Title: Exitus
Rating: T
Characters: England, Mary I, Lady Jane Grey
Warnings: Mild description of the burnings.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

"I'm not doing anything bad. They're Protestants. By releasing their souls before the body can do anymore bad, I'm sending them to Heaven. I'm not bad... I'm not Bloody Mary! I'm doing them a favour..." the lady- still merely a girl in mind, really- stared out the window, speaking in a monotone voice. She took a sip of her tea and glanced at the man over the rim of her teacup.

"Isn't that right, Arthur?" Mary pressed. "I'm right, aren't I? I'm a good person!"

"Why do you sit up here, isolated, instead of going to the crowd?" Arthur asked. He ran a finger around his saucer. "I'd have thought that you would rather enjoy this in person, Mary."

Instead of pushing for an answer, Mary said: "I like to watch them all at once."

"Ah. I can see why you would want the safety of this room..."

"Safety, Arthur? I guess you're right, England is safer. The Queen is a Catholic. So England shall follow suit. That's why Protestants are not to be tolerated; they are offending God." Mary said, her voice trembling. "Isn't that right, Arthur?"

The man took a sip of his tea, admiring the exquisite goldleaf designs. Nothing less than perfect for the Queen. The Queen was nothing less than perfect. He leaned back in his chair ever so slightly, swivelling his gaze to the charred, struggling figures engulfed in brilliant red flames. They must be wondering where the rotten English weather has gone to when they need it. Arthur's lips pulled up in a deranged half-smile.

"Excellent taste, my lady. The tea is simply divine. Perfect for such an occasion, don't you think? Tea... and entertainment." Arthur commented. Queen and nation continued in their lighthearted match. Each said something in reply to the other's statement; something completely mad and of no relation whatsoever. Arthur, for one, rather enjoyed this insane game of theirs. He watched with fascination as his Queen grew restless. His satisfaction lay within Mary's ever-changing expressions.

"Perhaps."

"W-what? Pardon me..." Mary stuttered, startled by his sudden statement. She struggled to regain composure. They had lapsed into silence a few moments before, watching the humans slowly disintegrate. To catch Mary I off-guard was a small accomplishment in itself.

"Perhaps." Arthur repeated, looking at his Queen in the eye. Anyone else who had the audacity to do so would have been carted off to the Tower at once, yet Arthur Kirkland had no fear. He held her gaze for some time.

"Why do my people hate me so, Arthur? Have I not been a good Queen to them? Ridding England of the vermin crawling through the streets..." Mary's voice suddenly rose in pitch. "But I'm a good Queen! Isn't that right, Arthur?" She stared at the man whose face was half-concealed by shadow. "Isn't that right?" Rage exploded in her when he didn't reply. Yet, when he smiled, she'd immediately quieten down. Because for Mary, smiles were good. Silence was bad. Because silence meant that he was considering, and she didn't want people to consider. She wanted them to say what she wanted to hear.

"Perhaps." Arthur finally replied, smiling with the knowledge that his Queen would not kill him. Not yet. I will spare the life of Lady Jane. Arthur cast a glance to the nearly finished executions, observing distantly the horror and pain in their eyes. He smiled again, eyes glinting with amusement. Oh, how lovely this Queen was.

This is just one of my interpretations of Mary I and Tudor England. Instead of having him half-dead from the burnings, I made England deranged. This is only one of them, though, and a rather inaccurate interpretation at that. I made use of my artistic license a little here, what with Mary's instability being a tad exaggerated.