Chapter Two:

Arthur climbed down from the carriage, leaning back as he did so to look up at the looming structure before him. His bag was thrown to his feet and the carriage made a quick getaway behind down the twisting drive.

The house behind him screamed of neglect; nei, the entire grounds begged for a hearty dose of care. The state of the ancient house transfixed Arthur to the spot, pinning him there with black, empty windows framed in creepy ivy. The wild rose bushes that flanked the front steps and posts looked as if their last tending to had been when the good Queen Victoria had first taken her throne. Offending vines took over the pale grey stone of the steps, hanging from the bars of the lantern posts like swooning women.

"God above, it's like a bloody nightmare."

Sighing, Arthur reached for his bag. He stood with it thrown over his shoulders and began to push himself up the step. The once grand Kirkland estate house loomed in on itself, as if trying to reach out and wrap its arms around the returning sailor.

Arthur paused at the large oak door, staring at them in distain. Once polished wood work flanked in steel-work finery had been beaten and subdued by the elements. He reached out, brushing his fingers over the tarnished lion-head knocked and scowled at the clenching in his chest.

"What have they done to you," he breathed. Stealing a glance back over his shoulder, Arthur saw the carriage escape the dreary landscape and the iron gate slam shut behind it. "Shit."

Turning back to the door, Arthur spared the lion abused, as the ring looked ready to fall free of the metal-work beast's mouth, and rapped his cane against the wood. "I wonder if it's too late to hop a ship out of here." Muttering absentmindedly, Arthur leaned back, wincing as he made the mistake of placing weight on his leg.

Just as he was raising his cane for a second knock, the door slowly swung inwards. Darkness appeared to seep out of the estate house; Arthur felt a shiver race up his spine at the thought.

"Master Kirkland."

The formal title startled the sailor. Leaning to the side, he smiled slightly at the sight of a young, proper-faced man. The valet bowed lightly before righting himself with a cocked eyebrow at Arthur's stare. "If I may be so blunt, sir, we weren't expecting you home so soon."

"You and I both, Manon. Believe me." Chuckling weakly, Arthur limped inside. The door closed swiftly behind him, making the man pause as his eyes readjusted to the muted lighting. The checked flooring appeared to him first; filthy and desperate in want for a scrub. The only moderately clean tracks on it were where several paths had been attempted to be maintained, but even they were lacking. Leaning forward, Arthur caught sight of the house's grand stair case, now overrun in suffocating amounts of dust and cobwebs clinging to its off-white railings. Turning his attention upwards, Arthur frowned at the state of the tarnished chandelier.

"Manon, what has my brother been doing to this place?" He cast a disapproving gaze to the valet. Manon turned this attention to the staircase in reply. "I was only gone for a few months at most and he's let it gone to hell! My god, man, call the staff. Have some pride in this place; I bet he even let the gardens go wild."

"Arthur!"

Turning to the stairs, Arthur felt a grin creeping out at the sight of the boy running down the steps. Peter took them three at a time, taking the turns in the steps at such a speed Arthur considered them both lucky the foolish lad did not trip. With a clatter, Arthur dropped his cane and bag and managed to get down to one knee with arms spread wide in time for Peter to slam into him at full force.

"Good god, lad," Arthur said chuckling. He pulled Peter back by the shoulders to smile down at him and fondly the boy's wild sandy-blonde hair. "Who said you could grow so big? I was only gone a couple of months! Still fighting the good fight?"

Peter nodded in response, a toothy grin splitting his face in two as he grabbed his brother by the wrist. "You bet! Already on the third once this month!" Suddenly though, the boy's grin fell and he puffed out a cheek to the side in a huff. "This one won't leave though! I've tried everything Arthur! But now that you're home, he can leave, right? Because I'm way too old for a nanny; I'm almost seven now, and that's practically an adult! Plus you'll teach me all I need to know, right? Right?"

Footsteps on the stairs caught Arthur's attention, bringing his eyes to the top of the stairwell despite Peter's groans. There he found a young man, possibly no older than himself, staring at the two brothers in the foyer with wide eyes. The man's violet eyes locked suddenly onto Peter with an exasperated air about him, and the boy shrunk against Arthur.

"Peter! You can't keep running off like that!" He rushed down the remaining stairs to smile apologetically at Arthur. He was either invincible or ignorant to the pouty glare Peter was directing at him. "I'm so sorry. We were in the middle of lessons when he heard the knocking and simply took off running." Extending a hand, the man's expression suddenly lightened. "Tino Väinämöinen, sir. You must be Arthur; Peter talks about you all the time."

