A Rather Silly AU Fic

A/N – What is this I don't even – Just – Just humour me and read it. I have no idea why I wanted to write this, but I did. And I think I'll keep writing it, even though it's completely ridiculous, because it's fun and I don't really have to think too much while writing it (you can probably tell that I was half-asleep writing most of this.)

On the other hand, if you like it, that's great!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Everything originated in Korea, but I guess you could say Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Who isn't me.

Chapter 1 – Advice

The little rural village of East was, to all intents and purposes, a very ordinary place. The people who lived there were decent, stable types; the history of the place was extraordinary uneventful, and even the scenery seemed to be at peace with itself and the rest of the world. At this point in the description, most writers would assure you that East was the most unlikely place in this particular universe for a story to begin. However, since the story clearly is beginning here, it would be pointless to try and trick you by claiming that it isn't, especially since this is a fanfiction and you're probably just reading this in the vague hope that one of your favourite pairings will turn up.

At any rate, there was actually a point to this little bit of scene-setting; it was, in fact, designed to introduce you, the audience, to the main character, who you are almost certainly already familiar with, since you probably got here by searching for fanfiction involving him. It was none other than an Alternative Universe version of everyone's favourite crossdresser, Poland! – Who in this continuum, happened to be a simple farm boy. This isn't to say that he didn't don the occasional dress when he felt like it. I mean, even simple farm boys still like to feel pretty sometimes. But that's not the point.

Anyway, our story began on a warm summer's evening, when, just as Poland was beginning to sort of maybe consider going to bed, a man dressed in what appeared to be a white toga materialised in front of him.

Poland almost choked on his own exclamations of shock.

"What – what are you – how did you -" he managed to stutter. The figure in the toga sighed, folding a pair of feathery wings behind his back.

"Calm down and listen to what I have to tell you. Honestly, the way some people react to magic these days. It's not like it's at all uncommon around here."

"Normally people don't just, like, warp into existence in other peoples' living rooms!" protested Poland. The ghost, or fairy, or whatever-he-was shrugged.

"I guess it is bad form, but the truth is, I'm not at all normal, and neither are you. Poland, I'm your fairy godfather, and I have a task for you." Poland folded his arms.

"So… You're my fairy godfather or something, right?"

"Yes, I just said that."

"So, aren't you meant to, like, protect me?"

"Protect and advise, yes."

"Then why did you just barge into my house and start telling me what to do?" demanded the farmhand.

"It's in your own best interests," said the fairy shortly. "Now, shut up and listen to me. I didn't ask to be your godfather, and frankly, I'm working overtime to deliver this message to you, so I don't want to have to repeat myself. Poland, I'm sure you're aware that the King has decided to give out knighthoods to anyone, commoner or otherwise, who can win the top place in the official Chivalry Cup that began recently?" Poland rolled his eyes.

"Everyone knows that."

"Yes. Well, anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that you yourself could compete in the Cup if you wanted to."

"But I don't want to."

"But you should."

"Why?"

"Because it would be a good experience, and because I say so and I am your fairy godfather and I know best," snapped the fairy.

"You're pretty grouchy for a magical helper," observed Poland. His godfather sighed deeply.

"Look, I'm just going to take it for granted that you'll follow my advice and start your journey sometime tomorrow, OK?" The edges of his form began to glow with white light.

"Wait a second!" shouted Poland, jumping to his feet. The fairy stopped disappearing for a moment to fold his arms and glare.

"What?"

"If you're my fairy godfather, you should tell me your name so I can call for you when I need help," said Poland. "Isn't that what your kind normally do?"

"Oh, great. Just what I need; some idiot calling me up every other minute," retorted the fairy. "Well, if you must know, my name is England. Use it wisely," he added, and vanished, leaving our protagonist with a rather odd sense of vertigo; almost as if his entire world had been tipped on its head, never to be the same again.

Of course, it had.