Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Frostbitten fingers grabbed hold of the root, pulling until the cold earth gave in and let go of its precious fruit. Her breath came out in white puffs, colouring the raw air white.
"Finally." She swept some strands of hair from her face, which glimmered with sweat in the process of turning to ice.
Before she walked to the worn, old door made of oak, she spared the frozen world around her one last glance. Both she and the brown door sighed when it finally closed.
"I've got food." She said calmly and walked into a brown, oval room that was being used as a kitchen.
Alistair glared at her over the book he was reading. Sighing, he closed it and dropped it at the table. He stared at the eatable root before shaking his head.
"You know, if you hadn't destroyed the bridge, we might have had real food instead."
"I know." She kept her face blank as she stared into his green eyes.
Dragon snorted before pulling his hand through his red locks. "You're so stupid."
Faster…
The little girl couldn't be more than seven years old when Alistair saw her for the first time. With blond hair tucked into a braid and green eyes that seemed stuck on the horizon. He turned up again to see the two – a man and a woman - far too nicely dressed for the occasion, and sneered. It was way too hot today for him to be bothered by this.
"She's too young."
"She will grow older." The man said before throwing him a small sac of gold. "This should cover the expenses."
The woman next to him, who held the little girl's hand in an iron grip yawned, as if this whole ordeal bored her to death. Alistair watched her in calm disgust before opening his mouth again.
"No prince will be interested in a mere child. It will take years before someone comes to save her." And what will I do with her in the meantime?
Both parents gave him a look that all but said and-you-think-we-care-because? A wave of pity welled up inside him as he saw the little girl flinch and stare up at him, as if she first now understood that she would be living here, with him, until someone came to get her. Though it fascinated him that she didn't cry as her parents' carriage disappeared into the trees, he soon lost interest and started pushing her against the door.
"Sir?"
Her clear voice, void of sadness and despair, startled him. "Yes?"
"Are you a mean person?" She asked, looking fairly wondering.
Alistair kept staring at the girl until he chuckled and scratched his right ear, his silver earrings clinking softly.
"Yes, princess. I'm a very mean person." He said, hoping to see some of the usual fear that he used to see in the other girls' eyes.
But instead she just nodded, as if she expected that answer, and kept walking to the lonely tower that now was her new home. And that's when Alistair remembered one thing her parents had forgotten to mention.
"What's your name, lass?"
She turned and looked back at him, green eyes glimmering. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it again. A new name, perhaps? Alistair waited patiently as she fell in silence and pondered. After giving it some thought, she nodded to herself and smiled, the answer she came up with obviously pleased her.
"Alice."
Faster and faster…
Alistair woke up as Alice's tearing scream filled the tower in the middle of the night.
"Not again." He groaned, but still jumped up from his warm bed to run up the many steps to the child's chamber.
"Alice, Alice, pretty Alice." He comforted and pulled her into his arms. "Nightmare?"
She sobbed and dug her fingers in his nightshirt. "Al-Alistair…"
"Schhh…" He mumbled and stroked her head. "It's okay, everything is okay."
Really, what am I doing? He thought as he kept consoling the child. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
Faster and faster and faster…
"Alistair?" A soft voice whispered in his ear, and Alistair tensed under his thin cover and looked up in Alice's green eyes.
After realising it was the small girl he relaxed and slipped down to rest his face on the pillow again and grumbled something sounding like 'whaddya want'.
"I'm bleeding."
Alistair threw the covers away and bolted up the bed, all in a matter of two seconds. His own piercing green eyes searched her little – but bigger then when she got her years ago – frame after injuries.
"Where!?" He spluttered, and Alice couldn't help but feel amused at his panicked state.
She had awakened from her bed exactly five minutes ago, the once white sheets red and with a hard, metallic fragrance surrounding her. Before she could open her mouth and inform the redhead about this highly unpleasant experience, his eyes were glued between her legs, his pale cheeks flaming red.
"Oh..."
That was it, just a soft Oh, and Alice lifted her right foot before stomping down again, listening to the absorbing squelching the thick blood made when it connected with the floor. "Am I dying?"
Alistair looked like he'd been hit by lightning and he quickly looked away from her lower parts.
"N-no." He cursed, why is it suddenly so hard!?
It wasn't as he hadn't done this before. He had been forced to fly out in the woods to search for painkilling herbs, and he'd ruined his own clothes to use for… well, 'protection'.
"No." He said, voice steadier this time. She had only surprised him, nothing to worry about. She was just on her way to become the woman that princes' would die to save from his killing grip.
"Listen here, lass," He started nervously, "it's like this, you see…"
He would probably die from her attentive stare, this was just plain embarrassing.
It will be some long years, he thought before engulfing in what he knew about girls' turning into women.
