So I said I'd be doing a Pirate!England story. This one is a bit cute rather than serious.
The inspiration for this came from when I was watching Muppet's Treasure Island and the song Professional Pirate came on. I resisted to jump up and yell, "I have seen THAT man in drag!" As I resisted, I thought, "Wow, this would be an interesting way for England to explain his job to little baby America." So, This is pretty much going through the lyrics.
Hetalia belongs to Himaruya
Muppet's Treasure Island directed by Brian Henson
Professional Pirate written by Hans Zimmer and sung by Tim Curry
When America had asked him the question, the scene froze. His mouth hung open, and the crew, or, at least the ones that had followed him onto the land looked away and decided to stay out of the situation.
Little America had finally gotten curious as to why his guardian disappeared for months on end and asked, "Why do you leave me England?"
"Well America," the boy was just so precious, still unable to pronounce his name properly, "it's my job. Who else is supposed to keep the frog and Spaniard in line?"
The boy held onto England's tall boots, swaying back and forth. He could walk and run but standing still made the boy a bit wobbly. "What's your job?"
Shit. The boy was inquisitive. He couldn't just tell America he was a Pirate. He would never understand and probably not ever wish to speak with him. He'd been told many horror stories about "Sea Barbarians" and "Men of Low Morals". He would have to dazzle the child and make up the rest as he went along. "America you see, when I was just a lad, looking for my true vocation, my brother said to me, "Now England this choice deservers deliberation. Though you could be a doctor, or perhaps a financer, Brother, why not consider a more challenging career?" Though, of course, at the time, I was just a bit older than you my boy, even if it was centuries ago, Scotland was suggesting I heard sheep."
"Did you really have sheep England?" America's eyes sparkled at the thought of his guardian nation running around with the fluffy creatures.
The British man chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair, "Why yes I did, lad. But, I left them when the sea called. It called me to be a pirate." There it went. Now he'd have to see how the boy reacted.
Pirate. The world rolled through the toddler's brain. "What do you do as a pirate England?"
Oh! He was too cute! But could he really tell a "five year old", as that was what his physical body showed, that he murdered, pillaged, drank, and had forsaken the name of God? No. He looked to the few crew members that he'd brought along with him and they seemed to get the message.
"Well," one man began, "you cruise to foreign shores."
A second chimed in, "And you keep your mind and body out of doors!" he winked and England knew exactly what he was alluding to. England huffed but decided that making a commotion would not be the best thing in front of Little America.
He noted to throw in some extra soup for those two men for that evening's meal. "You see lad. It's friendship and adventure! Those are the things we just can't live without. So when you're a pirate, that's what this job is about."
He couldn't believe the lies he was rolling off. To a child no less! How entirely improper of him!
Mystified, America snatched at England's baggy pant. He'd suddenly become overthrown by worry for his guardian, "But England," he paused to catch his breath, "what about the posters that say they want you captured?"
"Um, well, Now take Sir Francis Drake," he chose the man from off the top of his head, "you do know who that is right?"
Soft, blond hair bounced as America nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, the Spanish all despised him. Though to us British, he's a hero and we idolize him. You see America, it's how you look at buccaneers that makes us bad or good, and well, I chose to see us as members of a noble brotherhood." England squatted and grabbed the child, picking him up and tossing the body into the air only to catch him on his way back down.
Pulling the boy into him, England held him close in his arms and nuzzled his cheek. The other sailors watched the spectacle. Such kindness and tenderness from the pirate captain was unheard of and only a select few had ever seen him like this. "You see America, you're always the bad guy to whoever wants to see you that way but to someone you're the hero. One day, you can be someone's hero."
Big, blue eyes sparkled in wonder, "You mean it England?"
"Yes," he smiled down on the child.
"When I get bigger, I'm going to be your hero England!"
"I'm sure you will America." England's laugh boomed throughout the small.
But America was confused, "But, England, everyone always told me that pirates were scary. And England isn't scary. England is fun and makes me food!"
England beamed with pride, "At a lad. You see, some say that pirates steal and should be feared and hated. Which, is correct, I suppose in some cases. However, I say most of us are victims of bad press and it's all definitely exaggerated. We'd never stab you in the back and most certainly never lie or cheat. I speak for myself when I say that we're all just about the nicest men you'd ever want to meet."
America tried to say an unfamiliar word, "Ex… eggs… eggza.."
"Exaggerated lad. It means their lies." It was the easiest way to explain to a five year old.
Joy buzzed through his tiny body and he shook with happiness. He was glad to hear that everything people told him about England were simply lies. "Take me with you England! When I'm old enough!"
"Of course love because on the sea it's one for all for one and you'll have so much family. We'll all love you like a son. Would you like that instead of being here alone all the time?"
America jittered and nodded in exuberance. Oh how he couldn't wait to one day leave with England to the ocean and be a hero! "I'm going to be just like you one day England!"
"Then you will be a proud man one day. I am a gentleman of fortune and of such a thing I'm proud. But most importantly, would you like to know what you'll be?"
Little hands stretched out and gripped the crimson coat that he was snuggled into. It was his speechless way of saying, "Yes, tells me everything."
"For starters, you'll be honest and brave and free! You'll be the soul of decency. You'll become loyal and fair and on the square and most importantly," he cut off, "Can you tell me what's most important about being a pirate?"
He was sure he knew the answer. He thought back on all England had said that stuck in his brain. America's little face scrunched in concentration.
"Are you sure you don't want any help dear?" England offered him a pat of the head.
Being the stubborn little colony he way, America pushed the hand away with his tiny hands. "England, when you're a pirate, you're always in the best of company." He was resolute on his answer.
England's face softened, "Always America, always." He held the child close to him and sunk to the floor. He wouldn't move nor release the boy.
America was content with staying is the warm and strong arms forever. He missed his guardian when he went back to sea. Sometimes for many months on end he wouldn't see the blond Brit. It broke his little heart and there were nights where he curled up with all the toys England brought him and cried into the darkness.
America didn't know it but England did the same thing. Everytime he returned to his beautiful boy, he'd stash ribbons and socks, snatch a toy or two and cry over them whenever they made port.
It took several minutes but soon, England waved the sailors away and remained on the ground, whispering sweet things to his charge until he fell asleep. If he could, he would have preferred to stay that way forever but alas, duty called. Life as a pirate was a glorious and painful thing. But he was a professional and there was no helping it. Tucking the boy into bed, he crept out of the front door, leaving one love for another.
Oh, did I say this was going to be cute? I lied. Some how, I see this as a very convincing way to get someone interested in being a pirate.
I Love Tim Curry's voice. And his coat. I want~
-MattieWinter-
I kind of have an epilogue in mind. Should I try writing and posting it?