Loo-li, lai-lay

by tamagoyakihime

With Britannia gone and the Roman Empire hot on their heels, Scotland realises that he is fighting a losing battle. What are the decisions he will make to try to keep his brothers alive; will he run or will he fight? Rated T because of one injury (and I'm paranoid). Please enjoy. :)

This story is just something that popped into my head after hearing 'sleepsong' (I recommend you listen to it. There's a really sweet video on youtube (look up 'ScotUK ~ Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay') that is what really inspired me to write this. I have been writing random crap for years now but this is my first fanfic so please be gentle with criticism. Scotland is the main character and so I decided to use Scottish Gaelic for the other characters names (apart from the Roman empire (as I couldn't find a translation for it- if anyone does know what 'Roman Empire' is in Scottish Gaelic, please tell me. J) I reckon most will be able to guess who is who but there's a guide to names and other words I threw in at the bottom just in case:

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I also do not own sleepsong. Scotland, Ireland and Wales (aside from being countries) are fan made characters and so I suppose, I don't own them either. I really wish I did, though. J

So without further ado, let the story (or fanfic) begin;

The young redhead was covered with the wounds he had taken for his siblings; knew he couldn't hold the Roman Empire back for much longer. It was a miracle in itself that he had managed to keep him at bay for so long. His head turned at the bellows of a cornu in the near distance; the Romans were close. He shifted his attention to his younger brothers; Eirinn could take care of himself if needed but A' Chuimrigh and Sasainn were too young and needed someone to take care of them. He had to make a decision and fast.

"Eirinn, pick up A' Chuimrigh- hold him tight and try not to wake him." The other red head opened his mouth to speak, "Don't ask questions; we don't have time. Be quick."

Eirinn, looked up at his big brother, his forest green eyes wide open and framed with raised bushy eyebrows, he nodded and went over to pick up the infant, holding him close to his body; careful not to smother him. Alba swallowed his fear and gave a reassuring smile to the boy. He went over to Sasainn and wrapped his adolescent arms around the toddler. He mumbled soothing noises in an attempt to keep the infant from waking.

Loo-li, Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay.

Loo-li, Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay.

The two boys fled with their precious cargo, they ran as far North as they could until they found a suitable well hidden clearing in the forest to rest in. Both boys were gasping for breath and Eirinn looked like he was about to collapse. Seeing this, Alba made sure that Sasainn was still asleep and placed him on the ground. Next, he walked over to Eirinn and gingerly took the sleeping bundle from his arms and placed him next to his twin. Eirinn, having had the only thing keeping him standing up taken from him, slumped to the ground.

Moving back over to Eirinn, who had sat up, Alba put out his hand to help Eirinn get up. "Eirinn," Alba said, leaning down so he was at eye level with the younger red head, "I need you to listen to me carefully."

Eirinn looked into his elder brothers dark green eyes, so full of sorrow and pain despite his age, "What is it, deartháir?"

"I need you to go back to your hut, the one that màthair and I built for you."

"Why can't I be with you and Bhreatain Bheag and Sasana?" Eirinn asked, "If you need me to fight, I will! I can fight!"

Alba's eyes softened, "Aye, I don't doubt that you could, but save that fire in your eyes for later; for whenever I can't protect you, for whenever you can't run anymore."

Eirinn's eyes teared up, "Y-you don't want me here, you think I w-would hold you back!"

"Wheesht lad! You know I don't think that," he grabbed the young boy's shoulders asserting a little pressure, "You're my little bràthair and I would hate to see you in harm's way. Now be quiet, or you'll wake the bairns and then I'll have more than your greetin' to deal with."

Alba sighed when the little boy chocked his sobs down. He released the boy from his grip and wiped away a solitary tear on his face. "How's abouts I sing you a wee song before you go. I don't have as good a voice as mother did or a pair of lungs like wee A' Chuimrigh but I reckon I can hold a tune."

Alba sat down cross legged and beckoned Eirinn to do the same. He let the young boy rest his head against his shoulders. He began to sing; his voice low and rough but also gentle.

"Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby,

Back to the years of Loo-li lai-lay.

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow,

Bless you with love for the road that you go"

As Alba sang, he put all his wishes for Eirinn in his words; that Eirinn would remember the old days; where he would hunt and play with Alba, that they would meet again in times where they could afford to sing each other to sleep and finally, that Eirinn's road home would be safe and filled with love.

Once he had finished, Eirinn had calmed down. The two of them sat in silence, as if a spell had been cast over them. The clatter of armour snapped Alba out of his trance. He grabbed his cloak and gave it to Eirinn, along with the most of their other supplies for the journey. "Go."

Eirinn gave his big brother a hug and ran to the West without looking back; he could feel his people calling him, no country could ever get lost on their way home; not even one as young as Eirinn.

Alba stood and watched until the red mop of hair and the oversized green cloak disappeared behind the trees. He turned to look at the twins only to be greeted by two pairs of deep green eyes staring at him. Alba sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. How much longer could he those innocent eyes from the invaders?

As if he had been waiting for him to think about him, the Roman Empire and some of his troops emerged from the trees to the South. Alba positioned himself in front of his siblings and brought out his sword. The Roman Empire raised an eyebrow and spoke in his strange language. Alba could only guess that he was asking why the teenager was trying to stop the great Rome from taking what he wanted; that it was pointless because he would lose and that it would be easier to surrender.

Alba gritted his teeth and ran towards the huge man in defiance, swinging his sword, putting all of his feelings of protecting his brothers and avenging his mother into his attack. His sword was easily parried by the giant. Alba hissed through his teeth and continued to attack, each of his attacks being blocked. An arrow came out of nowhere and struck the boy in the side. The Roman Empire's eyes widened and looked back to see which of his men had spoiled his fun.

