Hero Complex:
a. A personality trait defined by the impulsive need to help others and change the world.
b. The legend of Arthur and Alfred; the story of star-crossed nations who have loved, lost, and found their way along the path to discovering what it means to be a hero.
Author's Notes: A friend challenged me to write a fic that contained both smut and sadness. And here we are. All of my USUK headcanons (almost) in one fic.
Soundtrack: A Star is Born from Hercules, and Everyone's A Hero for Dr. Horrible.
History Point: Colonialism
It began on Alfred's first visit to London. Yet just a fledging nation, Arthur carried the young boy through the hectic streets of London, the boy's eyes wide and soaking in every colour and every detail. Arthur's heart was cheerful in the face of Alfred's sheer delight. As Alfred's eyes settled on a side street sweet shop, Arthur smirked knowingly. Alfred's sweet tooth would certainly be the death of him.
He put the boy down and held his hand, fishing with his other in his pocket for a few pence for sweets. They turned the corner and entered the shop, Alfred running ahead and pasting his sticky fingers and face to the glass behind which was displayed a variety of confectionaries.
"So the Hero returns," says the confectioner, addressing Arthur. "And with a tag along."
Arthur smiled, pointing to the sweets he wished to purchase. "Two of those please, and I had to bring home something from the New World didn't I?"
The confectioner packaged up the sweets in a small paper bag saying, "But of course. Does the lad have a name?"
"Alfred," Arthur replied, running his leather gloved fingers through Alfred's sunshine blond hair. Alfred's eyes shot up to Arthur upon hearing his name, and Arthur's heart fluttered.
"Well, here you are then Alfred," the confectioner said, slipping the bag of sweets around the glass to Alfred as Arthur left the payment on the counter. Alfred immediately snatched the bag and fished with his fingers inside.
"Oi, Alfred. What do we say to the confectioner?" Arthur said sharply.
"Thank you Mister con-fish-in-er!" Alfred said proudly. Arthur just shook his head as Alfred began devouring his sweets.
"Confectioner, Alfred," Arthur sighed. "Con-fect-shon-er."
"Con-fect-in-er," Alfred replied.
"Close enough," the confectioner said, laughing softly. "Don't eat those too quickly there, lad, you'll upset yourself."
"Okay!" Alfred replied, placing his sweet back in the bag, and poking his head out the door into the sunshine. It sparkled off the natural highlights in the boy's hair.
"Oh, of course, the brat listens to you," Arthur said, rolling his eyes and following Alfred out into the street.
Spurred by his lesson on the word "confectioner," Alfred paused their walk to read the newsstand display.
"Great ex-por-ers return from America!" Alfred read aloud to Arthur.
"Explorers," Arthur corrected lightly.
"Do they mean you, Mister Arthur?" Alfred asked.
"Sort of, also the crew and captain of the ship," Arthur explained.
"A star is born," Alfred read the subheading as Arthur purchased a paper. "What does that mean?"
"Just that someone has become popular or gained public importance," Arthur tried to explain.
"Like a hero?" Alfred asked.
"A hero could be considered a star, yes," Arthur said, leading Alfred off the main road and down a side street towards their London home.
"I want to be a hero," Alfred said. "Just like you!"
Arthur smarted for a moment, a delight welling inside of him. Then he said something he wouldn't realize the implications of until years later.
"Well you are a hero, you know," Arthur said. "Everyone's a hero in their own way."
"Huh?" Alfred said.
Arthur stopped and crouched down in front of Alfred, gently tapping on his chest with his gloved finger.
"In your heart is the power for making you a hero too," Arthur said. He turned and lured Alfred's sight to the stars emerging in the twilight that settled over London. "Every night a star is born."
Alfred smiled and hugged Arthur tight.
"I'm going to be the best hero ever!" Alfred exclaimed.
Arthur picked the boy up and carried him the rest of the way home.
"You do that, lad," he replied. And I hope you have more morality than me, he thought.
And the legend begins! I know it's cheesy but I had to start somewhere, right? I promise it will get more in-depth as we go.
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