Just to let you know, I go back and fourth from human names to nation names. Also, England's brothers look like teenagers, perhaps around 16 or 17, plus they talk with their accents! I hope you like it!

A child who looked no older than four ran through the evergreen forest. His barefooted feet stung from the sharp rocks, and his little legs ached with protest as he ran. Still though, he couldn't stop now. His three older brothers were after him again, this time with their bow and arrows.

After a few minutes the boy stopped running, bending over panting, trying to catch his breath. He sat down by a tree, leaning his head back against the rough bark and closing his eyes.

He eventually heard giggling, and looked around startled. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was just some fairies. They fluttered around a patch of flowers, seeming to play some magical game.

It was quiet for a few more minutes before a new voice perked up. "Mon petit Angleterre, where are you?" A voice called. A voice that the boy knew well.

"Go 'way Francis!" He growled, getting back up to his feet. A boy who looked in his teenage years approached from behind some bushes. He had wavy blonde, shoulder length hair, and was wearing some dress like thing that looked extremely girly to the smaller boy. All of the fairies gasped and hid away.

"Non, I don't think I'll go anywhere." Francis replied, coming forth to stand next to the boy.

"I said GO AWAY! If you follow me, then my brothers will hear!" The little boy fumed.

"Hmm? Are they bothering you Angleterre? Don't worry, big brother France will make them stop." Francis said, petting the boy's mop of blonde hair.

"Don't call me that! My name is Arthur! And your not my brother!" The little boy, Arthur, said back.

"Of course not petit..." France smiled.

"Sasana! Where are ye hidin'?" A new voice, thickly accented in Scottish called. Arthur gasped, quickly grabbing Francis's wrist and darting behind the bushes that France had emerged from.

"C'mon out an' play!" Another voice called, this time accented in Irish. Out of the trees emerged three boys, all older than Arthur, and even Francis.

The oldest was Scotland. He had a full head of red curly hair, and forest green eyes the same shade as Arthurs. The second oldest was Ireland. He looked almost identical to Scotland, but he was a little shorter, and a little leaner than Scotland was. Then the third boy was Wales. He had light brown hair, but the same shade of green eyes.

All of Arthur's brothers had bow and arrows, though Scotland carried a heavy metal sword on his back. It glinted in the sunlight dangerously, causing Arthur to shiver in fear from his hiding spot. Francis was about to whisper something, but the small boy covered his friend's mouth. If you could call France his friend.

"I know he was 'ere, look at the foot prints!" Ireland said, pointing towards the muddy ground, where you could make out a faint trace of footprints.

"There's some bigger ones too. D'ya think Francis is with him?" Scotland asked.

"Maybe we could just leave Lloger alone an' go back? I want ya' ta teach me more sword fighting." Wales spoke up.

Arthur's three brothers soon gave up, and went back to the field where they had been sword fighting and wrestling. Arthur himself sighed with relief as their footsteps faded away. Francis was actually concerned for his little friend. Arthur was always braving through everything, but whenever his older teenage brothers were near, the boy actually trembled! It was insane!

"Mon petit...are you okay?" He asked after a minute. Arthur had been silent, biting his lip.

"Why do they hate me? I...I don't even know what I did..." The child spoke softly, more to himself than to Francis.

"Mon cher Angleterre...shhh." France hugged the smaller nation, whispering soothing words to the distraught boy. For a moment England was actually comforted, before he realized that France of all people was hugging him, so he quickly pulled away, punching the taller nation as hard as he could. France only laughed.

"Stupid git..." Arthur muttered. Secretly though, he felt a little better. The sun was out brightly, his fairy friends looked happy, and he was with someone who didn't despise him completely. So maybe for the rest of the day, he'd be happy.

a/n: I just don't think there's enough little England fanfics out there, so I've decided to start on one! I can make some more chapters if you want, just review and lemme know!

Translations:

Mon petit Angleterre - My little England

Sasana - England (In Scottish)

Lloger - England (In Welsh)