Author's Note: Wow... I have absolutely no idea where I came up with this story. XD I was just writing some ideas down, because I was taking a break from writing my HetaPotter fanfiction...and it sort of happened. XD I swear, every time I wrote 'the Kingdom of Hearts', I thought of the game Kingdom Hearts. XD I almost wrote Sora instead of Matthew a couple time too! XD WHO DOES THAT, OTHER THAN THE CRAZY WRITER KNOWN AS SAPPHIRE?! XD I REALLY liked how it turned out, though! THERE ARE SO MANY IDEAS ARE RUNNING THROUGH MY BRAIN! But, I wanna know what YOU think, so feel free to drop a review! If I missed a spelling/grammar mistake, please let me know so I can quickly correct it! Thanks so much for reading the story! Really, you have no idea how much that means to me! SAPPHIRE OUT!
Warning: Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD
Chapter One: Prince of the Heart Kingdom
He was running. For how long, it was anybody's guess. Maybe it was hours upon hours, or a few simple minutes stretched out to an impossible length due to fear. His lungs screamed and burned for oxygen, his gasps eventually becoming like fear's deadly metronome. Hot, sticky blood dripped down from a large gash on his forehead, a recent wound compared to the others across his chest that threatened to reopen.
He could still hear that creature behind him! God, he could still hear it! How could it still be in arms' distance when he had been running at top speed for so, so long? Its impossibly large feet thumped against the wooden floor, its monstrous breath still steady and intimidating.
He tried running down the stairs, praying to whatever god was out there that he wouldn't trip and fall. He made quick turns and twists every time he spotted a hallway, but everything he did proved to be a waste of time. The creature still kept him in sight at every turn, even getting closer. He bit his lip. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, and the creature knew it too.
His eyes widened in sudden realization when he found he had made a wrong turn into a room, trapping himself. He barely had the time to turn around before the monster brought its clawed hand down. At first, the tick of a still running, nearby clock seemed to slow. He felt no pain at all. To be more precise, he felt nothing at all. He simply stared down dumbly at the arm stuck inside his chest; the purple arm bulging with unnatural muscle. Then, it hit him. The white hot, searing pain. He screamed in agony and crumbled to the floor when the arm was removed. The creature's breath got softer and softer as it walked away, feeling as if its job had been done.
His breath came in short, ragged gasps. He could feel the blood pouring into a crimson pool around him. He almost let out a chuckle at how pitiful he must've looked. He was going to die alone in his own pool of blood. How cliché was that?
At death's door, he found tears smearing the blood stains on his cheeks. He was going to die without anyone ever remembering him. He was going to die without telling Alfred that he wasn't that bad of a brother. He was going to die without truly loving someone, and having them love him back.
Heh, what a pathetic waste of oxygen he was.
Then, a face hovered over his. The man's blue eyes were wide and tear-filled, his usual energetic expression wiped away. He stared at the new man, obviously shocked to see him, "A-Al? H-How...? I th-thought-"
"I didn't want to leave my younger brother. I thought that I would be able to save you if I came in time. Pl-Please, Mattie... D-Don't die..." Alfred explained, tears dripping from his cheeks onto his brother.
He smiled at Alfred. He was so childish and naïve, but... at least he would get to fulfill one of his wishes before he died, "I-It's okay, Al... J-Just know that... th-that I never r-really thought y-you... to be th-that bad of a... brother..." He took one last, airy breath and fell limp, his violet-blue eyes still smiling up at Alfred.
"N-No... Mattie..." Alfred hugged his brother's limp body tightly in his arms, tears falling down his cheeks in rivers, "MATTIE!"
Matthew woke up with a start, his chest heaving. He scanned his bedroom with frantic eyes before ripping his shirt off to view his chest. It... was perfectly fine. So that... had been just a nightmare. A very realistic nightmare.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and let his beating heart calm down. That was a very weird dream... He had had nightmares before, like any normal person would, but never had he had one so gruesome. He died in a pool of his own blood, for God's sake!
