A/N: Because of school, I haven't been able to write fanfiction a lot lately. But now that summer is coming, and I'm going off to college next year, I want to write as much as I can! I'm going to update my fanfiction account with already written fics from livejournal first, and then move on to finish some of my other stories such as Arthur's Phases and new stories that I've been dying to write.

Note: This fic was written for the hetaliaremix challenge on livejournal. I remixed the wonderful fic written by zalia called The Edge of the World which will be linked to in my profile. This fic is set after the Norman Invasions, so France and England are very little. I hope you enjoy :)

Dragons

It lay broken on the ground, splinters of its wooden body scattered across hard dirt, but its head was still intact. If this wooden toy were really a dragon, it would've screeched into the air and let out a breath of flame to express its anger. But alas, he could not move; he could not speak; he could only watch the scene unfold before him as he and his broken limbs lay shattered by earlier rough play.

His owner, whose name was France, was currently fighting with the boy who had broken him. The little boy, England, had been curious. Well, he was a curious toy. A carved, wooden dragon, exquisitely designed, created by only the best artisans of the time. He was a toy to be proud of when compared to the ordinary wooden horses children would play with these days. He was a more exciting form of entertainment for a young boy, and had certainly caught little England's eye at first glance.

But the play had been too rough, and unfortunately, he had broken in the process. France's face when he had seen England's deed was…crushed, to say the least. In a fit of rage, France had tangled his hand into England's hair and proceeded to drag him away, towards the cliff's edge. Now, the toy watched the scene unfold before him, witnessing for the first time the extent of love France had for him, and the extent of cruelty France was willing to impose to seek revenge.

"You horrid little ogre!" he shouted, tugging more tightly on England's hair. He dragged the little boy across the rough surface of the ground, a snarl on his face and his eyes burning with anger. He yanked harder on the hair, earning a yelp from the smaller child as he attempted to keep up with France's strides. He eventually lost balance and stumbled down, his knee scraping against a particularly jagged rock. England began to cry from the pain, his chubby little fingers causing the wound to bleed more and run down the length of his leg.

England's wails angered France even more, apparently, as he took the small boy by his collar and hollered, "Stop screaming, stupid baby! You're such a horrible little country! It's your fault!" He continued to drag England up until the edges cliff, the small boy trying to keep up with France's steps even though his knee was in a lot of pain.

While the dragon toy knew that England was responsible for his breakage, the punishment for his actions was more than expected. England was not a toy to be tampered with. If England were injured, he would feel the sting of the cut, the ache of the bruise, the throb of the wound, etc. The dragon toy, however, had felt none of these things. But France was handling England like England had handled him earlier, even though the circumstances were clearly different. The dragon toy no longer felt anger towards the small little country who was the cause of his disrepair. He felt the punishment had been dealt with quite enough.

France was not too keen to just let England go, however. He dragged the small child up to the edge of a cliff. If France let go, England would fall off the cliff and onto the jagged rocks of the sea. The dragon toy, if he had a heart, would have felt it choke in his throat. It was one thing to throw a toy to the ground, another to throw a small boy…

But that was the thing. These boys were still very young, and France's mindset was still that of a child…a stubborn, older child who received no proper guidance on behavior. His actions were composed of pure, childish cruelty.

England practically screamed in fear, no doubt imagining the pain of broken limbs and the sight of spilled blood. France reacted to his scream and shouted, "You're a rotten little barbarian!" He spun the boy around to face him. "You don't appreciate anything I do for you!"

England became defiant. "'m not a barbarian, stupid France!" he shouted as he vainly tried to shove France in the chest. However, this act only caused France to react with a hard slap to England's cheek. The poor boy's bottom lip trembled as he brought his own hand up to caress his cheek. At this point, the dragon toy could see a change in France's demeanor. It was no longer as ruthless as before. Instead, his eyes looked as if the onslaught of tears was about to burst forth.

"It was a present, Angleterre!" France yelled at the small boy. "It was a present given to me and you broke it!" France released England from his grip as he continued to speak. "And... and next time I'll throw you off the edge of the world and there are dragons and they'll eat you!" he exclaimed, turning away to rub at his eyes while he sniffled softly.

"…there are dragons…"

France's affection for the dragon toy was obvious. The toy wished it could give France the same comfort it had before, but now that he was broken, he would be thrown away, no longer to be played with. The dragon toy wished he could cry along with France…it was as if a friend had been taken away.

England kicked at the ground, his scowl faltering. He had the appearance of a child too stubborn to say sorry, even though he knew it was required of him. Finally, England spoke. "I didn't mean to…" he began, his lower lip in a small pout. "It was pretty an' I just wanted to see it." The dragon toy's anger towards England had resurfaced for a moment, remembering that it had been the small boy's fault that he and France were in such a predicament.

France's eyes were still red from crying. "It was a present and it's gone," he muttered to England, turning around to face the little boy. That's right…the dragon was gone now. He was a broken toy. Useless. If the dragon could cry, tears would be flowing from his face right now…

England pouted, a look of regret etched in his features. "'m sorry France. Was an' accident," he muttered, sniffing just like France had before.

Despite his earlier cruelty, France acted like the big brother he always claimed he was and rested a hand atop England's head in an attempt to soothe the pain that he'd caused earlier. "I am still very unhappy with you, Angleterre…" he said. The wound on England's knee was still bleeding, and France took notice. "You cut your knee did you not?" he asked the small child, pulling a cloth handkerchief from his pocket. "Let me see or the blood will attract monsters and I really will leave you to them."

England allowed France to examine his knee. The older boy spit into his handkerchief and rubbed the wound. England's face twitched slightly in pain, but nothing more. The dragon wished that his own injuries could be treated as quickly as England's…

"I'm gonna go to the edge of the world one day," England said to France as the older boy straightened up. He was staring out into the ocean, his eyes wide and certain. "An' I'm gonna make friends with a dragon an... an..." But before the small boy could finished, he yawned widely, trying to stifle it with his hand.

The dragon toy found it almost humorous with all of the dragon references the two boys were making. France must've been amused as well, for he said, "Of course you will," as he patted England's head. "Maybe a dragon runt. It will be the only kind that can put up with your shortness."

The dragon toy knew France was trying to make the best of the situation now; he was trying to act the big brother role he felt was his responsibility.

England scowled at France and stood up. "I will! An' I'll become a big empire. Bigger 'n Rome an then you'll have to do what I say." The dragon toy wanted to laugh along with France at the end of this statement. France took England's hand in his own and began to walk back along the point. "No matter what happens, mon Angleterre, that is something that I will never do."

And the dragon toy saw the two boys walk away. He wanted to sigh to himself. It looked like he was at the end of his journey. His owner was gone and he was all alone in the world now. The dragon toy stared out into the ocean by the cliff's edge- the edge of the world-, hopeful that a dragon would come and take him to a new home.

A/N: As always, constructive criticism is always appreciative :)