Faster and faster and faster and faster…
Alistair cursed the weather. He cursed the snow and the forest and the wind. Damn this world. He looked out the window at the white paradise that covered the usually damp-green grass and red trees, before closing it with a BANG and turned to the room again. Alice's stuttering breath made the cover beneath her pale chin wrinkle, and her weak voice called him to her bed armed with warm blankets and hot honey-water.
"Don't worry." He murmured and tucked her in deeper, deeper into the bed. "It's just a cold."
Until the time changes…
"When I'm older, the tower won't be my home?"
Alistair nodded as he stared into the boiling stew. "That's right."
Alistair could see Alice stare at him from the corner of his eye. In her hand there was a pointy knife soaked in juice from the different fruits on the table. Apples, pears, plums and pumpkins. He let her cut everything, holding her far away from the stove and the fire after she almost set the whole tower on fire that one time they were roasting some rabbits, and he promised himself never again.
"What if I said I don't want to leave?"
The spoon Alistair was holding stopped its movement for a split second before it continued to circle in the brown mess of meat, spices and milk.
"What if I said you don't have a choice?" His voice was cold incarnated, and he didn't turn to see her reaction.
He didn't need to.
"I'd say I do whatever I want, you stupid dragon."
And the eyes cover themselves from the world…
Alistair felt his skin crackle, and his two, majestic wings came out in the blistering wind. They didn't fit in the tower, who was all grey, brown and dark. Their colours deserved to enrapture the world with their shimmering gold, deep red and gleaming blue.
Somehow, Dragon thought as he spread them wide open, prepared to fly into the village because Alice's dress had been too small again – her body facing some kind of annoying growing spurt – my wings remind me of you.
Alice watch him fly through the air, cutting through it like it was nothing. It wasn't the first time she saw his wings, but the sight was still as breathtaking and wonderful. In her hands was one of her baby-blue dresses that still fitted. Not for much longer, she thought and picked up the needle from the dresser. Slowly, she started to sew into the blue fabric, sewed it in until it didn't fit around her hips and breast anymore. To see you wings I would ruin a million of pretty dresses.
As the curse leaves none intact…
The bridge wasn't beautiful. Made of grey, cold stone whose job was to preserve strength during cold winters and stormy summers. Of course it didn't have to be pretty as the cute little bridges that covered the small towns were, miles away from the lone tower. Because the only purpose that bridge had was to give the 'almighty' saviours a chance of actually reaching the tower before dying of either old age or boredom. Usually the last one.
It wasn't big, and it wasn't broad and not that long, but under it dwelled darkness. No one actually knew how far that darkness went, and no one really wanted to know either. The bridge had stood there when Alistair had 'captured' his first princess, a blond snooty brat who got rescued four months later by some unlucky prince on a white horse, and Alistair always thought that the bridge would stand there when he 'captured' his last snooty princess as well.
Apparently not.
Smoke tickled his nostrils and Alistair opened his eyes. What? He threw the covers away and rushed to the window. He wasn't unfamiliar with this kind of smell, because how many times hadn't it come from his own mouth? He pushed the shutters so hard they risked to detach from the window frame and looked out. The night was warm, lazy flies had annoyed him all morning. Now, the air was downright hot and instead of flies, golden sparks flipped over the fire that licked the bridge with its long tentacles. The stone had already, at some places, roasted to a black, inky colour.
"Great beloved God of…." Alistair cursed before jumping out in the sticky air, folding his wings out and floated down to the ground.
It was easy to locate the lonely figure in front of the fire. Alice had her bright hair tied up and she stared at the growing flames with indifference.
"Alice!" He roared, grabbed her and spun her around. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
But still creates light…
A suffocating silence had spread in the tower. Alistair caught himself ignoring grass-green orbs that followed his every step, and he also noticed those eyes close when faced with his eyes. They didn't talk to each other, and it was fine, Alistair consulted. It was fine. At least that's what he made himself believe.
"Ali!" Alice blurted out when they prepared dinner.
Alistair didn't lift his head, only nodded to show that he was indeed listening.
"We need to talk about this Ali, sooner or later," she whispered and laid down her knife, "and I would prefer sooner."
For the first time in weeks, Alistair lifted his head and looked her in the eyes "What do you want me to say?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
She sighed, as if he didn't understood. Which he probably didn't.
"I want you to keep me here," her voice rose in strength as she bore in her eyes in his, "forever."
Suddenly, Alistair felt himself choke on his own spit.
"Let us not talk about this again."
"But, Ali…."
"Never again."
That shine upon us…
"I think I saw a unicorn."
Alistair snorted and didn't turn around from the door he was fixing. "Right."
"No! I really saw one! It was pink." Alice giggled and closed the window.