As soon as the giant turned his head, the red head turned, grabbed his brothers and fled. Sasainn started to cry as Alba fled for their lives, through the trees, further North. A' Chuimrigh just held onto Alba's shirt in silence, taking in the scenery, calm as always. Pushing the searing pain in his side to the back of his mind, he wondered how Eirinn was fairing on his journey home.

After a while, Alba could feel the fire in his side where the arrow was still lodged become more intense, sweat had drenched his body. He would have to take a break to tend to his wounds. The adolescent came to a stop and slid down against a tree trunk, panting. He was exhausted. Gritting his teeth, he took a look at his wounds and swallowed. He couldn't fight with a wound like this. All was lost. He pulled his younger brothers in close and smiled at them; perhaps the Roman Empire wouldn't kill them. They were young and still impressionable, unlike him. He calmed down his breathing and started to sing again. To Sasainn, he sang;

"May you sail far to the far fields of fortune,

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet.

And may you need never to banish misfortune,

May you find kindness in all that you meet.

May there be angels to watch over you ,

To guide you each step of the way.

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm,

Loo-li, Loo-li, Lai-lay."

Alba wished for the boy to take advantage of Rome and to see the world, to never have to suffer too much and to most of all, be able to see the good in all of his life's encounters. He hoped that, seeing as he wouldn't be able to do so, that God would take it upon himself to send guardians to protect the young boy- Just as his mother had hoped that Alba would be able to in her stead.

Alba felt a tear trickle down his face; he was scared, not of death, but of what fate awaked his brethren. A small hand touched his cheek; only one of the two bairns was awake now, "A' Chuimrigh," Alba smiled.

Alba tried to hold back coughs as blood trickled down from his mouth. He had strength for just one more blessing and so he sang to the eldest twin;

"May you bring love and may you bring happiness,

Be loved in return to the end of your days.

Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you,

I'll sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay.

May there always be angels to watch over you,

To guide you each step of the way.

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm,

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay, Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay."

Towards the end, Alba's vision started to darken and go out of focus. He looked down and saw the two toddlers sleeping soundly in his arms. Praying that his hopes for A' Chuimrigh would also be answered; that he would know peace and know what it is to love and to be loved, he closed his eyes and let himself fall into the darkness knowing he could do no more for his brothers.

The Roman Empire walked onto the scene. Turning around, he saw the eldest of Britannia's sons slumped against a tree, blood leaking from his side and trickling from his mouth. His eyes closed. The boy was definitely unconscious but what struck the Roman Empire was the satisfied smile that rested on the boy's face.

The two younger ones rested, one in each of his arms. A tear streaked face to the left and a clear and calm face to the right. The Roman Empire marvelled at how far the eldest had managed to get them. He bent down to pick up twin to the left. Sasainn stirred in his sleep as he was being picked up but did not wake. As the Roman Empire went to retrieve A' Chuimrigh, his eyes were met by a young pair of eyes glaring at him. The Roman Empire chucked as he picked up the little boy; this one would give him some problems. He walked away with the twins, leaving the bleeding body behind. If the fates would have the boy live, the Roman Empire wouldn't stop them. The boy had fought enough for his chance to live.

Scotland opened his eyes and surveyed the room and the people in it before him. His brothers and their bosses were all there to witness his becoming independent. There was Ireland who had never been taken by the Roman Empire and who had returned to see his brother. The two shared so much, be it legends, songs, similar distaste for a certain grumpy blonde sat opposite. He chuckled; his hopes that Ireland would be loved and accepted wherever he went had partly came true (at least where a pub was involved).

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay,

And Wales, who was loved by his brothers for his singing voice that could bring a grown man to tears and for his constant complaining about inconsequential things, he always found time to say something witty and was always able to calm his brothers down- no matter what the problem.

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay,

Then there was England, who had made out that he didn't care if Scotland left or not, who had always been on the receiving end of his brother's jokes and pranks, who had, despite all that, tried his best to give himself and his brothers a name; the great British Empire and who had failed and resigned himself to being the gentleman of the world, trying to keep up with the bigger and stronger countries of the world. England; his little brother. England noticed Scotland staring at him and glared back, his thick, black eyebrows furrowed. Scotland smirked, just to annoy him and turned to the all-important sheet of paper laying in front of him. He picked up the pen

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay,

Drawing in a breath, he signed the paper in front of him and placed the pen on the table.

Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay,

Scotland closed his eyes and sighed once he had made it home sometime later. He let himself fall onto his couch. He may be independent but that didn't mean he would stop looking out for his brothers. He let himself fall into a deep sleep filled with dreams of four children and a beautiful woman playing in the forest; their care free laughter ringing across the land. A small smile formed on the sleeping Scotsman's face; a smile that if a certain Roman were to see, he would swear it was the smile of the boy in the forest that had just lost everything but looked as though he had gained everything.

Loo-li, lai-lay

Long live Google translate, 'copy', 'paste' and Hetalia (of course).

Scottish Gaelic Irish Gaelic

Alba: Scotland Sasana: England

Eirinn: Ireland Bhreatain Bheag: Wales

Sasainn: England deartháir: Brother

A' Chuimrigh: Wales

Màthair: Mother

Bràthair: Brother

I also used some Scots (I am Scottish but suck at writing in Scots and find some people's attempts at it illegible despite the fact that I speak it (and that's when you know there's a problem XD) so I refrained from using copious amounts of it for Scotland's dialogue. It makes my life and your life easier; trust me. Anyhoo, here is a quick dictionary type thing for those of you who are not familiar with Scottish colloquies.

Wheesht: Shh!

Bairn: Child

Greetin': Crying