As Australia is stifling a yawn as he walks outside of the Heathrow Airport, New Zealand is next to him on the phone.

England was supposed to pick them up an hour ago. Instead, a middle-aged driver arrives and delivers an apology from England himself. He introduces himself as Robert and explains that England was busy with some government officials.

Once they are inside the vehicle, New Zealand calls England and after hanging up he explains: England is busier than expected and couldn't finish on time. He would arrive at the old house tomorrow at noon instead. The house now has Wi-Fi and some houseworkers left the place ready for them.

Australia mouths an 'oh well' and looks out the window.


After a brief detour at Tesco because Australia wanted some beer and 'whatever England keeps at the old place ain't gonna be enough', they keep their route to the old house.

The place, located in the English countryside, is an old mansion where England brought both of them as children back in the day, usually to ease them in before going to the busier cities like London.

Australia can't say he is particularly fond of the place. Most good memories seem marred by England's stuffiness. When Australia wasn't outside playing on the trees and bushes, much to England's annoyance, he was inside being scolded for not behaving like a proper gentleman (the word colony was not said out loud, but its presence was very much felt).

Perhaps England thought the familiarity would make the reunion better.

It all disappears from Australia's head once the front of the mansion became visible.


Despite the fact the last time they were inside the house was during the tail end of World War II, the place looks nearly the same as when they were children.

The rooms are large and filled with furniture over a hundred years old. If it weren't for the lights, some frames with photographs taken at recent conferences, and a couple of modern books mixed with old ones on the bookshelves, Australia would think he was being transported to the 19th century.

He and New Zealand go upstairs to the guest rooms to unpack. On the way there, he remembers the second door to the right and exclaims:

"Hey, Kiwi! 'member the cool place were the old man kept all the medieval swords 'n stuff?"

New Zealand is just turning his head when Australia is already opening the door.

Both enter and find a small room filled with all sorts of medieval memorabilia. The walls are decorated with swords, maces, and daggers; meanwhile, a large glass display contains assorted jewelry and tattered clothes.

New Zealand is staring at some medieval daggers on one wall when he hears the sound of metal against leather and turns around to see Australia unsheathing an old sword and doing a bad job of swinging it.

"Look at me, mate! Betcha I look like more badass than those dudes from Lord of the Rings!"

New Zealand tries to hold back a laugh, but it ends up sounding like a mix of a snort and choking. He smiles and answers.

"Dunno, Oz. I'd say it looks more like a kid who just discovered LARPing or Skyrim."

(He does find Australia's pout both funny and adorable at the same time, but keeps that to himself. Besides, no one disses Lord of the Rings under his watch.)

After that, they leave their luggage in the guest rooms and go back downstairs. Australia is stretching his limbs while fighting back jetlag-induced drowsiness. New Zealand, on the other hand, is in the kitchen with the coffee maker.

New Zealand pours himself a cup and walks to the dining room. At that time, he sees Australia going back to the mansion's entrance as if trying to leave already.

"Going out already?"

Although he can't see Australia at this point, he can him opening the front door and yelling back at him:

"I need some fresh air. Save some beer for me, 'kay? Be back in an hour or two."

New Zealand hears the door close and sits down, pulls out his phone and starts checking his e-mail.


Australia might not exactly be England's biggest fan, but he can admit that he loves the view of the countryside. It's nowhere near as beautiful and liberating as a summer drive in the Outback, but he'll take it.

He walks around and climbs a large tree. The forest is so large that he can't see any town or house nearby aside from the old place. The sunset is coming and the sky slowly darkens as the night make its arrival. Australia basks in the view and, as he gets ready to climb back down, he sees little dots of light on lower branches of the trees.

Once he touches the ground, he decides to follow along.

"Damn! Kiwi's gonna miss this for bein' on the bloody phone all day."

Just as Australia is about to reach for his phone inside his pants pocket for a picture, he sees a couple of strange lights in the distance. Their glow is a bit faint, but their size is larger than the lights made of glow worms and that piques his interest.

He follows them, even though he hardly notices the fact they never seem to become closer. Slowly, more strange lights start to pop up, accompanied by a soft and barely audible jingling noise.

