Based very vaguely of this doujin http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=BVYJ4NBSp50&feature=BFa&list=WL2D6EAACA1DAD6676&lf=BFpI don't know the title, but it's amazing!
(1) I base England's parentage on the book "the mists of Avalon" an Arthurian novel which from what I can tell says that Britannia was a pagan nation until the Romans came. The Romans killed off many of the druids and introduced Christianity, causing a rift between those who were Christian and those who followed the old religion.
When I translated this into Hetalia verse, it meant to me that the modern Christian England would have been caused by the installment of Roman blood, and so... yeah... fill in the blanks..
so... yeah... Sorry Britannia... I do love you... you're awesome!
But, it's not all bad with her. At least in my mind, she had Scotland as well as North and South Ireland with Celt, who she had a loving relationship with.
(2) The introduction of Christianity caused many wars, and during these wars Avalon the holy place of the druids was attacked repeatedly. To save the priestesses and priests in training and save the old religion the priests and priestess cast a spell, which separated Avalon from the rest of England.
This goes on until Arthurian times, when Avalon starts to sink farther into the mists after the sacred cup of Avalon is defiled by the knights of the round table who use it to perform the Eucharist.
After this Morgaine (Morgan le fey) lures King Arthur into the land of the faeries (a land completely separated from the world, where time doesn't exist) and steals the magical sheath of Excalibur which keeps wounds from bleeding.
Her lover Avaloch fights King Arthur, but dies when King Arthur manages to take back the scabbard. King Arthur then dies by the hand of Morgaine and throws Excalibur into the depths of the lake, Avalon is then plunged even farther into the mists, and becomes like the land of the faeries, and is never seen again.
In my mind, that would make Avalon a totally different nation, one who's disappearance Scotland blames on Arthur
that's the bare bones basics. if you want to know the whole story, read the book. It's amazing.
so yeah... I don't own Hetalia... Correct any spelling mistakes you see.
Also. This is NOT Brittancest... Sorry I gave you the wrong idea... but yeah. This IS NOT some weird masochistic romance. it's family shit that's escalated way too much and has given birth to bad blood on both sides.
This was edited a lot from the original, because someone who read it found it offensive. So I changed it a lot. It still retains much of the original emotion that I'd been going for, and even some of the same writing, but a different plot.
If you would like to see the original, please leave a review saying so.
THIS HAS BEEN EDITED SOMETHING MAJOR. IF YOU WANT THE ORIGINAL, MESSAGE ME.
it was dark that night. He'd waited up so patiently for Scotland to go to bed, which was something of a feat for the young England. He'd never been up so late in his life. England took a deep breath, willing himself forward. His bare feet made little patting sounds on the floor as he walked towards Scotland's bed. A single stream of light came from the open door, illuminating Scotland's fiery red hair.
Why was it that all his siblings except him were gingers? Had he done something wrong? Scotland would say yes. He'd done something wrong. He'd been born. He'd been born of Britannia and Rome. He'd been born of invasion (1). He was the reason the old religion had died. He was the reason magic was disappearing. The reason Avalon had disappeared into the mists never to be see again. Why they'd lost their mother and sister. (2)
And of course he always looked so beautiful while doing it. His lovely green eyes blaze as if magical green forest fires were lit just beneath the surface. Honestly that's half of why he annoys Scotland. He likes how his brother's voice rises in sharp crescendos, the tendons of Scotland's neck straining against pale skin.
Scotland's skin has always been paler then his. Pale enough to glow in the light. He wishes their people didn't hate each other. He honestly prefers Scotland's smile. He wishes that he could play with Scotland like Wales and Ireland could. He spied on them sometimes, and he loved catching Scotland's happy smile. So wide and toothy, cocky and headstrong and most of all kind, just as England knew his brother could be towards him if only their people didn't keep them apart. But the Lord in heaven knows England could never let himself express the brotherly love that lay in his heart for a well placed fear of rejection.
But really what did that matter? That wasn't the point of all this.
"What the hell are ye doin' in here?" England's eyes snapped open at his brother's lazy, voice.
" Are you going to try and kill me?" Now he could see that Scotland had rolled over to face him, green eyes boiling with a sleepy lazy sort of annoyance.
"Bro- Brother" Scotland reached out, grabbing the little boy's arm.
"Don't be so scared wee one. Why are ye here?"
"I..." England's voice was stuck in his throat. It takes all of Arthur's will power not to gasp. He can see Scotland's beautiful eyes, bubbling with muted anger. His chest a shade pinker then a warm harvest moon, moving up and down with such a relaxed rhythm. England can't help but stare. Scotland's hands make him feel so small. Scratch that. Everything about Scotland made him feel small. A few tears dripped down his cheeks at the amazingly heart wrenching jealously he feel. He wishes he could just cuddle up to Scotland. He just wanted Scotland to smile for him. Couldn't he just say that?
"What's wrong England?" Those words could have been comforting, but they weren't. They were cold and sharp and annoyed.
"Out with it. I'll not be losing too much sleep over ye" Arthur knows this is the simple reality of the situation, but it still makes tears rush down his face with a renewed fervor. Why did they have to hate each other! All he wanted was a little attention. It wasn't his fault that the only way he could get it was through war. It wasn't his fault God damn it!
"Well then, say something you wee annoyance" Scotland's voice is so calm. His eyes aren't. They're swimming, stormy with conflict.
England whimpered, trying futilely to withdraw his hand. Now Scotland is more then annoyed. England can tell by how tense the hand around his arm had suddenly become. Now he can speak. The pain in his arm is opening his throat. Focusing him. Thank God. If that had continued much longer Scotland would really get angry.
"I...I had a nightmare" England mumbled. a couple more tears sneaking out. Scotland let out an annoyed sigh.
"Am I supposed to do something about that? " England's lip trembled. Yes. Yes you are Scotland. You're supposed to hold your little brother. You're supposed to protect him from the monsters just like you would for Wales and Ireland. But England makes no noise.
"Go back to yer own bed"
"...Okay" England's voice is a whisper.
"You're so boring" Scotland mumbled, picking up the Briton and carrying him to his bed, and rearranging tossed blankets over the little crying nation because he's not stupid enough to ignore the little brat. Scotland realizes that the little one can only do as his king bids, just like him. It makes him almost sad for a moment because in reality England is less annoying then Scotland would like to think, and perhaps with proper lessons and time the island would learn how to interact with other nations without causing war. But Scotland knows that for now it is better to not think of what cannot be. Maybe they would one day be siblings, but that day wasn't upon them for now.
So Scotland merely tucks the little one into bed, and after he's sure that the blonde has fallen asleep, he places a small kiss on the British boy's forehead just to show himself that he isn't heartless.