A/N: Forgive me if this is confusing. It is just a prologue of sorts. This is based very loosely on the short story Camelot Garden by the wonderful Kaori Yuki, so elements of her plot exist, but are very little in comparison with my own.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia nor Camelot Garden.

His lungs felt like they were ready to burst from exertion and a deep burning radiated through his chest and throat as his legs pumped hard to make it through the difficult terrain. Everything was blurred, his body was both cold and heavy and with every agonizing strain of his muscles, he felt his body slow; for what reason he couldn't comprehend.

His mouth opened and through his hazy mind he felt as though some sound was released – a name, but whose name he couldn't recall either. Darkness crept into the edges of his vision; contrasting with the blinding white of the world around him. Slowly seeping closer to the middle of his sight…slowly…

"Where am I…?"

Cold…He collapsed to his knees. As the rest of his frame fell forward, he closed his eyes. Why did it matter where he was any longer? He wasn't going anywhere – not with the inviting blanket of soft, cold fluff slowly enveloping him in a lovingly cruel embrace.

"What happened…?"

He felt so weak…was he wounded? Or just tired? He probably just needed to rest…the wind seemed to agree as it tousled his hair wildly and howled in his ears. To him the wind's touch felt like someone lovingly stroking his tresses and its screams sounded like soft lullabies whispering him to sleep. The world itself was urging him to sleep…

"Who…?"

That was the real question, wasn't it - and certainly the hardest to answer. It was so cold…so cold it was warm. Maybe after some sleep his questions wouldn't be so difficult to answer. Sleep…sounded nice.

Just a quick nap. Nothing too long…

Compare thy life to a deck of cards…

Light lashes fluttered gently as they opened to allow violet orbs to gaze up at a haze of blue and white. He blinked slowly as his eyes adjusted to the dramatic change in lighting. It was weird. He didn't remember falling asleep, especially not in grass. Through blurred vision, all he could see were vague outlines of foliage and flora on the horizon, painting an obscure depiction of greens and blues; none of which were helpful in distinguishing exactly where the hell he was. Or how he got there.

The young man slowly sat up, clutching the side of his head as a horrible sense of vertigo shot through his system. "O-ow…" he groaned softly, feeling around by his side with his free hand as he attempted to regain control of his reeling senses. A small clink let him know he'd found what he was looking for. Much to his relief, the glass and frame of his spectacles were still intact when he placed them back on his face. Yet the relief was short-lived when he looked around slowly at his surroundings.

Deep green foliage was all around; large, beautiful trees rose up from behind large hedges that were trimmed to perfection, their branches leaning over a path of flagstones amidst the grass off to his right. Looking further along said path, splashes of bright colors sprouted amid the greenery; vivid blues, purples, reds, yellows and…and black? The boy slowly wobbled to his feet, curiously staring at splotch of black in the distance. It…was a person! Maybe they could help him figure out where he was and how he could get home!

"Why won't you grow at my home…?" The voice in the distance was deep. As the young blonde followed the flagstone path he stopped and hid behind a particularly high hedge in order to peer at the person just beyond him. The large figure stood just off the path, his gloved hand raised up to gently caress the bright petals of a sunflower that stood tall among its shorter counterparts. The man's ashen blonde hair and light beige scarf were a light contrast with the stark black of the uniform he wore and the only actual color adorning his person was a deep red patch over his breast pocket of a club. The giant sighed softly, "My home is so cold…all the sunflowers die there. It sad, don't you think malyutka?"

The boy squeaked in surprise, pressing himself closer to the hedge to hide from view. He saw me? H-he didn't even look this way!

"Come now malyutka…I am not being the very patient type~" His tone, while sweet-sounding, held a menacing undertone that sent a shiver down the boy's spine.

The blonde swallowed hard, slowly stepping out onto the path and nervously walking towards the much bigger man. He bit his lip in his anxiety, willing himself not to tremble when he finally looked up to see the disturbingly calm smile on the other's countenance. He stopped in his tracks when a glimmer of light bounced off the metal of something hanging loosely in the taller man's free hand – a water pipe when examined closer, and one with quite a good amount of dents towards the faucet head (from what, the boy did not venture to speculate).

