Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters but if I did Ireland would be in it and she would be kickass.

EDIT 29/11/2014: Going through all this again and correcting any mistakes I made or any layout issues that annoy me now and honestly, I can't believe I let so many remain in this fic for so long o.o
Ok so there should be a new chapter in the next 3 days or so. It's almost finished just needs editing and possibly a rewrite in one or two areas.

The ship bustled with energy as the sailors prepared to bring it into dock. Commands were being shouted left right and centre as they neared the coast. Ireland leant on the railing watching the coast draw nearer, she was excited, no excitement was an understatement. She was ecstatic to finally be able to see the new world. She had heard of all the adventures and treasures that could be found in this land of promise and she was happy that she had finally convinced England to let her go.

The men on the deck were loud, annoyingly so. Normally Ireland was used to such noise but today with a very bad hangover she just wanted to beat them all senseless and throw them overboard. She didn't even remember drinking that much, but here she was leaning on the railing trying not to lose her balance and fall straight into the Atlantic Ocean. She had lost track of how long she was at sea and until she saw the shore how long was left before she finally made it to America, excitement bubbled in her stomach at the thought. A new world to explore and new opportunities to be had. It was everything she had dreamed of and hopefully she could gain enough influence to break free and once again become a warrior nation. She smiled at the thought until her headache returned and with it that horrible sick feeling pitted in her stomach forcing her to throw her head over the railing as she violently threw up. Fuck she thought, this was not how she wanted to spend the day. Eventually she found enough strength to look up again and was amazed to see how close the land was. She made it, she finally made it to America and the new land she hoped held all the answers to her prayers. Lost in her daydream she failed to notice a man walk up behind her. With a loud slap he clasped his large calloused hand onto Irelands shoulder causing her to jump at the contact before throwing a stream of curses in both English and Irish at the newcomer.

"Calm down," the newcomer soothed, his emerald eyes twinkling under his huge untamed eyebrows. He grinned widely as he watched her get angrier at him and try to free herself from his grip thoroughly amused at her weak efforts and how red her face was becoming.

"What's the matter Ireland? Feeling a little under the weather?" he teased already aware of Irelands excruciating hangover.

Ireland glared at him; everything about him in that moment annoyed her, from his wild, short flaming hair to his overbearing presence as he towered over her pulling her into a very tight one armed hug as he started laughing like a lunatic. There weren't many times since she boarded the ship that she felt a burning desire to throw someone overboard but this was one of those times. "Scotland let me go," she hissed trying to break his hold. However this only encouraged him further and he held her even closer.

"Aww lass how can I let ye go now when you look so bad?" he asked still grinning mischievously down at her. At this Ireland just glared at the coast, anger eating at her.

He was right she did look bad. Her normally bouncy copper locks now hung limp around her face and down her shoulders, her skin although naturally pale and freckled was now tinged with a horrible sickly green and her eyes were dull like a murky pool full of algae instead of their usual vivid grass green. She lacked her normal energy and currently just felt annoyed, sick and weak. She hated hangovers for this reason alone and knew her "friends" would be a pain if they found her hungover. Which unfortunately for her was the case right now, oh how she wanted to escape and go back to bed.

"Scotland seriously fuck off and leave me alone, I am not in the mood for this shit right now," Ireland almost screamed at him and eventually he let her go.

Glad to be free of his grip Ireland spun quickly on her heel and made to leave for her cabin but a sudden jerk of the ship made her stomach churn and she had to run back to the side and almost threw herself overboard as she got sick. This really is not my day she thought to herself. Grimacing Scotland cleared his throat and walked up beside her moving his hand to pat her on the back.

"Look if ye want we can go get breakfast and that might sort out the hangover," he offered now looking genuinely concerned for his friend. Scotland had seen Ireland hungover but she never had to run to get sick and that worried him. She pushed his hand off and slowly lifted herself off the railing once again before nodding and moving towards the mess hall.

"Next time lad, don't swap the good stuff with the piss you wouldn't use for wounds," he muttered to himself as he recalled the drinking competition Ireland and him had gotten into last night.