He stops in tracks when he finds a large circle of mushrooms on the grass. At the center of it there's a small light. He enters the circle and, as he slowly gets closer, he could swear the light is a fairy or something of the sort. When he reaches his hand to touch it, the light quickly moves away and disappears.

Before he realizes it, his mind is covered in a strange fog that gradually fades away and sends him back to the 1800's.

A young Australia gasps in childlike wonder to his surrounding while, unbeknownst to him, giggles and screams roar on his back.


New Zealand, after finishing his second cup of coffee, gets bored with the house and decides to go out for some fresh air.

By now, the sky is dark and dotted with stars. The glow worms have started to do their thing and the trees and bushes.

Curious, he decided to follow the lights. Not long after, he notices that the lights are increasing in number and brightness. A few meters away he notices Australia's silhouette. New Zealand would leave him alone most days, but considering that both are jetlagged as all hell and they have to be awake the next day before noon, he decided to yell at him.

"Oz, hey! Aren't you coming back for sleep? At least for a beer?"

Australia doesn't seem to hear him and keeps walking forward. The lights seem to gather and dance around him. What catches New Zealand's attention as he gets closer is that the lights seem to make strange noises, like a mix of jingle bells and high-pitched giggles.

"Australia!"

The lights get closer and closer to Australia, to the point that New Zealand can't see him anymore. He tries to get closer, and the noise is starting to become louder.

"Oz! What are you doing!?"

Just as he reaches the mushroom circle, the lights form a wall and refuse to let New Zealand in. He can hear many voices yelling at him.

"Leave!"

"He is our friend!"

At this moment is when New Zealand realizes that the lights speaking to him are, in fact, fairies (who knew those were real!). Unsure of what to do, he decides to reason with them.

"Um… Look, I don't know if he told you anything, but he and I are friends. We grew up together… for the most part. He and I were just on our way home and-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish as the fairies interrupt him, all of them screaming over each other.

"But he is in our territory!"

"Yes! That means he is ours now."

"He has to stay here until midnight!"

New Zealand has trouble hearing what they are all saying, but he does manage to hear the last part.

"Wait, wait, wait. The hell you meant by midnight?"

The fairies start to giggle among themselves. New Zealand is not sure if it is innocent or malicious, but he does not like where things are going.

"He has to stay here!"

"When the moon reaches the highest point, he will become one of us!"

They don't really explain a lot, but New Zealand is able to gather that if Australia will be in trouble if he stays there. He tries to get closer when the fairies hiss in fury and touch his arm. It feels as if one thousand bees have stung him and he pulls back in pain.

No matter how much he tries, they do not let him get any closer. After pondering for a few moments about what he should do, an idea begins to creep in. It is not very elegant, but it seems to be his only option.

As he goes back to the mansion, he hopes that Australia may still be there once he comes back.


New Zealand nearly trips twice as he runs back to the house. The clock in the foyer proudly displays that it is 11:05 pm. New Zealand is one-hundred percent sure that there's no way time could have gone by that quickly. He decides to blame the fairies and climbs the staircase two steps at a time.

He enters England's old memorabilia room and searches the walls for a weapon that can help him.

For once in his life, he is grateful for listening to England's stories as a kid (against his will, in all fairness, but now is not the moment to mull over that). His eyes find just what he needs: an old and rusted iron dagger, probably used by England before the medieval times.

He picks it up and feels it in his hand. In all honesty, he isn't sure it is going to be that useful. The blade is dull and incapable of even making a slight cut. The handle and the blade feel so old and brittle that New Zealand is certain that the dagger will break apart the moment it collides with something. Considering that it is the only weapon in the room made of completely of iron and he has less than an hour left before it is too late for Australia, he hopes it is good enough and firmly holds it before leaving the mansion and running back into the woods.


New Zealand's legs are about to give out when he reaches the fairy portal in the grass. The fairies feel his presence and gather in front of the mushrooms in order to not let him in.

The bells and the screams are so loud that New Zealand nearly covers his ears in pain. He decides against it and opts to brandish the dagger in front of them, adjusting his posture to look stronger and more intimidating than how he usually looks like.

Upon looking at the dagger, the fairies hiss in disgust and try to avoid it while still protecting their home and Australia inside of it.

