Yay for my sudden Hetalia obsession and my first USUK fanfic! This is my first time attempting something such as this ("this" referring to a dark, sort of twisted story). Rated T for now, probably rated M later on.
To try and avoid confusion, the reason Alice wonders in the beginning, "Did this really come from that boy?" was because the old, abandoned house they were exploring was rumored to have housed a young boy who was the servant of the devil back in 1804. He vanished shortly after this rumor began to circle around, leaving behind only the house and a few items here and there.
NOTE: The two characters in the beginning are indeed OCs. I'll try not to make them annoying, but they were necessary to get this story started. This idea was not inspired by anything but my English teacher's daily writing prompts. It started with "star gazing" and escalated from there…I have no idea where this story will end up ultimately going, but if you like it, you can thank my wonderful teacher for inspiring me!
London, England. October 19th, 1856.
The drab, gray-painted walls were covered in what, at a first glance, appeared to be the artwork of a small toddler. Looking around the room, it was hard to believe that a child would indeed live here. There were a few scattered items that proved adolescent life did at least visit, but a few small finger paintings on the wall were not enough decoration to properly address the natural buoyant personality most young children had.
I sighed as I approached the oldest little painting, setting my lantern down beside me as I kneeled. It was done in surprisingly thin and clean black strokes, and appeared to be a little star encircled by some scribbling I couldn't quite make out properly.
"Did this really come from that boy? Those stories may be true then…" I mumbled quietly to myself, not wishing to disturb the serenity that the abandoned house contained.
"Of course those stories are true, you twat," my dear friend and lover Sean whispered from behind me. "This old house is cursed, I'm telling you. Let's get out of here, now!"
"You go on ahead," I responded with a little wink and a cheerful smile. "I'll stay a while longer."
"I'm not about to leave and let you get eaten by a demon, or some evil spirit, or…or whatever else may be here." Sean firmly gazed into my eyes; unswerving loyalty and love clear as the full moon on a cloudless night shone brightly in his irises. "I'm staying with you, even if I do get dragged into some demonic mess with you."
"Come now, it won't be too bad," I reassured him with a goofy grin. "It's not like we're asking for trouble, we're just researching. What could possibly happen?"
Just as those words came out of my mouth, the little black drawing began to glow a vibrant purple, releasing a soft humming that chilled me to the bone, yet soothed me at the same time. I felt an otherworldly sort of energy flow out, and, curiously, rested my hand in the center of the circle. My vision instantly went black, but I was still very much conscious; instead of staying blind, I saw a young boy, about 6-years-old, sitting in a similarly drab room on a lovely, clear night.
He was a frail looking child, but his emerald eyes held a hidden fire that showed he was much stronger than he appeared. His choppy blond bangs fell around his bushy eyebrows attractively, and his lips mumbled words I could not hear. For some reason, I felt a strange sense of maternal instinct surge through me at the sight of him.
"Oh, poppet…you're so beautiful," I heard myself whisper.
As if he could hear me, he stared right at me and smiled: a loving, beaming smile that made me grin out of sheer joy. He walked over happily, and kneeled in front of me.
"You're the first one who hasn't been scared," he mused in an adorable voice. He was clearly English, like me, which made my grin wider if that were even possible.
He tugged on his coat sleeve shyly as he asked, "Are you…m-my mother?"
My heart nearly broke at the sad, hesitant tone in his voice. I wanted to just hold him and soothingly rub his back, like my mother did to me.
"I don't think I am biologically," I answered truthfully. "But, dammit, if it's a mother you want, then I'll be your mother."
His smile returned full-heartedly. "Can I…come live with you? Or would you rather come live with me?"
"Whatever makes you happy, love."
He nodded. "I'll come to see you soon! Don't forget, okay?"
I chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it."
He grinned as my vision faded black again, and then returned to see Sean shaking me furiously by the shoulders, yelling my name.
"Alice! Snap out of it!"
I grabbed his wrist gently. "I'm here, Sean."