Violet eyes, akin to his own, racked their way down his frame in an uncomfortably calculating manner. One pale eyebrow rose in question. "What suit are you from? You're not wearing any Deck uniform..." The man took a few steps towards the boy, his smile twitching downward slightly the more he looked over the boy's attire of a large red sweater and baggy jeans. "Red…you are part of the Harts?"

"I-I'm not sure wh-what you're talking about…" He took a defensive step backwards. His eyes were following that menacing weapon held in a leather-clad hand as it swung slightly with every footstep of the giant. "P-please, I'm not even sure how I got here..."

"I would not recommend lying to me –"

"Ivan Braginski! What the bloody hell are you doing on Hart property? If Alfred even caught wind of your presence here you can be sure there would be hell to pay!" Both men turned to see a disheveled-haired blonde storming down the path on his way towards them. His bright red jacket fluttered behind him as he hurried towards the duo and from what the boy could see there was a heart of the same shade on the left shoulder of the garment, adorned with a light trim of gold. "Answer me Club!" The word was spat out like the syllable left an unpleasant taste in the man's mouth.

The larger man, Ivan, smiled sweetly in reply. "Nice to be seeing you comrade Artur~ I perhaps thought that I would help my good friends out by following suspicious person wearing no uniform!" He put a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder; gripping it firmly enough to communicate that there was absolutely no escape from such a position. "Aren't I so nice?"

"W-wait! I didn't sneak in here! I-I don't know where h-here is! I don't know him, eh!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, looking between both of the intruders. "Ivan, just get off our property before I fetch the rest of my Suit to personally escort you from the premises. And do leave the lad here. If he's not affiliated with your Suit then I'll see to him."

"Oh, is that how Harts are working now?" A smile twisted up into a smallest of smirks. "They have to call everyone to be defending the little castle from big bad peoples~?

"Don't be getting the wrong idea Braginski…" Arthur growled softly, his hand drifting down to his side, slipping just inside the coat. There was a clink of metal. A surge of panic swept over the boy as he remembered the taller man's metal pipe just behind him, and to his front the blonde seemed to be in possession of a weapon as well – he was smack dab between two potential psychopaths about to brawl it out!

"What idea, I wonder….perhaps it being that the Hart's Queen is sore about being overshadowed by loud, obnoxious idiot? Must hurt much being knocked off your throne, da~?" Violet eyes glimmered in amusement as the shorter blonde began trembling with rage. "Nothing but Queen now…doomed being in shadows; broken and useless."

One fluid movement and Ivan stood staring down the end of a blade. The blonde's green eyes flared with anger, so much so that his body trembled, save the hand that stayed steady and poised at the cloth-covered throat belonging to the object of his rage. If the tall man's words hadn't upset him enough, the fact that his damned smile stayed in face of his weapon only served to piss the man off more. "Get. Out."

"Did I hit nerve?"

The tip of the decorative blade threatened to touch the fabric of the scarf. "I said…get out. Now."

"…Very well." The smile never faltered. Ivan slowly let his hand fall from the boy's shoulder, letting gloved fingers trail down his back as the appendage fell; eliciting a shiver from the smaller of the two. The Russian man giggled darkly to himself, "I do hope I be seeing you again soon." he whispered low, pulling his beige scarf further up to cover his face slightly. "Do svidaniya."

Both blondes watched Ivan walk off down the stone path and disappear amidst the dense vegetation. "Th-thank you so much…" the boy let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "I honestly don't know who that was or what he was doing here. H-he was just the first one I saw in here when I woke up – eep!" He let out an unmanly squeak as the fearsome, bladed weapon turned his way with a flourish; the point resting at the apex of his sternum. Green eyes were still hard as they turned their full attention to the boy.

"Name, lad. Tell me your name and your reason for trespassing upon the Hart property."

"I-it's…u-um…"

"Stand straight and just tell me your name." Arthur was obviously losing his patience.