Now, he knew that Alice was lying. Unicorns were incredibly shy and was never seen near the tower. Sadly enough. There could also be the slight chance that unicorns were terribly afraid of dragons, but who knows? The animals were beautiful either way and when flying through the air Alistair always tried to spy one on the ground below. He smirked and turned another page in his torn, old book. The book's pages were yellow of age and smelled of old wood, but neither he nor Alice wanted it any other way.
They hadn't spoken about that for nearly two months, and now Alistair felt like it was he that couldn't bear the heavy fact that Alice didn't see him as a dragon, a capturer, nor a friend or brother.
To the end of our days.
It was a chilly morning. The grass outside was frozen stiff and the wind went up and down the deep abyss that now missed a bridge. Alistair hadn't bothered to fix it.
And there is no deeper meaning behind that, right?
When Alice opened her window her breath immediately rose to puffy clouds. It would've been a peaceful, yet cold, normal morning if not for the sound of incoming hooves. Now, horses avoided the tower as much as the unicorns, so the alarm bells was soon ringing in her ears.
"Alistair!" She cried and made a run to the door, "Knights!"
While Alice ran in deep panic down the stairs to his room, Alistair was asleep. And he was dreaming.
(On a hot day, a small figure dressed in silk and blonde hair in braids looked up at him.)
"Are you a mean person?"
"Yes, princess, I'm a very mean person."
"What's your name, little girl?"
"Alice."
(That's not your real name now, is it? I wonder if I'll ever hear it.)
(They walked inside the tower and he showed Alice her room.)
(But for now, Alice is fine.)
(Fine.)
"How come you're a dragon, when you look like a human?"
"Stupid. Old dragons can transform themselves to humans, it help us fit in."
"Are you old?"
"Pretty old, yes."
"Older than me?"
"Decades older than you, lass."
"Ali…"
"Alistair!"
He woke when Alice screamed for the third time. She stood by his bed with bewildered eyes and suddenly Alistair thought about the morning when she'd had her first bleeding. But she wasn't bleeding now, she wasn't so calm either, which explained itself when she hissed out following sentences.
"The knights are coming! They're coming to take me away from you!"
A heavy feeling came over him as the information sank in. They're coming to take her away from him. Alistair had the animalistic need to growl possessively. He jumped off the bed and peered out his window. And indeed, around ten white horses stood on the other side of the abyss with as many men who stood in a circle and was probably discussing how they would get over to the other side.
Not on my watch.
He startled. What am I thinking!? The knights had come. The higher figure by the white horse, the one with blue cape and a golden crown on his curly head, was probably the prince who wished to save Alice and marry her back home in his kingdom. Wherever that was.
I will never be able to see her again.
No, no, no, NO! He wasn't supposed to think that. He wasn't allowed to think that! But the nagging feeling in his head and heart made him want to whimper in sadness and his own impotency. Why him? Why now? Why her?
"Ali, please talk to me," Alice murmured lowly, sneaking her pale arm around his, "I'm scared."
Me too, was what he wanted to say, instead he whispered: "You have no reason to be afraid."
Her tears were as big as they were sudden. They trickled down her cheek and fell down on his arm, salty and warm.
"Please don't leave me! Please Ali, please!" She cried.
Alistair couldn't even describe the pain he felt in that moment. It left a bitter, cold and dark hole in his chest and made him unable to move an inch.
So this is what true pain feels like?
"Go to your room."
"But Ali…"
"Go."
She swallowed, and then hesitantly let go of his arm before walking slowly out of his room. Backwards – her eyes never leaving his until he turned to face the window again. He swallowed.
Let's get this over with.
Through the night…
Alistair slowly went down the stairs, and then went out from the second exit. This way the knights wouldn't be able to see him transform. At first it was difficult. His bones had gotten used to the ones of a frail human, and didn't want to melt and be redone. His long, elegant horns had forgotten their usual form, and was now struggling to grow out of his red hair. To keep it short; it was a painful experience he didn't want to face again. Yet he didn't make a sound, and when he stepped out of the protection of the tower with his long claws, the knights gave up a surprising shout, as from their point of view he appeared out of thin air. After collecting himself, the boy with the crown on his pretty head stepped forward and tried to make something of a sneer grace his lips, though it looked more like a grimace.
"Be gone, vile creature!" He screamed and waved his sword back and forward.
Alistair inwardly sighed, and then started his rumbling. "Why have you come here, boy?"
Blood rushed to the prince's face. "I am not a boy!"
His suddenly high-pitched voice said something different, but of course Alistair didn't say that. God, it hadn't even gone ten seconds and he was already tired of the little boy pretending to be a man. He wasn't left alone with his thoughts though, as the boy kept talking.
"You think you're so big and strong, but I'm stronger!" The boy continued his ranting, and even his knights seemed a little annoyed by now.
"I am Alfred, Alfred the Hero!" He shouted loudly and laughed.
You've got to be kidding with me.