He stopped shaking me and pulled me into his arms, sniffling and burrowing his head into my neck. I wrapped my arms around him and ran my hands along his back, whispering soothing little things.
"I-I thought I was going to lose you…" he choked out through little sobs.
"You'll never lose me, love." I held him tighter as if to confirm this. "In fact, I have something incredible to tell you."
"Wh-what?" His curiosity overcame his sorrow as he peered up at me.
I gave him a beaming smile, and told him, "We're having a child."
Oxford, England. October 21st, 1856.
"You're telling me a little boy is going to appear on our doorstep, insisting you're his mother?"
"I am his mother," I reminded him with a frown. "Not biologically, but I already feel a strong maternal bond with him nonetheless."
"You've gone mad," Sean stated matter-of-factly. "You had a delusion, and I'll bet it was because of that demonic spirit I sensed in the house!"
I sighed, because Sean was once again transitioning from the calm, sweet lover I called my husband to the church-loving fool I hated to be around. I didn't have anything against the church, but dammit all, if I wanted to believe the vision of that beautiful blond boy, then so be it!
Just as I was about to make a rebuttal, there was a knock on the door. I rushed over and answered it quickly, only to have my heart fill with joy. Standing right before me was the little boy, still looking practically angelic, his big green eyes overflowing with bright happiness. I immediately scooped him up in my arms, cuddling him as his legs gently curled around my waist.
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you, poppet," I cooed sweetly. "What's your name?"
"Arthur," he said in that adorable little voice.
I carried him over to Sean, smirking victoriously. The look of absolute disbelief he had was priceless.
"There's no possible way…he's not our son!" he roared.
Arthur's eyes began to fill with tears. I ran a hand through his hair and soothed him.
"Don't you mind daddy. He's just a little cranky."
"O-okay, mommy." Arthur rubbed at his eyes. "Can I sleep?"
I nodded and carried him to our small guest room, despite Sean's protests. I lay him down on the bed and tucked him in, giving his forehead a loving kiss. As I was about to leave, he grabbed my dress sleeve. I looked back at him, seeing an evil little glint in his eye.
"You'll love me no matter what, right mommy?" he asked, his adorable tone abandoned for one of clearly dark intentions.
I sat beside him on the bed, caressing his hair. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that he had evil intentions, but I still couldn't help but let that wonderful motherly instinct of protectiveness control my actions.
"I'll always love you, Artie," I assured him. "No matter what daddy thinks, you'll always be special to me. But listen to me: don't hurt anyone. Ever."
His lips curled into a small pout but he nodded.
"Okay…but only because you'll always be there for me."
"Good boy. Now get some sleep, love."
Arthur nodded and lay back once more, curling up sweetly. I stood once more and walked out to see Sean waiting there. A deep frown graced his features, but I saw that little forgiving and accepting quirk in his eyes that he had whenever I won an argument. I smiled and pecked his lips.
"You'll love him, I promise you."
"I'll love him because you do."
Arthur listened to the conversation between his new parents with a little smirk. He couldn't have been more pleased with how this had turned out. The woman was actually smitten with him without him having to use anything but his natural charm. To add to his good fortune, she also looked quite a bit like him, sharing his blonde hair and having hazel eyes. He liked her: he wouldn't dare hurt his new mommy. But the father…
Arthur frowned as he thought about how to get on his good side. He had at least agreed to keep him, that was a big enough battle to win for now. But if he had any chance of pursuing what he wished, he would have to earn his good graces. Perhaps a little mishap, in which Arthur emerged the savior…
The blond fell asleep with a devilish little smile, plotting even in his dreams.
Well, there you have it! Not the most exciting thing ever, and a little confusing, but a prologue's gotta get some information established. I only wrote from Alice's point of view so that I could better explain why she had taken to Arthur so easily.
I'll try to answer any questions as best as I can, but you may just have to wait for later on in the story to understand certain things. Thanks for reading. 3