he saw his brother. The man stood tall with his head up, scanning the deck with his emerald eyes and a look on his face that told everyone that he was in charge. He was wearing the same, red British uniform that had many decorations on it. His brother had told Alfred what each decoration meant, but Alfred couldn't remember any of it. He also never understood the pride that his brother had in the worn down uniform, it was just a outfit right? Doesn't matter, because after six months, his brother was finally here.

That's when Alfred felt a hand tightly wrap around his wrist, "Got you!"

When the young boy looked back, he saw a different dirty man, who was trying to drag him away. Alfred tried to wiggle his way out of the man's hand, "No! Let me go!"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON OVER HERE?"

Alfred turned his head and looked up at his brother, who was towering over both of them.

"England!" Alfred shouted in happiness.

"Um, Sir. Kirkland-" The gross man began, only to be cut off by England.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO THIS IS?"

"He's just a kid, Sir." The man said, as if it where obvious.

England narrowed his eyes, "THAT IS THE THIRTEEN COLONIES, YOU DISRESPECTFUL-" England interrupted himself and bit his lip, which meant that he was trying not to curse. Alfred, in all respect, was impressed with his brother's restraint, it usually took a few days for him to get used to not talking as if he were on the ship.

Finally, England sighed, "Just leave the boy alone."

The man let go of Alfred's wrist with a nod and left with a mumbled apology.

Usually, Alfred would have hugged his brother by now, but England had told him many times not to go on the ship, so he just looked up with a guilty expression.

England rubbed the bridge of his nose, "America, how many times have I told you-"

Alfred interrupted, "But, I wanted to see you! You were gone so long!"

"America," England said calmly, "It is very dangerous here for children. Now, I want you to go home and finish your chores."

Alfred gasped, "How do you know I haven't finished them?"

England gave a gentle smile, "I know you too well. I'll be home in a little while, then I can spend time with you, just let me finish here."

Disappointed, Alfred looked down at the floorboards, "Okay."

"Good, I'll see you at home." England restated.

Alfred turned away and headed back towards the ramp, "See ya." He mumbled as he walked off the boat and started his way home. He dodged people in the crowd of the docks with his head down, hoping that no one would stop and ask him if he was lost, or where his parents where. Once he was away from the buildings, there was nothing but a wide, open field with a rocky path set in the middle of it. He followed the path as he kicked rocks out of his way.

It wasn't fair. How could the ship be so dangerous? England always said that the crew was trustworthy, and Alfred knew he was a strong swimmer, so if he fell overboard, he would be fine. And, why is it so important that his does his chores? It's too cold to work outside, and he could always clean tomorrow.

Alfred sighed, sometimes he wished that he could see France more often. France never made him do his chores, in fact, France spoiled him rotten. But, the best part about France's visits, was that sometimes, he would bring Matthew over, the only friend Alfred had that didn't grow old and leave.

But, if Alfred was honest with himself, he did like England's visits more. Sure France was one of the kindest people Alfred had ever met, but England had always been there. For as long as he could remember, England had read him stories, played with him, taught him lessons, and comforted him during scary thunderstorms. France was a great friend, but England was like a brother, or at times, even a father.

Alfred was not a patient boy. It had taken nearly all day to clean the house, it was nightfall, England still wasn't home, and on top of all that, he was hungry. The boy sighed as he fiddled with the toy soldier in his hand, waiting anxiously on the couch.

Then, he heard a horse clopping up the path outside. Alfred jumped off the couch to look out the window. Alfred saw a fancy looking horse drawn carriage pull up beside the house, and England climbing out of it. Alfred immediately ran away from the window and out the front door, making a beeline to his brother.

When Alfred was close enough, England bent down, grabbed the young boy from under the arms, picked him up and spun around in circles. Alfred let out a high-pitched laugh as England brought him close into a hug.

"Oi, you're getting too big for this!" England laughed.

Alfred smiled at that, "Yeah! Someday, I'll be taller than you!"

England's laughter winded down as his hug tightened and his voice turned warm, "Oh, Alfred I missed you, I missed you so much."

"I bet I missed you more!" Alfred shouted in his brother's ear.

England began to walk back towards the house with another chuckle, "Oh, I'm afraid that's impossible."

"What? How?"

"Well," England began as he stepped into the house, "I had to go across the Atlantic twice."

Alfred narrowed his eyebrows at his brother, "So?"

England put Alfred down on the floor, "So, you really don't know the feeling of 'missing your brother' until you're in a storm and your ship is climbing a wave at a ninety degree angle."

Alfred didn't understand the last part, but he didn't really care to ask, "Alright, you win."

"Now," England started as he put up his index finger as if he were addressing something important, "You are hungry, right?"

Alfred gasped, "How did you know?"

England gave a crooked smile, "Like I said, I know you too well."

Alfred raised his voice in frustration, "But, HOW?"

England only chuckled as he made his way up the staircase, his hand grazing on the wooden railing, "Let me get out of this uniform and into something more comfortable, then I'll cook us something."

"Like what?" Alfred called from the bottom step.

England looked back in thought, "How about chicken soup?"

Alfred beamed another smile, "Sounds good."

With a nod, England started down the hallway and towards his room, "Alright then, go get washed up, dinner will be ready soon."

"Okay!" Alfred yelled as he skipped away.

Alfred couldn't be happier. His brother was home and he already had everything planned out. First, they would finish dinner, then play with toy soldiers. Tomorrow, England will probably do "paperwork" while Alfred did chores. After that, they would go to the market, and maybe even see Farmer Jones! Of course, they would play in the snow too… And…

England would leave, just like he always did.

Alfred's happiness suddenly turned to sorrow when he remembered that. The boy rested his chin in his hand with a sigh, slowly stirring his soup in depression.