One of the knights groaned and leaned in closer and whispered: "Prince. Alfred the Prince."
"That's right! I am Alfred the Prince!" He roared gleefully, completely discarding his earlier mistake.
He probably didn't have anything else to define him. Alistair thought and got to the conclusion that he couldn't raise his eyebrows anymore as a dragon, huh. Oh, what-was-his-name-again the Prince was still talking.
…and that's why I'm so big and great…" Alfred continued as if he actually believed Alistair, a dragon, would want to hear his nagging and bragging.
And he still hadn't answered Alistair's question! Sure, he knew why the brat had come already, but had the prince never heard of manners? Alistair didn't even listen to the annoying voice of the prince anymore, because two things had become painfully obvious. One: Prince had a horrendous vocabulary, and probably made his parent vomit each time he opened his mouth. And two:
He would never give Alice to a guy like him.
And into the day…
When Alistair swung around and started to make his way back to the tower's other side, Alfred got absolutely furious, and soon starting to shout even louder.
"What!? Wait, you can't go! I haven't finished talking yet!"
But I have, Alistair said inside his convulsing mind, time to act.
Because another thing had become obvious as he turned around.
It wouldn't matter if the prince would have been the most charming or intelligent person in the kingdom – in the world – he wouldn't give Alice to anyone else anyway.
"Hey, stupid beast, come back!"
And they lived…
"Well?" Alice whispered in a hoarse voice, tears streaming down her face.
"Well what?" Alistair said and sat down plump on her bed.
Alice hissed, and quickly added: "Are you going to give me to them!?"
He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. "No."
Everything stills, and Alice sucks in a breath. "What?"
"What what?"
"That!" Alice screams and flail her arms, "What do you mean by that!?"
"That you're not going with the stuck up prince." Alistair said and watched her eyes widen.
She sank down on her knees and just stared at him, one second opening her mouth just to close it again later – like a fish. Two long strides later, Alistair sat next to her, thinking if he should lay his arms around her or not.
"Are you serious?" It came out like a sigh, but held more emotion in it than the most passionate serenade.
Green eyes peeked up from blond bangs, and he nodded.
"I'll stay with you?" Low voice, yet brimming with hope.
"I never said that."
Her head jerked up and the little mouth was formed as a big 'o'. "Huh!?"
"I never said that you would stay with me," he continued and stepped closer, "but I was going to."
For the first time that day, Alice smiled. She closed the little space between them and pressed herself at him in a close embrace.
"I love you." She whispered close his ear, holding him harder.
He took a deep breath. It's amazing how you can live for decades, but still hasn't entrusted those words, those promises, to anyone. He felt his whole body relax, leaning on closer to inhale her familiar scent.
"I love you too."
Happily ever after.
"Let's go!" Alice jumped excitedly in front of the window while he took off his shirt.
"There is no rush, it's not like they'll fix that bridge fast enough." Alistair smiled and dropped the white shirt in the bag Alice was holding, already beginning to fold out his wings.
"The sooner the better." She snorted and threw an appreciative glance at his wings and upper body.
"Don't you want to say goodbye to the tower? It's our home." Our. He had said it, loud and clearly for the world to hear.
"It was our home," Alice said and then pointed out the window at the blue sky, "that's our home now."
"This was your childhood." He insisted and started to warm out his arms and legs for the long flight.
Alice sighed dramatically and looked at the oval room. Her eyes turned softer and she carefully stroked the wall. "Goodbye."
With that, they were ready, and Alice skipped to him and took a firm grip.
"Got the bag?" He asked and wrapped his arms around her.
"Yepp!" She happily nodded against his chest as they began to stride closer to the window.
"Then let's fly," Alistair mumbled, "together."
Alice's breath hitched as they jumped, then flew through the air. It was fantastic. Loud shouts were heard beneath them from the knight and Alfred, but they easily ignored them – their arrows or insults not reaching them at all. Alice felt an indescribable happiness tear through her, and she leaned in closer to Alistair's ear and tried to whisper something when some strands of her hair fell in her mouth by the wind instead.
"What?" Alistair said. Loud because the strong wind kept drowning all their sounds.
Alice tried again, spitting out the hair, and this time it came out right, with no hair or walls or people between them.
"Let's live happily ever after, together!"
Faster,
Faster and faster,
Faster and faster and faster,
Faster and faster and faster and faster,
Until the time changes,
And the eyes cover themselves from the world,
As the curse leave none intact,
But still creates light,
That shine upon us,
To the end of our days,
Through the night,
And into the day,
They lived
Happily ever after,
The end.
Note: This used to be a small fantasy novel I did for school – but I thought it would fit well as a fic so I practically changed their names and a little of the plot and BAM, here it is!
Please note that I don't dislike Alfred. At all. I just needed an annoying, stereotypical prince and he was the first that came to mind.
/Tea