They were once again matching drink for drink and it was clear Ireland had a slight lead on him and was starting to get obnoxious again as she always did when she drank too much, this time though Scotland had a plan. He had arranged for some of the cabin boys to swap Irelands drink for the cheap alcohol that had no real purpose apart from taking up space under deck. Within half an hour Ireland was out for the count and had to be carried back to her cabin and Scotland felt like the king of the world, now though watching his friend struggle to walk without having to run to the railing to get sick, he felt like scum. Winning was important to Scotland but not if it meant watching his friends suffer. Snapping out of his daydream he ran forward and put Irelands arm around his should to steady her. At only five feet five, Ireland was a lot shorter than the six feet two man, helping her was awkward but eventually they shuffled into the mess hall and Scotland went to get them "the world's best hangover cure" as he cheerfully put it.

Returning he almost threw the two plates piled high with bacon, sausages, eggs, black and white pudding, potato bread and mushrooms in front of Ireland. It was a greasy, heart attack inducing mess but Ireland woke up on seeing it and immediately started eating, soon her hangover was forgotten as she sat back gazing lazily at the ceiling. After a pleasant silence they eventually started talking about what they were going to do once they got to shore and about their next big prank they had to pull on England. It had become a tradition for them to pull the biggest prank they could imagine on the empire once they were introduced to a new colony and America was set to be the stage of their biggest prank yet.

Suddenly a call came from above deck alerting them to the fact that they were soon to dock. Rushing to their feet they raced to the deck and stared out at the dock. It was bustling with activity and they both wanted to jump into all the activity straight away, but as the ship was yet to dock they were stuck for at least another thirty minutes or so.

"Hey, I'll race ye to the shore," Scotland suddenly said.

"What are ya on about wee boy?" Ireland replied not looking at him her eyes searching the shore for any sight of England the boy they were supposed to be meeting.

"If you win, I'll wear one of those dresses my wee brother seems so fond of making you wear. If I win, you have to wear them for a week and not yer normal trousers and jacket uniform, and I tell everyone what happened two weeks ago," Scotland challenged his voice full of confidence, he knew she wouldn't be able to resist and kitted out in her normal black riding trousers and sapphire blue jacket with a white shirt underneath he knew she couldn't separate from them either.

Shocked, Ireland spun around to stare at him when she noticed he was sitting on the railing, his legs dangling over the edge as he watched her carefully, mocking her, teasing her and tempting her to take the bait.

"Those dresses are rotten, and I swear to God if you tell anyone what happened we are both going to be in so much trouble," she warned him. As tempting as it was to take up the bait and see Scotland in one of those horrifying dresses England insisted she wore, she couldn't risk anyone finding out about 'that'.

"Naw lass, yer taking up the bet cause ye really want to see me in a dress," he retorted then winked as he jumped overboard diving less than gracefully into the water.

Swearing, Ireland climbed over the railing and followed him in a more graceful dive. Surfacing she looked around and heard the men onboard starting to panic as they saw both her and Scotland in the water, ignoring them she turned to see he had already started swimming towards the coast. Splashing her fist into the water she took off like lightning to try and beat the stubborn man and hopefully keep 'that' a secret.

Scotland thought that he had won as he looked around and failed to see Ireland behind him and considering she was not in front of him he thought she never jumped in. That was until he felt a hand grasp his ankle and pull him under. Desperately trying to stay above water he tried in vain to kick off the hand that was now firmly clamped and refusing to move. With a final splash he sank under the water for a few seconds and was greeted by Ireland's very bright smile before she turned and continued on her way to the port.

Dazed, Scotland let himself float to the surface as he remembered Ireland was a better swimmer than him and was one of the few crazy enough to take him up on one of his bets. Cursing he raced forward after Ireland hoping against hope that he would catch up with her but as soon as he thought he was in with a chance, Ireland reached the docks and pulled herself out of the water, laughing at Scotland and pondering loudly "how fine a woman" he will make. She was collapsed on the wood when Scotland made it and instantly Scotland reached up and grabbed Irelands wrist and pulled her straight back into the water. Unable to stop laughing Ireland teased him about how pretty he will look and how he will need to find a good husband to support him now. Trying his hardest not to give into her infectious laughter, Scotland splashed her forcing her into silence for a few seconds. Shocked, Ireland stared at him before bursting out laughing again and starting to splash him. They eventually broke out into fits of giggles as they splashed each other and fought in the water until a loud reprimanding voice sounded from the dock above them.

Stopping they slowly looked up and saw England looking down at them, thoroughly annoyed with what was in front of him. "Ah wee boy, glad you could make it. Scotland here was just saying how much he admired the dresses you sent over for me and he was wondering if he could get some," Ireland called cheerfully when she was suddenly hit with a huge wave as Scotland tried to get her to stop talking.