"Master Williams?" Matthew turned his gaze towards the door at the sound of a knock, "Is everything all right? I thought I heard something."
"Everything is fine, Anastasia," Matthew quickly assured.
"Of course, Master Williams. Also, your father would like me to inform you that he will be out until this evening," Matthew almost cried out in joy at his maid's reply. Father would be gone, so he could sneak out for the first time in months!
"Thank you for telling me. That'll be all, Anastasia," He smiled brightly as he heard her heels clip down the hallway. Today was going to be a wonderful day!
He jumped out of bed and threw his closet doors open. He grabbed a thin, linen shirt and shrugged it on, then quickly shuffled into a loose pair of shorts that fell below his knees. He grabbed a cloak and a pair of boots, skidding into the hallway. He pulled his boots onto his feet with fumbling fingers and clasped the metal clip (obviously of Heart Kingdom design, as the metal clip was formed into a heart) on the collar of his cloak as he ran down the stairs.
He ran pass ancient paintings and podiums, which held just as old sculptures, and strode into the castle's kitchen.
"Not thinkin' about sneaking out, are ye, lad?" The blond whipped his head in the direction of the gruff voice, but the tension quickly melted away at the sight of the castle's cook Boris Fendrel. The man was large and rounded, but not from fat. Oh no, the man was pure muscle. Although the man would appear menacing, especially with that long scar across his left eye, he was actually quite a kind soul.
"No, of course not, Boris," Matthew lied easily with a laugh, "I just thought I would get something to eat before going out on a ride on Rain."
"Then you've come to the right place!" Boris smiled and let out that booming, jolly laugh of his. He opened one of the many wooden cabinets and grabbed something from inside before closing it once more, "Loaf of bread - freshly baked this morning." He threw it towards Matthew, the younger boy easily catching it.
"Thanks, Boris!" Matthew smiled and took a bite out of the still warm food.
"It's my pleasure to serve you, Your Highness," Boris responded with a bow.
"Stop it, Boris. You know I don't like it when you do that. It's just Matthew."
"I know that!" Boris smirked and straightened himself, "But you're going to have to get used to it. You're the Prince of Hearts, and in the hopefully faraway future when your father dies, the King of Hearts."
Matthew sighed and diverted his sharp, pooling violet-blue eyes at the suddenly very interesting ground, "I know..."
Boris frowned and put a large, calloused hand on the young prince's shoulder. Matthew looked up in surprise, the tall, muscled man scanning him over in the morning light with chocolate brown eyes, "Look at it this way, ye have a long time before ye become king, so cheer up. Ye still have the rest of your youth ahead of ye."
Matthew put some of his wavy, blond hair behind his ear and gave a weak smile, "Okay. Thanks, Boris."
"No problem. Anything is worth getting a smile back on that face of your's. Now, run along," Boris smiled and ushered Matthew out of the kitchen. Matthew paused a moment before running off to the stables. He had told Boris he was going to ride Rain, so he should at least go to the stables, as to not look suspicious.
Matthew weaved through the crowded streets with a grin. He loved being out in the village. The aroma of baking food carried on the crisp air and the braying of stubborn donkeys acted as an alarm clock to all of those that were still asleep. For Matthew, someone who had been sheltered all his life, this was a wonderful, refreshing sight.
He wandered with the crowd, pulling the cowl of his cloak further over his face when the wind started to blow. Matthew eventually came upon the Town Square, where many people had gathered around one man. He pushed through to get a better look at what was reeling the townspeople in, before he too found himself staring.
The man in the center had wild, dirty blond hair. He was relatively fair-skinned and his eyes were closed. An enormous pair of eyebrows sat above the man's eye sockets, knitted in concentration. The man played on a violin, the beautiful notes and rhythms reverberating through the air. He moved the bow against the silken strings with a simple, yet amazing elegance that would have any musician jealous.
