So the first several chapters of this story have been laying around for years. I've been really shy about posting them, but I finally decided to throw this to the wolves in the hope that some of you find it enjoyable.

Italics indicate past events.

Important Note: This is fiction, set sometime in the near future, in an alternate reality similar but not identical to our own. I do not mean to provide commentary on the real world or any current events.

London

Alistair Kirkland tugged at his messy auburn hair and was tempted to hit his head on the mahogany desk a few times. The paperwork overfloweth. It was everywhere, and it was all his brother's fault. Three weeks ago, Arthur had come to Edinburgh and asked if Scotland would take over for him at his office in the Houses of Parliament. "I am not remembering agreeing to this," Alistair grumbled to himself as he signed another form with an angry flourish.

Scotland flicked his wrist and watched as the omelette flipped over perfectly in his frying pan. Let's see Arthur pull that off! Just then there was a knock at the door. "Will ye speak of the devil!" Alistair proclaimed as he strode over the door, still in a good mood, with it being a lazy Sunday morning after all. He opened it to find a stone-faced Arthur who wearily eyed the steaming frying pan in Alistair's hand.

"Alistair, I need your help. I think something has happened in the faerie world."

"What, the cold is ruining their usual festivities? The king still can't hold his alcohol?" Scotland could remember drinking said king under the table more than once, it didn't exactly make him popular with the faerie queen or the more dignified members of the court.

"I'm serious, Alba. Don't tell me you haven't sensed it?" England hissed through gritted teeth, a clear sign of growing impatience.

Alistair's smile faded. He had noticed that something had seemed off. A Kelpie had approached him the other day and warned him about a darkness he had seen in one of his few trips to the southern sea. And lately more and more faeries had been trying to sneak into his home. "What are ye onto to?"

Arthur sighed and loosened his tie, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt. He pushed it aside and turned his head for his brother to see. An angry red cut ran along where his shoulder met his neck. Alistair whistled and gently touched the wound. "Mint," Arthur said quietly.

"What?" Scotland asked withdrawing his hand as if he'd been burned. Arthur buttoned his shirt.

"I was working from home and got up to get a cuppa. She flew over screeching, the most horrible noise, and cut me with an enchanted dagger. I backhanded her into the wall, and she hit hard, but it seemed to jostle her out of some spell. I thought she was going to say something but she fell into a faint. I managed to use my own magic to send her to her family in Springwood, and to heal what I could of my shoulder."

"Do you think…. she was controlled?"

"Not a doubt! Mint would never turn on me like that…. And I've been thinking about mum… how she died when we were all so young."

Alistair's eyes widened, "Yeh think Mint's attack on you is linked to… to mum's death?"

"I think we have old foes that we have forgotten about Alistair."

Scotland went quiet for a moment, "Maybe," he whispered still not quite believing it. But that wound on Arthur's shoulder, and the way it had not healed as it would've had it been just a normal knife that cut him, it was impossible to ignore.

Arthur's eyebrow twitched. "I need to find out what is going on. But it's not like the old days when you just had to work with one king. Now all of bloody Parliament wants know what I'm up too. But I can't exactly tell them that my loyal friend, Mint, the flying bunny, just attacked me with an enchanted dagger, now can I? Already, the MPs think I am a few plums short of a fruit pie," he paused, giving his brother a pointed look before continuing, "If both of us were to disappear there would definitely be talk and questions. We have to keep this swept under the rug for as long as possible. So can you fill in for me and put out fires? I'll call you when I can, but I won't be able to reach you from the shadows."

Alistair sighed and ran a hand through his auburn hair. "Two weeks. If you are not back in two weeks and don't have a good reason for it, I am coming to find you. And what should I do about the other fae? Are they still to be trusted?"

"For now. I have a feeling that what happened with Mint wasn't planned. If there is some power that can control the fae, why send only one flying mint bunny after me? You and I both know there are a multitude of other creatures: dragons, ogres, the Beast of Bodim… all would have a way easier time killing a nation. No, whoever is behind this intended to lie low for a little while longer. And I bet they still will "

"Could it be a trap?"

Albion shrugged, clearly not interested in changing his mind about going. Scotland sighed. "Alba, it will be fine. Just don't run the kingdom into the ground, water my plants, and for God's sake, be sensible for two weeks."