It wasn't that the boy was too nervous to spit out his name, in truth he was trying! He was racking his brain, and something just wasn't…clicking. He clutched his head gently, biting his lip as he concentrated harder (while simultaneously tried to ignore the point of a sword aimed at his chest) to extract the information that was expected of him. Why couldn't he remember…? "Wh-who…?" He mumbled to himself, mulling over the question. Why did the phrase sound so familiar?

"…lad?" Arthur slowly sheathed his sword.

"Who am I…?" The boy spoke softly, gripping his head the slightest bit harder as a dull throbbing began to develop. He didn't even notice when Arthur came to his side, asking of his condition in hurried speech; but he was much too preoccupied with his own racing thoughts to pay the man mind. "N-ng…who am I?"

"Just calm down lad! What exactly is going on?"

"Mon Dieu, what is with all the racket out 'ere?" A flashily dressed blonde strutted their way, flipping his wavy hair out of his face with all the grace of a prince (that surely he considered himself practically being).

"None of your business Frog! Can't you see I'm busy here? Just go inside and choke on a snail or something!"

"Oh how you wound me Arthur! And if you just tried escargot, I'm sure you'd find it quite more sophisticated a dish than anything you could conjure up– …oh?" The man's eyes sparkled with curiosity as the young intruder finally caught his attention. "And who is this lovely specimen~?"

"I was just figuring that out –"

"M-Matthew…"

Arthur froze, blinking at the boy in surprise. His voice was so soft he almost imagined that he had heard the name. "I'm sorry, come again?"

"I-I think it's Matthew…my name, that is." 'Matthew' gnawed anxiously on his bottom lip as he searched his memory for confirmation. There was no such concrete memory that he could conjure up to affirm his claim; just an impression. "M-Matthew…Williams?"

"Alright…Matthew, what are you doing here?"

"Don't be so rude! Obviously ze boy is distressed…" The man pushed his way past the sputtering Brit, who was understandably annoyed with the newcomer butting into his business so suddenly, and snaked an arm around Matthew's shoulders. "Come with me mon cher, we will get you out of those horrible clothes and into something more…tasteful~ Then we can talk all Eyebrows wants to about how you got 'ere!" He smoothly guided the slightly taller boy along a division in the path they were on, deeper into what appeared to be the beginning of a garden maze.

"O-oh…sounds nice…"

"Hey! Don't refer to me like that! I'm your superior dammit!"

...~/~...

Arthur hurried after them, hurling insults and jabs at the other man as they walked through the winding passages; which his counterpart seemed to take and return in practiced stride. Matthew slowly allowed himself to relax in the company of the two and even found that he laughed quietly at some of their antics. Though deep down he was frightened (and who wouldn't be waking up with a downright unhelpful case of amnesia, in an unfamiliar setting, and getting subtly (and not so subtly) threatened with bodily harm), his initial trembling had subsided and luckily the initial fear had dimmed down only to a simmering layer of anxiety as time passed, instead being replaced by overwhelming curiosity. All events had left the blonde a bundle of silent questions.

For one, there was the oddity that consisted of the flashy outfits his two escorts were wearing. Both had a palate of reds, white and gold; and both were certainly extravagant in design and bore a gold trimmed heart emblem somewhere on the fabric. Arthur looked regal and dangerous in a deep red coat that extended to mid-thigh; the gold adorning the lining and edges of the garment lent to giving the man's appearance an overall pirate look of sorts – yet a very gentlemanly pirate. As for Francis, he wore a sort of cloak over his outfit that was the same shade of red as Arthur's coat. Intricate designs of roses were woven into the fabric with beautiful beads of gold and white littered among the pattern. With the man's silky hair resting at his shoulders in loose waves and the flashy cloak around his shoulders, Matthew couldn't help but think he very much resembled a woman from the back. (Not that he would ever be rude enough to say so aloud!) Either way, the men made Matthew feel a little insecure, what with his loose jeans and oversized hoodie.