Before Matthew knew it, however, the song had come to an end. Some of the villagers clapped, while others dropped coins into the black pot beside the blond street musician. The man didn't smile. He simply watched the people come and go with cat-like, emerald green eyes and a stoic expression. Matthew almost turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks when two castle guards approached the man.
"Do you have permission to be playing here, sir?" One of the guards asked curtly.
That seemed to pull some kind of emotion from the man, "Uh, well, you see..."
"If you don't have permission, sir, we'll have to arrest you." At that, the man's green eyes widened then darted around his surroundings, as if looking for an escape route. The guards moved forward, prepared to grab him if he tried to run.
"Stop," Matthew suddenly found himself commanding. What was he doing? He was going to blow his cover like this!
The guards whipped their gazes onto the prince, along with the musician, "Sir?"
"I said stop," Matthew repeated and came closer, "You will not arrest that man for simply playing wonderful music without permission. That's like arresting someone for eating without permission."
"And who are you to tell us to stop?"
"Prince Matthew Williams," He removed his cowl, "Heir to the Kingdom of Hearts."
The guards gasped in shock and immediately went into a kneeling position. The musician seemed surprised too, but an awful lot more than the guards before him.
"Forgive us, Your Majesty! We did not know it was you!"
"You are forgiven. Now, rise and preform your duties - without mention of this meeting." The soldiers chirped quick "yes, sir"s and stood up, walking away as if nothing had happened.
Matthew smiled at the still in shock blond and pulled his cowl back up, "I'm sorry about that. They have good intentions, but those can go only so far."
"You're Matthew...?" The musician gaped.
Matthew let out an awkward laugh and sidestepped, "Yes, but please, don't go shouting it out. I'm not really suppose to be here, you see."
The reply seemed to confuse the man, "Don't you recognize me?"
"I'm afraid not. If we had met before, I would definitely remember."
"It's me. Britain. Arthur Kirkland," Arthur looked at Matthew as if he was something that couldn't possibly exist, but at the same time was right in front of him.
Matthew frowned in confusion, "Your name does sound vaguely familiar. Where did we meet?" Before he could get a reply, he noticed the sudden increase of guards in the area, all obviously searching for something, or rather someone, "Maple. Looks like they know I'm gone."
"Gone?"
Matthew suddenly took off his necklace, which consisted of a simple chain with an intricately carved sapphire heart, and handed it to Arthur, "I'd like to talk more. When you can, go to the castle and ask to see me, then show the guards that necklace. They should let you through."
"What? But-"
"Goodbye!"
Matthew ran towards the castle and left a dumbfounded Arthur behind. Arthur watched Matthew's cloaked silhouette fade into the crowd until all he could see were villagers and troubled guards. Even here, Matthew had an amazing ability to go invisible.
That lead to another question. Just how could he be here? He had died in that mansion that the countries had made a silent vow to never mention again. The body was the best evidence to know that, but if that wasn't enough, America had watched him die. He didn't talk for many months after, which scared many of the nations, even him. When the blond nation regained his voice, he still wasn't the same. It was as if America wasn't Alfred anymore.
So, how could the person that caused America that much grief, be here in a world that Arthur had only just discovered? A world that had been sealed off by something so powerful that even he had trouble unsealing?
There were definitely some questions that needed answering.
Arthur put his violin away into the leather case, then let out a sharp, clear whistle. A few seconds later, a familiar, mint-colored bunny appeared.
"Yes, Britain?"
"Flying Mint Bunny, I need you to look after someone while I return to our world. He's the Prince of Hearts. Don't worry, you'll recognize him when you see him."
"Of course!" Flying Mint Bunny smiled. Britain watched with a fond smile as the creature flew off in the direction of the castle, but a frown quickly returned to his face. He lifted up the necklace that Matthew had given him to the sun, watching the sapphire gems gleam in a mystifying way. It sure was a beautiful trinket. Valuable too, most likely.
Arthur shoved the necklace into his pocket and prepared to bring himself back into his world. Things were about to get interesting.