Alistair grumbled a bit about being left behind, but eventually decided to let England go. His brother was as stubborn as a mule, and Scotland didn't want what little credit the four of them had remaining with Parliament to be destroyed. If he went, he would have to ask Cymru or Eire to stay, and Eire would definitely blab. Wales wouldn't, but having two of them on an unexplained "business trip" would still arouse suspicion.

The next morning, Alistair had been just about to go on his morning jog when his phone rang. It was Parliament, telling him that as Arthur's listed replacement he better be there during these "turbulent times."

No, he had certainly never agreed to doing this much paperwork. But unfortunately for bureaucracy, Arthur's two weeks were up, and he was going home and packing tonight. He crammed his laptop into his carrier bag, slung it over his shoulder, and was standing when the door slammed open. Alistair turned around slowly, ready to rip the throat out of whatever sleazy MP dared to stop him. He was not expecting an out of breath Albino nation and a crazy Gilbird. Prussia was bent over with his hands on his knees, Gilbird had started flying circles around him and was frantically pecking at Scotland's clothes, and there were angry shouts around the corner. Suddenly, Gilbert stood up, crimson eyes rimmed in either insanity or excitement.

"What are you wearing! Zis no time for dress shoes!" Gilbert proclaimed, grabbing Alistair's hand before throwing them both out the second story window with a crash of shattered glass. Gun fire sounded behind them and even while falling through space, Alistair could only imagine his brother's fury on returning and seeing his beloved mahogany desk from the 1400s blasted to smithereens. But that unhappy thought quickly passed as instincts honed by centuries of warfare kicked in and Alistair tucked and rolled as he hit the ground. There was a wail of sirens, and the two nations were up and running as machine gun fire rained down on them from the office window.

"Prussia! What is going on?" Alistair asked through gritted teeth as he turned a corner. A couple of young police officers, assault rifles at the ready, turned to face them but were too late. Prussia effortlessly kicked one in the gut, while Scotland quickly disarmed the other with a jab to the elbow followed by a hit on the head, picking up the fallen weapon before beginning to sprint. Big Ben tolled 5:00 nearby as the duo raced towards the Thames. Alistair noted a guard in one of the towers aiming at them and without thinking shot him in the arm with the stolen gun. Arthur was going to kill him for that if his police didn't first. God, sometimes he really hated the English. But then again, this was more fun than he had in decades. Trust Arthur's people to provide a good stress relief.

Suddenly the ground was no longer there, and Alistair threw himself into a dive towards the river's murky waters. The cold water stung his body but he kept swimming downward. Bullets pierced that water around them, and Scotland swam faster. Darkness overtook his vision as he felt along the brick wall for a drainage outlet. There! He twisted his body into it and outside of the main current. He was lucky. This outlet was old and no longer in use, meaning the water there was relatively still. He snagged onto Prussia and quickly swam up the brick tunnel until the water level dropped and they could finally crawl onto dry brick.

Coughing water from his lungs, the Scotsman laid on his back breathing heavily. Prussia was next to him, sitting on his elbows and breathing just as quickly. There was movement in Prussia's shirt pocket, and Alistair saw a grumpy Gilbird emerge and tweet at them. When he could finally breathe again, Alistair turned his head to look at the former nation next to him. "Aye, you have some explaining to do. Starting with where you came from and why on God's green earth the London police were shooting at a British country."

Gilbert smiled, "Well, I was on my way to Paris to convince zat lazy bastard to help me torment Spain because zee awesome me was bored. I was just getting off the train, when you know who I saw?"

"My brother?"

"Close, but no. Mein bruder. Ludwig was there in Paris. And I thought, no way mein bruder's been invited to Paris but zee awesome me has not. And so I followed him from a distance. I swear he had no idea I waz even der."

Prussia smiled to himself as he ducked his head away from some chatting tourists coming his way. He was in a good mood and what better way to spend the day than annoying both France and Germany? Sure, maybe it would have been more fun back in the day when he still could have a sword at his side and ride his stallion and nobody would bat an eye…. No. Prussia banished the thought. He would not think of the past as he had promised himself not to think of the future. It was way less painful that way. Shaking his head, he climbed a drainage pipe and landed on an old shop roof as light as a cat before creeping over to the side so he could spy on Germany.

He saw his brother stride into an elegant looking building and give his coat to a young man holding the door open. Just then a black Porsche pulled up and a beautiful woman stepped out. Ludwig turned to greet her. Prussia snickered, had Ludwig finally gotten himself a lady-friend? He turned to Gilbird who was sitting on his shoulder. "Hey, zee awesome me has a mission for you. Go spy on mein bruder, I want to know all about this girlfriend of his." Gilbird tweeted a salute and flew towards the building, Prussia thought it may have been a hotel, to get a closer look. He watched as the two went inside and nodded as he watched Gilbird slip in right behind them as stealthy as a true spy.