"What she was saying was that I thought they were a lovely gift for Ireland and very well thought out. I guess my babe of a brother is just good with ladies clothes", Scotland shouted up at him while reaching forward and covering Ireland's mouth to stop her talking.

England still in slight awe of what was happening in front of him just stood there before clearing his throat and moving forward to the edge a bit, "Why might I ask are you both in the water and the ship is still yet to dock?" he asked.

"Cause I couldn't wait to see my darling little brother and I just happened to provide the right incentive to get Ireland to come along," Scotland said in mock affection blinking up innocently at England who was now looking like he was going to hit someone, namely Scotland. "AAH!" Scotland shouted suddenly letting Ireland go and looking at his hand, blood seeping out of a cut, "she bit me."

Swimming free Ireland got closer to the edge of the dock and reached out her hand and asked if England could help her up. England stared at her hand for a few seconds before taking it, Ireland seized that opportunity to pull him into the water with a loud splash causing Scotland to almost sink because he was laughing so hard. Clambering to the surface England tried swimming for the dock but realised he was too far away, panicking he tried shouting for help when he started sinking under the water and he felt two hands reach down and pull him up. Shocked, he looked to his sides and saw both Ireland and Scotland helping him back onto the dock both still chuckling under their breaths at his misfortune.

Horrified at what they did he scrambled from the water's edge as fast as he could, stumbling slightly on the wet wood.

"You bastards! How dare you throw me in the water when you both know I can't swim, do you want me to drown?" he shouted at them both, his dirty blond hair dripping with water and plastered to his head, his emerald eyes wide with fear and anger.

Scotland and Ireland pulled themselves to their feet and they both looked at each other feeling slightly guilty but still finding it very amusing.

"Arthur it was a joke and you knew we weren't gonna let ye drown lad," Scotland answered.

England was furious now and his face had turned a tomato red, he wanted nothing more than to throw them in prison cells and be done with it, but he couldn't one was his brother and the other his wife.

"Aye Arthur ye need to relax a bit and possibly learn how to swim, we can't be there to save you all the time," Ireland said trying to calm him down and make him see some sense.

"No, if it wasn't for you bloody idiots then I would never even be put in danger of drowning. Everytime I am out of my depth in water it's all thanks to you two," he spat at them.

Looking at each other Scotland and Ireland failed to come up with an answer and they then realised that they were slowly being surrounded by England's guards.

Clearing her throat Ireland stood closer to England who flinched and instinctively took a step back she held up her hands in a surrender motion and looked him in the eyes, "It was stupid to do that, we're eejits Arthur and we're sorry. It won't happen again." she told him, hoping it would keep his guards away for a bit longer. She glanced at Scotland silently begging he would get the hint and apologise too.

"Aye Arthur, we were idiots and shouldn't have done that, sorry" he mumbled into his fist but loud enough that England could hear it.

Glaring at them England turned and motioned for them to follow and started explaining what they were going to be doing whilst in America. Neither of them listened though as they were caught up in their own thoughts and their grins returned as they looked around and realised how much they could benefit from this endeavour into the new world. Ireland took that opportunity to try and pull her hair back from her face and tie it into a ponytail with a ribbon, but failing miserably as the frizz brought out by the water refused to be tamed. Huffing she gave up and consigned herself to having a very frizzy and very annoying hairstyle for the rest of them day.

"So, when are we supposed to meet the wee lad himself?" Scotland asked breaking the silence that had fallen between them as they walked through the docks. "Soon," England answered still fuming from the earlier events "and if either of you two do anything unnecessary I will oof..." he was cut off by a loud shout from a child and then thrown to the ground in a flurry of white and blue.

Chapter end

Cliffhanger, well not really I'm assuming everyone can guess what is going to happen next. I am leaving it here for now cause I was working on this at a retardedly early or late hour (depending on how you look at it) because I suddenly managed to get past a really bad case of writers block and had to write it straight away.

Any constructive criticism would be great and if anyone sees any typos or areas were it gets muddled or unclear please point them out so I can fix it. Also reviews would be great and I will get to America and more insanity in the next chapter. I just wanted to define Scotland and Ireland a bit so they can stand up to the awesome America and England and not play second fiddle.