Chapter 1

Arthur Kirkland opened the door to his house, leaning his hand on the wall. He was drunk. Dizziness made orientation on his own territory quite difficult, but he somehow manage to find the way to his living room. He was too drunk to change his cloths to pajamas and get into his own bed, so he just fallen on the sofa. When his head lied on the sofa's back, his dizziness became less intensive.

Arthur sighed deeply and sadly, trying to fall asleep. It wouldn't be difficult, if he was just drunk, nothing else, but he also felt really upset. This feeling was the reason he got drunk in first place. Moreover, everything around couldn't help him stop feeling like that. His magical friends tried to cheer him up as always, but this time it wasn't that simple as they imagined – "It will be fine" or "Don't worry" didn't worked this time. Damn it, even alcohol didn't worked at all, even when Arthur drank five bottles of Scotch!

The memories, that were invading him on and on, were breaking him down even more. Memories of little, lonely him, bullied all the time by his older brothers. Memories of pirate him, when he was hurting Antonio. Memories of Francis, cruelly making fun of him – Arthur. Memories of Alfred claiming independence. Memories of Peter, calling his older brother jerk. And he couldn't resist the impression that, indeed, nobody liked Englishmen. Because England was recollecting on and on his mistakes, he thought about himself as a loser. A friendless loser, how France could say about him.

His tired, sad eyes barely saw in the darkness of living room movement. He focused on it more and soon he realized that upon him was hanged in the air certain fairy. The beautiful butterfly wings and violet dress was too familiar for him to mistake her with any other fairy. Arthur was sure, in daylight he would see pretty girl with alabaster skin, long, honey hair and deep, violet eyes.

"Vivien…" He whispered with light smile, but then rapidly saddened. "I'm sorry, that you have to see me in this horrible state right now."

She flew down to him, to land on his belly. Now, when England looked at her closer, he could see the concern expression on her face. And it made him confused.

"Oh, Arthur… You were drinking." She finally spoke with this soft, worried voice of hers. "So this is that bad?"

England bit his lip and looked at the fairy like he was going to cry.

"Yeah…"

"Oh, you will kill yourself." She said and started to walk on his belly to the face.

"Well then, I will do it." Was Arthur's answer. "I've lost all the will to live, Vivien. I'm alone, completely alone."

"No, you don't. You have us. We were with you, since you were baby. A very cute baby." She added, making England smile for a moment, but then he once again grimed.

"Look, Vivien, I appreciate everything you all have done for me." He smiled to her. "I always knew, I can count on you, guys." Suddenly he once again seemed to be near to cry. "But you don't understand it. I'm talking about international arena, about countries." His eyes shined in the darkness and Vivien was sure, it was tears. Soon two strains ran down his cheeks. "All around the world I'm hated. I don't blame them. I've made a lot of bad things to them." He put his gaze up and smiled with acrimony to fairy. Then he said with shaking voice: "Look at me, I'm crying because nobody likes me. How pathetic…"

"Arthur…" She whispered with worry. "You're not pathetic. You're graceful nation with wonderful culture."

"I'm the king of losing things. Pathetic ex-empire."

"You're not thinking clearly. It's alcohol that's talking thorough you."

Right after she said it, she came closer to his cheek and kissed it. It felt like some warm bee's wings had gently stroked his hot and wet cheek. Vivien flew a bit above him and he suddenly felt horribly exhausted. His heavy eyes closed. Before he had fallen asleep, he heard Vivien's soft whisper:

"Goodnight, Arthur."

He was standing in the middle of the foggy, unknown field. He was alone and scared. Around him was only fog – thick, grey fog – and silence. It was terribly quiet, like on graveyard. Little boy, standing in this scary place, curled his arms to his chest and nervously looked around, as if he suspect to see someone – maybe friend, maybe foe, but someone. But all he could see was this fog.

"Mommy!" He called. "Mommy, where are you?!"

No response.

"Scotland? Wales? Ireland?"

Once again – only silence. He was alone after all. Nobody was here to help him find the way. His close ones abandoned him here for great trial. He knew, he supposed to be brave. His mother said, he have to find the way to home on his own. She left him here to make him strong like his big brothers.

But he was too scared to even move from his spot. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. His quiet whimpers barely echoed through the fog, when he sat on the cold ground and curled himself. He buried face in his knees and cried from the bottom of his heart. How he will find the way home? How he will manage to get there without food?

"Mommy… Brothers…" He was whispering to himself. "I… I can't…"

He imagined his older brothers, who were always making fun of him. If they were here right now, they would probably laugh about how he was such crybaby. And they probably would say something about monsters that was hiding under the fog. England shivered because of this thought.

"Somebody help me." He cried quietly. "Mommy, please, come here."

"Nobody will help you… Arthur." Someone's teasing voice echoed from nowhere. "You will be alone. Because you are friendless England."

Arthur's heart squeezed in his chest.

"Who… who are you?" Scared put up his gaze.

"You will be alone, England. Every alliance, you'll make, will break apart. Every country, you will love, will abandon you. When you'll grow up and become stronger, you'll be hurting everyone, so everyone will be hurting you. Everybody will hate you."

"Why?" He whispered with despair, but then he yelled: "Why?!"

"It's your fate, England. Your destiny. Take it."

"I don't want fate like this!"

Voice laughed.

"But your fate can't be changed, my little one. Farewell, Arthur Kirkland. Farewell, England."

Arthur felt rapid blow of the wind and soon he realized that person, which owned this voice, was gone. He was once again alone. And when he thought he was lost forever, he saw in the fog the outline of some little horse. When boy looked at this horse, which was slowly approaching him, he suddenly discovered weird pointy thing on its forehead…

The rain outside was pounding harshly at the glass of window. Arthur was sitting at his desk and just glaring sadly at the space before him. All his energy faded away with his joy of life. He didn't want to do anything. He just let his mind recall all this painful memories and he drown in it. He hadn't came out of his house and didn't care about the outside world anymore, since the same world was hating him. Also he didn't ate much. He felt old – horribly old and unwanted. And for the first time in his long existence, he wanted to die.

So in the end he drew out from the shelf of his desk few sheets of paper and pen and started to writing…

Author's Note:

Well, the idea of Vivien was in my head since I've read the chapter "Mister Unicorn" in "Arthur's Phrases". I tell, I was planning to make her the only magical creature, which can be seen by America!

Now for something comepletely different - in the first place it supposed to be oneshot, but since I'm going on the vacation tommorow and I didn't want to write this in one day, I've decided to make it two- or even more-shot.