Confined Beauty
Heya world! I don't own Hetalia or Britain, I own my OC that I haven't named yet.
-Chapter 1: The Discovery-
Arthur walked through the snowy mountains, just a child and his imagination at this time.
The cold air chilled him, but also made him excited, unaware of what to expect as he explored.
Such a strange sight would baffle anyone, for who knew that such a small child would have such energy?
As he walked, he laughed, thinking aloud his thoughts, and to his magical friends.
"Isn't this great, guys? I get all this land, all to myself, it's so amazing!"
The beings agreed with him silently, and suddenly disappeared.
Something was wrong.
Arthur looked around, confused, and saw an ever-growing, but still incredibly small, patch of crimson from a distance on the foot of a hill.
He felt an ominous chill when he spotted said patch, for he knew the crimson meant only one thing.
Blood, death, injury…
Things he hated so.
He began running toward the impure snow and saw the small figure of a mythical being he'd not encountered yet.
He just didn't know it.
"E-excuse me…" He said softly, worriedly, looking at the being's soft, snow-pale face.
It seemed as though she was some slight shade away from the snow itself.
Her lips were an icy rose color, as was the blush that donned her ghost-like face.
Her eyes were shut closed, and she was…so very small…
No, not as small as a fairy, but not as big as me, either… Arthur pondered, and when he earned no response from the snowy being, he gently began searching her for wounds.
Soon he found a large slit on her side, and many smaller, but equally as deep ones on her legs and arms.
"W-what happened?" He asked himself softly, and gently lifted the being up.
The magical beings returned to him, and looked at the snowy girl in awe.
"What is it, guys?" Arthur questioned curiously.
"Arthur…that girl…she is one of your kind…yet, she is not…" A fairy floating to Arthur's right said softly.
Arthur was baffled, but took her to his small cottage nearby anyway; he set her on the rug in front of the fire place, and went to start making her some scones.
When he returned, finally happy with the way the pastries had turned out, she was gone.
She'd stained his rug with her blood, and vanished…
Or so he thought.