Hello again, all! This fic already has so many watchers, it makes me happy! Thank you all so much!

This chapter can be interpreted as US/UK, or just platonic, whatever floats your boat. This is much more light-hearted than the last one, thankfully, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Hetalia.


Enchanted? Pffft…

"D-Do you hear that?" America stuttered, clinging to England's shoulders extra tightly as the wind howled around them.

"Hear what?" The Briton snapped, turning his head to glare at America, who was practically cowering behind him. "Honestly, we are never going to find our way out of here if you continue to be scared of nothing."

"B-but- The hero is never scared!" The younger blond exclaimed, fist pumping the air (and just barely missing England's ear as he did so). His shout of excitement scared a flock of birds out of their tree, and the resulting rustle made America cower once more.

England sighed. Honestly, and he was supposed to be the most powerful nation in the world. They were never going to make it out of this forest if America was going to keep clinging to him that way.

Not to mention, it was all America's fault they were in here in the first place. What kind of a person decided that the shortcut to the nearest McDonalds was through the woods outside of the hotel the World Summit was meeting in?

"E-England?" The younger nation stuttered again, and England could feel a migraine coming on. "I think this forest is… haunted."

America spat out the word as though it was capable of hurting him; England turned around to find him shivering.

"This forest is most certainly not haunted."

"Sure it isn't. I bet your fairies told you that, huh?"

England stiffened a bit at such a sarcastic reference to his friends, and debated changing his mind and telling America that yes, the forest was haunted, and that these monsters loved the taste of hero flesh. He came very close to doing it, too, before realizing that it would probably only cause him more problems.

"No, as a matter of fact they did not have to. I should hope you think I'm at least competent enough to tell an enchanted forest from a haunted one."

Suddenly, America stopped clinging to him. England was momentarily relieved, until he realized it was because he'd stopped walking. When he turned around, America was staring at him, pointing an accusatory finger.

"You… you knew this forest was haunted and you let me come in here?!"

"Not haunted, you dolt, enchanted! And I didn't let you come here, you dragged me in after you without listening to me tell you not to come in."

America stared at him for a moment, a hand at his chin in thought. Then he turned to England suddenly, a bold grin on his face.

"Ha! This proves fairies aren't real, you senile old man!"

"What the bloody hell are you going on about now?!"

"If they were real, then we would have already been out of this forest. Unless they like watching you suffer as much as I do."

England now started to wonder if everything that had occurred up to this point was a clever ruse created by America to mess with him. And then he remembered this was this man who wanted to end global warming by sending rocket ships full of snow to the Sun to keep it cool.

"Of course they don't, they love my company! It's probably just you being here, screaming and filling the air with your non-believer aura."

"M-My… *snort* my non-believer aura," America was doubled over in laughter now, clutching his stomach and making terribly obnoxious sounds. England frowned, his eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, before he silently shook his head and left.

Maybe the fairies hadn't been any help, but that lovely purple unicorn standing just behind the trees might just be his ticket out.

End.


Hehe, this chapter was loads of fun to write. If you enjoyed it, or if you have any comments or critiques, please leave a review. Thank you all for reading!

Next Chapter: Spain messes up. Again. How will he work his way out of this one?

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