"Whatever's the matter, poppet?"

Alfred glanced up at his brother, who was staring at him in concern, "You're just going to leave again." He mumbled.

England's expression fell, "Well… Yes, eventually."

Alfred looked back to his soup, "Why?"

England's voice was gentle, "Because it is my home. Just like yours is here."

Alfred was silent for a long moment before meeting his brother in the eyes again, "Why can't your home be here?"

England smiled lightly, "Because my heart lies in London, just as yours lies here." When Alfred tilted his head in response, England shook his head, "You'll understand it when you're older."

Alfred rolled his eyes, he really rather understand it now, but he decided get back on the subject, "How long until you leave?"

Suddenly, England's smile brightened, "You know how I usually only get to stay for a week or two?" Alfred nodded, prompting his brother to continue, "Well, I spoke with my boss before leaving, and I get to spend the whole winter here."

Alfred's eyes widened and a smile grew on his lips, "What? Really? No kidding?"

England shook his head, "I swear I'm not kidding."

"That's so awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, "You're king must be very nice!"

England's smiled dropped a bit, "Well, I've had better rulers…" He said, before chuckling nervously, "Then again, I've had worse."

"Like who?"

England took a sip of his water and set the glass on the table, "Well, there was Bloody Mary."

Alfred tilted his head, "How was she so bad?"

A slight look of horror crossed England's face, "I really don't want to talk about that…"

Alfred shrugged it off and got down from the table, "Can we go play now?"

England looked from Alfred to the mostly eaten bowl of soup, "Aren't you going to finish?"

"I'm full. Can we go play?"

England took a small sigh, "I'll finish your bowl, I am very hungry from the trip. Go ahead and play, I'll be out in a minute."

Alfred smiled as he ran out of the room, "Okie Dokie!"

Alfred walked out of his room and through the hallway, down the stairs, and into the living room. There, England sat reading a book in his favorite, wooden, rocking chair. Alfred walked up to his brother, expecting him to greet him. But, England didn't seem to notice, instead, he turned the page in his book, his eyes quickly scanning the new page.

Impatient, Alfred reached up and tugged on his brother's sleeve, "England?"

England let out a high-pitched shriek as he flinched and dropped the book to the floor. When he turned to Alfred, the look of alarm faded into relief as he sighed and melted back into his chair, placing a hand over his chest, "Goddammit, Alfred, you scared the hell out of me!" He panted.

"I'm sorry." Alfred said, trying not to laugh at the sound that just came out of his brother.

England took a deep breath and a long sigh, "It's alright."

Alfred bent down and picked up the book for England. But before handing it back, he looked at one of the pages. The page written in a language Alfred had never seen before, and had diagrams of strange symbols. Alfred narrowed his eyebrows at England, "What are you reading?"

England took the book away and set it on the table next to him with a nervous smile, "Oh, just a scary book. Why are you up? Can't sleep?"

"How did you know?" Alfred gasped.

"I know you too well." England said as he bent down, picked Alfred up and set him in his lap.

"But how?" Alfred said in frustration.

England hummed in thought, "Magic."

The word made a chill run down Alfred's spine, "No! Magic is evil!"

England looked almost hurt, "Where did you hear that?"

"Farmer Jones."

England nodded, "Well, he is a human."

Alfred tilted his head, not sure where his brother was going with this, "So?"

"So," England began, "Humans can be very ignorant."

Alfred didn't really understand that last part, "Is that a bad thing?"

England sighed tiredly, "You know, Alfred, not all magic is bad."

Alfred's eyes widened at the new information, "There's good magic?"

England yawned as he sunk into his chair with a nod, "Yep. It's called White Magic. I actually know a lot of it, and it is very beautiful."

Alfred gasped in excitement, "Really? Can I see it?"

England set his head back on the chair as he closed his eyes, "Maybe tomorrow. White Magic takes a lot of energy, and I am extremely tired."

Alfred nodded in understanding, "Yeah, you went ninety degrees."

England chuckled, "Yeah, I did run into a few storms, that's why I'm a day late."

"You're a day early." Alfred corrected.

England opened his eyes with a confused expression, "Really? What day is it?"

"Wednesday."

England chuckled again, "Oh, I thought it was friday! Wow, Alfred, your brother is getting old!"

Alfred laughed with him, "Yeah! But not as old as France!"

"Not as old as France," England repeated, his laughter winding down, "I like your sense of humor, Alfred."

A long silence fell and Alfred was growing tired. With a yawn, Alfred set his head on his brother's chest. Alfred could feel the chair begin to rock as England ran his fingers through his hair and hum.

With all the excitement from earlier, Alfred was unable to sleep, but with all what England was doing, Alfred was dozing within a matter of minutes. But even through his light sleep, Alfred noticed the rocks becoming weaker, and the smoothness in England's voice becoming broken until it stopped all together.

"No, don't stop." Alfred mumbled, but when he didn't get a response, he looked up only to find that his brother was asleep. Fear ran down his spine, he hated being alone. But, the feeling subsided when he realized that he wasn't alone. England was still there, he was just asleep. And he was very tired. He had said so many times that evening.

Instead of waking his brother, Alfred bent over the arm of the chair and grabbed his favorite quilt that was on the floor and draped it over them. Then he reached up and ran his finger's through England's hair, "Goodnight, England."

Then, Alfred pulled the quilt up to his chin and laid his head on England's chest, and fell asleep to the sound of his brother's heartbeat.

Author Note:

Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading!

Followers and Favorites of Patience and Through the Years, I sorry for being away for so long, life happened, but I will working on the two ongoing stories again! Check back soon!

Happy Reading, and Fandom Hugs!