Lullaby Short story
The air was cold and crisp, and England could see his breath as he marched over the strange hills called coulees. He had always found these hills strange and magnificent as the flat prairies gave way to them. His feet crunched upon the frosty grass, and his faithful springer spaniel bounded along by his side. In his left hand he held two dead rabbits and his other was his shot gun.
He made his way to the large stone and wood cabin, the chimney smoking gently. He could see no other house or signs of civilization on the prairies and he could usually see for miles on the flat landscape past the coulees. It was just another indication to how big this country was. He could see deer, and a strange ungainly creature called a moose, but no other humans. Then again he wasn't a human, and neither where the beings in the cabin that he was rapidly approaching, so it was fair to say there were no humans here for maybe hundreds of miles.
He opened the door to the cabin. As soon as he did he was greeted with a blast of warmth from the fire in the hearth, and hurried to close the door behind himself to keep the warmth in. He could hear an adult male voice in the closest bedroom down the hall singing in a sweet but slightly rough manner. He stopped to listen, his heart hammering in his chest at the familiar words.
After placing the rabbits on the counter top in the kitchen he went to join the singing man in the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and saw a small child curled under the blankets on his bed. The boy had shoulder length blonde hair and a stubborn cork screw curled strand standing straight up. His purplish blue eyes slowly disappearing under his drooping eyelids. England felt his heart lighten at the sight of his youngest son Canada, for that was who the boy was.
Sitting on the foot of the boy's bed, carving a wooden figure of a horse, was a fiery red haired man. His emerald eyes, that where the only proof that he was related to his blonde haired brother England, shone as he looked down upon the sleepy child.
"Fhuair mi lorg na lach air an lòn
Na lach air an lòn, na lach air an lòn
Fhuair mi lorg na lach air an lòn
Cha d'fhuair mi lorg mo chubhrachain
Fhuair mi lorg an laoigh bhric dheirg...
Fhuair mi lorg and eich 's a phairc...
Fhuair mi lorg na bà 's a pholl...
Fhuair mi lorg na caorach geala..." Sang the red head
"Fhuair mi lorg a cheo's a bheinn..." Finished England
The red head looked up in surprise at England. Little Canada was asleep with all his animal stuffed toys surrounding him. The red haired brother stood up slowly, his embarrassed face clashing with his red hair. England smiled at his elder brother's embarrassment.
"That lullaby really suits Canada, he loves animals. Where's America and the others?" asked England
"France went oot tae get some o' those wee herbs he likes. America is with Ireland, hopefully havin his afternoon nap." Replied England's brother
"Thanks Alba." Thanked England as he kissed his little son on the forehead and then followed his brother out of the room
Alba, or Scotland as he was better known as, nodded his head in acknowledgement and sat down upon a chair near the fireplace to continue his carving. England went further down the hall to the next bedroom. He paused by the door and let the lullabies words wash over him, as if they where the light of the sun. Hearing the song was like being reunited with a long lost friend. England opened the door and slipped into the room without the occupants noticing.
One was a small boy, the twin of Canada, except his blonde hair was shorter and scruffier than his brothers, but just like England's. His eyes were a lovely blue, which he had inherited from his other parent nation, France. The other was a full grown man, also with red hair, but a softer more orange hair than Scotland's, but the same emerald eyes as the other brothers. He was singing to the small boy, who was sitting up straight fighting the sleep that threatened to take him.
"Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach
Tá do dheaid ag teacht gan mhoill ón chnoc
Agus cearca fraoich ar láimh leis
Agus codlaidh go ciúin 'do luí sa choid
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach
Tá an samhradh ag teacht le grian is le teas
Agus duilliúr ghlas ar phrátaí
Tá an ghaoth ag teacht go fial aneas
Agus gheobhaimid iasc amárach
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol, 's a ghrá liom
Dún do shúil, a rún mo chroí
Agus gheobhair feirín amárach" Sang the man
"That sounds funny! Why do you talk like that Uncle Ireland?" asked the boy innocently
"Because that language is my real language. Your dad use to speak like this too. Your uncle Scotland and Wales speak similar languages to it." The orange haired man replied
"Does that mean I will have to learn to speak like that as well? Canada already knows French! " panicked the boy
"No. Yer dad lost the skill long ago, he rarely speaks like this, unless he is Cornwall." Replied Ireland a little sadly
"Oh. " sighed the boy with relief
"I could make a exception for you if you wish America." Teased England making the other two jump
"Dad! You're back! Does that mean that it's dinner time soon?" asked America hoping to get out of his afternoon nap
"Not yet. I'll wake you when it is." England said kissing the boy on the forehead
America pulled a face at his father's kiss, but otherwise settled down obediently in his bed. Ireland made sure the boy was covered with his blankets. Both left the room, but only after England had located America's toy and given it to the boy. Ireland pulled the door shut and they both walked towards the main room where Scotland was still sitting.
"It's been a long time since I heard that song. You use to sing it to me when I was still a tribe. But you've changed the lyrics for him. Instead of " dheaid you would sing dhearthair" for me. " England reminisced
Ireland said nothing, but looked like he was remembering something from long ago. Perhaps a time when England didn't have colonies or settlements. A time when he had been a boy, innocent and getting into trouble with the fea.
"Who knew that you British brothers could be so soft and sentimental." Teased a blonde with hair in a pony tail and sparkling blue eyes the same as America's
"Welcome back love. Consider it a weakness of my brothers and mine. We may lash out at each other, and any other nation who stands in our way. But when it comes to the little colonies or settlements in our family, woe befall any who try to harm them. We can't help but gather and try to raise them the best we can. " England explained giving the blonde with hair in a ponytail a kiss
"Tres bien, but how many times have I asked you to not let your dogs into ze kitchen or leave your gun lying around? " Sighed the blonde
"Ah, sorry France." England muttered as he picked up his gun and shooed his dog, Irelands wolfhound and Scotland's terrier out of the kitchen.
Authors notes:
Scotland's lullaby in English:
I found the track of the duck on the pond
the duck on the pond, the duck on the pond
I found the track of the duck on the pond
I found no track/trace of my fragrant wee one
I found the track of the mottled, russet, young deer...
I found the track of the horse from the meadow...
I found the track of the milk cow from the pool...
I found the tack of the white sheep...
I found the track of the mountain mist...
Please note that Scottish gaelic is different to Irish.
Irelands lullaby in English:
Close your eyes, my love
My worldly joy, my treasure
Close your eyes, my love
And you will get a present tomorrow
Your dad is coming from the hills
With game and grouse in plenty
So close your eyes, my love, my joy
And you will get a present tomorrow
Close your eyes, my love
My worldly joy, my treasure
Close your eyes, my love
And you will get a present tomorrow
The summer sun shines bright and warm
And potato stalks grow greener
A bracing breeze blows from the south
And we will have fish tomorrow
Close your eyes, my love
My worldly joy, my treasure
Close your eyes, my love
And you will get a present tomorrow
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I left France without a gender for a reason. Some people do not like yaoi, so I removed any such things. If you want this France to be the nyotalia France or the regular France then it is completely up to of Form