Then there was all the talk of 'suits' and 'Kings and Queens', 'Hearts and Clubs' – he just couldn't wrap his head around just what any of this could mean. Then again moments before he couldn't wrap his head around what his own name was…so he supposed the more intricate talk should be expected to only confuse him further.

Matthew sighed to himself. There were just too many questions to even count! Where am I? How'd I get here? Why can't I remember anything? Why did that scary-looking man from before have a Russian accent? Wait a second...why do I remember what Russia is while I couldn't even recall my own name before?

"Francis...? Where exactly are we going?" Matthew softly questioned, gently tugging on the edge of the man's cloak to get his attention. Guess it was better to opt for one of the less confrontational questions at the moment…

"Mon ami, we are not going anywhere. We've already arrived~" He chuckled, motioning forwards with an exaggerated flourish as the trio rounded a bend in the hedges. An archway signaled the end of the long maze with the narrow walkway formed by the towering hedges suddenly opening up to a large open courtyard. "Welcome to the Red Palace."

Matthew's eyes widened at the grand sight of the building stretching high above them. High towers and arches stood proud with intricate decorative architecture built around, on, and within the very structure of the palace's material. The building was simply breathtaking…and they were only on the outside! Matthew could only imagine what beauty the interior's configuration held. "Wow…"

"Exactly. Damn impressive a thing it is." Arthur stepped forward, proudly admiring the structure. "I'm just relieved Alfred hasn't set the thing ablaze yet…or blown it up." How quickly a smile turned into a scowl.

"Oui. One of the only good things about your reign, mon ami, was your somewhat sophisticated taste in architecture. Though, I am sure I could have done it much better~"

"Why you –"

"Arthur-san, Francis-san…please restrain from fighting. Especially in front of a guest."

"Oh, Kiku, I didn't see you there…" Arthur coughed in mild embarrassment at being called out when displaying such childish behavior, straightening his coat.

"That is the point." The small Japanese man sat beside a pillar, staring into the large reflection pool at the center of the area while taking small sips from a cup in his hands. Chocolate-colored eyes drifted from their primary focus and instead directed towards the three men. "I'm sure that your speech is causing our guest some discomfort. It would be more polite if you were to cease your pointless disagreeing unless you are in private. Arigatou."

"Ohonon~ I like this idea of 'disagreeing' in private. Lets go~"

"Take your filthy hands off me you git! I won't be going anywhere fast with you!"

"Oh, so mean…just come with me you old prude and leave little Matthieu in Kiku's capable hands~" Francis tugged on the shorter man's waist, smiling shrewdly.

Arthur's face grew red with indignation. "Why the hell would I come with you?"

Francis chucked, pulling the Brit close enough to whisper saucily into his ear. "You would come because you would be in too much mind-numbing pleasure you wouldn't care that it was me pushing you over the edge~" A sly tongue slipped past smirking lips to flicker across a heated earlobe. "So let's go make le amour…till I make you come~"

"You disgusting son of a bitch!" Francis made a hasty retreat as a blade was unsheathed and aimed his way. An angry Arthur stood behind said weapon; face flared with embarrassment and rage, and one of his eyes twitching at the sheer indecency of the Frenchman's proposal. "Start running! I'm going to bloody well take y'er head off!" The Frenchman didn't need to be told twice. He booked it.

As heavy shouting and cursing (and the occasional metallic ring of metal missing flesh) disappeared into the building's interior, Matthew couldn't help but just stare after them in an incredulous silence. What kind of place did I fall into…?

"Very sorry…that is normal unfortunately." He nearly jumped when the small Asian boy appeared at his side.

"O-oh…w-well…that's certainly interesting behavior." Matthew laughed nervously. He shifted slightly when his gaze honed in on the sword resting on Kiku's hip. Is everyone here armed to the teeth? He groaned inwardly. "U-um…I'm sorry, but can you explain to me what's going on? I-I'm so lost and c-confused…"

"My apologies. Arthur-san and Francis-san tend to forget the fear one feels when entering this place." Kiku sighed softly, turning back towards the building's entrance; two heavy, bright red double doors. "Please follow me. I'll explain as best I can."

To be continued...