"Let me in," New Zealand demands.

They don't respond, but stay in their place, which makes their response sell evident. New Zealand walks in closer to the circle, dagger in front of him at all time and holding it with the tightest grip he can manage. They don't even try to attack him and he's glad for it, as he is not sure the dagger is in any condition for combat.

"I just want him back, " his voice is loud, but firm, "let me in."

The fairies move away from the dagger, and thus create a way for him to enter their realm. The inside looks nearly the same as the regular woods, except for a strange air the permeates the place with an aura New Zealand can't really fully comprehend, and Australia, who is kneeling down next to a bush and staring at it with a mixture of wonder and reverence.

"Oz, come on. Let's go back."

It doesn't seem like Australia is ignoring him on purpose, but more like he doesn't seem to be aware that New Zealand is talking next to him.

New Zealand kneels down as well and looks at him. Australia's eyes are glassy and don't even seem to be really looking at the bush, but rather at something inside his head, as if in a trance.

New Zealand pats him on the shoulder and to talk to him again.

"Australia, we have to go. Now."

No response.

"Australia, please! We can't stay here!"

Australia's lack of response worries New Zealand to the point that doesn't even notice the fact that he's screaming and gripping Australia's shoulders so hard to the point of bruising.


Australia sits on his knees as he intently observes a row of ants going in its merry way.

He was eating dinner with England inside the mansion. He would have stayed there, except that he became fed up after England slapped his hand for the third time that night: once for chewing with the mouth open and twice for not picking the right fork when at the dinner table.

"….ia…"

He hears a faint voice in the distance but, assuming it to be England's, decides to ignore it.

"…alia… wa…. up"

The voice is increasing in volume, albeit not by much. At the very least, Australia can now tell it's not England speaking. Who could it be?

"…wa… up!"

He gets up, brushes dirt off his pants and looks around to find a small silhouette in the distance on the way to the mansion. India and Canada are too big for that, he's sure. He squints his eyes and manages to see a familiar hairstyle.

"Oi, Zee! What are you doing over there!?" he yells back.

New Zealand does not move. The voice is becoming louder and clearer.

"Wake up! We have to go now!"

He is sure that's not New Zealand's voice, he is way higher-pitched, especially when yelling.

"Can you hear that voice too, mate?"

For some strange reason, even though he can't pinpoint the owner of that voice, he can't help but feel a strong sense of familiarity, as if he had heard it before.

At that moment, New Zealand begins to run in his direction while the voice keeps repeating the same phrases over and over. The trees seem to blur together and he feels heavy on the head.

As New Zealand gets closer, Australia notices that he doesn't look as young as he should be. New Zealand seems taller and more fit, even if the hair is the same.

Australia doesn't know what to do when New Zealand sits down next to him, smiles, and offers his hand…

"Come on Oz, we have to go back."

… but he takes it.


In that precise moment, Australia is startled awake and looks at his surroundings in confusion.

"Wha..?"

In front of him is New Zealand, who has a death grip on his shoulders (it's starting to hurt, even) and his face can only be described as smiling in relief.

"You're back!"

Without thinking, New Zealand is hugging Australia, not caring about anything else other than he made it in time.

Behind them, the fairies scream in anger.

"Kiwi, what's goin' on?" says Australia as he points at them, still a bit disoriented.

New Zealand shows Australia the dagger he's holding and says:

"Just hold this with me and let's get out of here."

The fairies scream and cry to no avail, powerless to do anything else. The noise slowly fades away as the return to the old place.

Once both enter the house, they collapse onto the sofa in the living room, jetlag and exhaustion making their grand comeback.

"Can you now tell me what just happened?"

New Zealand leaves the dagger at a small table and rubs his incoming headache as he tries to think of the best way to explain everything.

"You wandered into a fairy realm and almost became trapped there forever."

"And the knife?"

"England's. It's a long story."

Australia doesn't seem satisfied with his answers, but decides to not ask any further. He takes a few deep breaths and says:

"Kiwi?"

"Yeah?

"Thanks, mate."

New Zealand smiles as both enter the world of sleep.

The next day, at noon, England arrives and finds both of them sleeping on the sofa and embracing each other.