A few minutes passed when Prussia spotted France wearing an expensive-looking coat walk up to the door. Part of him wanted to jump his friend and surprise him, but another part, the more mature side that he kept hidden, the stern and patient part of him that kept him alive even after the disastrous wars of this era, told him to wait, to stay hidden, to let his little soldier do his job.

And so wait he did, for an hour or two. When he saw the lady in the black dress who had greeted her brother walk out and get into her waiting car. Prussia waited as he felt his heart start to speed up. Something was wrong. A few minutes later and Gilbird flew out behind an Italian couple walking out of the lobby.

The little bird had landed on his forearm and in rushed but quiet tweets he told Prussia the entire story.

Prussia paused and looked over at Alastair. He licked his lips and sighed before continuing. "Zee lady, according to Gilbird, was calling herself "Europa," and the meeting that was being held was an EU meeting. All the EU nations were zere, except for zee awesome me, since I wasn't invited, and England who either wasn't invited or didn't show up. Gilbird said that she had talked for a long time, but it wasn't like most world meetings. England wasn't zere so France and England were not fighting. America wasn't zere either so he wasn't overly enthusiastic about everyzing. And zee Italies seemed a bit intimidated by zee woman. Then somezing strange happened: everybody started falling asleep. Greece was already out, but soon Spain, the Italies, and even France. Apparently Germany had gotten suspicious, and he drew out his gun, and aimed it at zee lady's head. But before he could say a word, she threw a knife in his shoulder, and he collapsed."

"He told zis all to me, and even zee awesome me waz in shock. Nobody hurts mein bruder!"

Alistair nodded. "So like Arthur, you undoubtedly did something stupid."

Prussia could not believe his ears. An mysterious woman, all the EU nations apparently drugged, his brother down after a single knife wound. He leapt off the building, tucking and rolling as he hit the cobblestone street, ignoring the disgruntled cries of a couple of teenage girls. There was a police motorcycle parked by the hotel, lights flashing, the officer appeared to be waiting for something.

Thankfully Francis's lousy police were nothing compared to the awesomeness of Prussia. He jumped and kicked the officer square in the chest, causing him to topple off the side. With practiced ease, Prussia straddled the saddle and turned into the street. There were shouts in French behind him and flashing lights lit up, but Prussia didn't spare them a second glance. He turned this way and that, dodging cars, vans, and trucks. Kesesesesese, this was far more fun that he had had in ages! Then he heard a shot. He raised an eyebrow, it wasn't like Francis's people to fire into a crowded city. He jumped the curb of the median, hoping to get away from the crowded street, and swerved expertly around a lamp-post when another shot rang out and suddenly he was flying. Prussia twisted in the air, trying to get his sense of space back. He noted with relief that he had not been shot, there was no stabbing pain, most likely his front tire had just been blown out. But soon he was falling too fast and he crashed into a fruit stand.

Juices splattered his nice polo shirt and somebody was yelling a him as Prussia quickly tried to get oriented. Suddenly an iron grip had his arm and was tugging him up. "Get up, you idgit!" And then he was running again, England, of all people, leading him through the now chaotic streets of Paris. Shots rang out again, and Prussia quickly ducked behind a lamppost just as it was hit. They turned a corner, Arthur glancing behind them once before pulling them into a cathedral. They raced towards the front and crouched down behind one of the pews.

"England! What is going on?"

"No time to explain! Europe is in danger. The World maybe as well. Dark magic will not work in Churches, we are safe here for the moment. I am going to open a portal, send you to England. I need you to grab my brothers and get them out of there. Go see America, his lands are the safest right now. Then come back for us! Do you hear me?" Frantic green eyes searched crimson ones as Arthur tried to shake Gilbert into understanding.

"What? No! Arthur, I don't…." but before Prussia could get another word out he was falling through space and time.

And zen, zee awesome me fell right in front of Parliament, and people started to scream, and I made a run for it. I thought one of you might be here so I decided to check.

"Why were they shooting at you?"

"I'm not sure, zey must have gotten trigger happy."

Scotland sighed, this sure was a marvelous mess he had landed in. And for a flesh-and-blood woman to show up just when he was planning on dealing with the faerie realm.