"I do not," Peter whined softly.

With a firm grip on his cane, Arthur pushed himself up to quickly shake Tino's hand. "Ah, I'm afraid you're right." Resting his hand on Peter's head, Arthur spared the boy a quick look. The child was clinging to his older brother's pants, suddenly stricken shy. "How on earth were you roped into this circus-act family of ours?"

Tino only shrugged. "When Peter's last nurse left in a fit, Eduard recommended me to his Lordship. The two of us grew up together in a way, and he insisted I at least give it a try."

Arthur nodded vaguely at the mentioning of the family accountant. However, as the words sank in, an eyebrow rose and he stared, slightly smirking, at Tino. "Lordship? Is that what my brother's been going by now?" With a fluid roll of his venomous eyes, Arthur's hand abandoned Peter's head to seek his satchel on the tiles. "Takes the title but lets the estate go to ruin. What has Allistor been doing these past months?"

"Mostly sitting in Father's study," Peter piped up. The boy bounced on his feet, desperately trying to take Arthur's hand back and drag him up the stairs. "He doesn't even come out anymore. Not even for Christmas! He just sits up there all day long. …I think he's broken." Blue eyes watered lightly as Peter looked up at his brother, frowning suddenly. "You'll fix him though, right Arthur? You're really good at that."

Smiling gently, Arthur nodded. "Of course; I'll knock some sense into that git he'll never forget. How dare he miss Christmas." He allowed Peter to latch onto his hand and lead him up the stairs, barely aware of Tino trailing on their heels. At the top of the landing, he turned to the boy and handed his bag to him. "Now be a good lad and bring that to my room for me while I go find our dearest brother."

Grinning ear to ear, Peter shot off down the hall, bag clutched to his chest.

"He really is such a sweet boy." Tino had fallen into place beside Arthur quickly. He glanced at the other and smiled warmly. "It's such a shame. I'm convinced he only acts like this to get his siblings to notice him. He's really quite the lamb when he wants to be. I think he gets the biggest thrill out of riling up Lord Kirkland, what with the way he boast about how he practically ran his last nurse out. He was so upset when I stuck through the first week." Chuckling at the memory, Tino shook his head. "Just needs someone to pay him a little attention. Ah, but listen to me rambling! Terrible habit, I'm afraid. Although…now that you're home, I suppose he's going to be trying to keep you all to himself."

Arthur turned away from Tino with a soft hmm in response. "He'll be disappointed when I have to go back to sea."

"Now you wait just one second! You can barely walk straight without that cane of yours. Don't make it sound as if you're only staying the night!" Arthur's eyes shot wide open and he turned to regard the other, frozen to the spot. His cheeks streaked red as he fought to come up with some proper biting remark, but in the mean time, Tino rolled his eyes away with a short laugh.

"Oh knock it off. Your face is going to freeze that way if you keep scowling. Though…it must have been quiet the scuffle to have you sent home so early, Commander. Maybe you'll grace me with the story some day. Ah, but, here we are."

Tino stopped suddenly, his attention turned to the wall. Arthur followed suit, finding himself looking at an dark oak door that broke apart the dusty, floral-print wallpaper. Turning to Arthur, Tino nodded to him and turned to walk away.

"I'll see to it that Peter doesn't ransack your belongings too badly. I would hate to see him ruin a surprise."

Watching him leave, Arthur frowned. Once again he felt the feeling of the old house leaning in on him. Quick to dispel it, he reached for the tarnished brass and crystal knob, only to have it pulled out from under his fingertips.

"-kick your teeth in if I catch you even thinking about that again! If Arthur only knew what you were plo- A-Arthur?!"

Face-full of bow-tie, Arthur readjusted his gaze to look up at wide emerald-green eyes staring down at him. In the room beyond, a chair crashed to the floor and curse filtered through the air. Quite suddenly, Arthur smirked and leaned on his cane with a chuckle. "Oh close your mouth, Dylan; you'll swallow a fly. Now what is this all about, oh dearest brothers of mine?"

Author's Notes:

Whelp, here's the second chapter, freshly revised and ready for reading. Since some of the names I use aren't really "canonized," I'll introduced them at the end of the chapter new characters are introduced in.

Names:

Manon: M!Belgium

Allistor: Scotland

Dylan: Wales

Disclaimer:

I'm pretty sure I forgot this in the first chapter, so I'll say it now. I have no claim on any Hetalia characters.