"Alright Alvi, I'll be back later. Be good for Arthur and Papa, ok?"
"Bye, Matteh-oo. 'Huv a gutday.'" Sko tried 'his' best to say the goodbye perfectly, but 'he' still ended up mispronouncing the last part.
"Bye then. Oh! Bye Kumamana!"
"Who are you?"
Matthew didn't even bother with answering the bear.
Closing the front door and pasting the note on it, Canada hoped that the two babysitters would get along, if just for the day.
"Knowing Arthur and Francis, they probably won't. But Alvi can handle them, I bet."
He drove off just as Arthur and Francis (respectively) arrived. Both waved at the departing canadian, then walked up the porch steps, England matching France's pace to prevent the frenchman from getting within groping distance of his behind.
Arthur pulled off the note, smiling lightly in a proud way at the clean, neat writing. It was good to see that some of his teachings stuck. Francis skimmed over the note, humming.
"Honhonhon….it zeems zhat Matthieu does not trust you as much as moi, Angleterre~"
"Shut it Frog! The note even says not to leave you unsupervised for too long!" Matthew had obviously thought over the fact that his 'papa' would often 'lose' his clothes.
The two bickered for a while longer, and were about to come to blows, if not for Alvi opening the door.
"Loud," 'he' said simply, 'his' emerald orbs staring them down. 'He' opened the door wider after a minute, letting them in.
"Bonjour Alvi! Remember moi? Je suis Fr-"
"Frenchie. Hallo Artur. Gut day?"
Smirking internally at Francis' annoyed expression, England corrected the pronunciation of his name. "It's 'Ar-thur', poppet. Yes, today's been alright, thank you."
Settling into the living room, Arthur saw the journal Sko had been scribbling in, and some worksheets to help her with her english. Picking one up, he read the word 'cow', and looked at the picture. Then he shuffled to then next one. "Telephone," Sko prompted, startling her babysitter. Feeling silly about playing with the cards, England set them down.
"So what would you like to do then, Alvi? We could go to the park, or I could show you how to make sco-"
"Oui oui! Let's go to zhe park! Excellent idea, Angleterre!" France gave his rival some pats on the back, silently praying that he wouldn't have to try too hard to keep the 'Black Sheep of Europe' out of the kitchen.
But, just as the nations went back to the front door, the sky clouded over. Skogurland sniffed the air, and closed the door.
"Det kommer att regna."
"Pardon me? What did you s-" the sky decided to have its turn interrupting the english gentleman, and let out a large thunderclap.
Francis looked desolately out the window, cursing nature for her evil timing.
"Oh well then. How about we make some scones to pass the time then. Come along Skogur," Arthur beckoned the 'boy' to follow him into the kitchen.
"Noooooon! Angleterre! I vill not 'ave you poisoning 'im wit votre horrible cooking!"
"Oi! My cooking is fine! Your food on the other hand..."
And on it escalated.
Sko grew bored of watching the older blondes bicker, and turned back to her learning cards. She flickered through, mouthing the words. Tree. Boat. Apple. "Ba-na-nan?"
"C'est dit 'banana', " France offered, seeing the confusion on the young nation's face. (It's said 'banana'.)
"Ba-na-na. What?"
"It's food. A fruit, to be precise," Arthur popped into the kitchen for a second, and returned with the food in question. He handed it over to Sko, who turned it round and round in 'his' hands. 'He' put it up to 'his' ear, thinking it to be like the little machines 'he' had seen people talk into.
The adults held back their laughter as best they could. "Not quite, Alvi."
Francis took the food and peeled it, then returned it, motioning for the child to take a bite. Alvi watched the men's expressions, checking that they weren't pulling a joke, but when she found them to be sincere enough, she ate the fruit.
It was….weird. Alvi generally didn't eat that many plants, let alone fruit. Plus, sweet things were extremely rare in her homeland; the most popular foods were dried fish chips and meat patties.
The mushiness surprised the child most of all- bananas so soft, her teeth weren't quite sure what to do, there being almost no point in chewing the light yellow food. Swallowing that first mouthful, Sko ran her tongue around her jaw, cleaning out the mush.
Noticing that Arthur and Francis were watching 'him' expectantly, Sko nodded. "Gut."
Arthur relaxed a bit, and his mind flashed back to when America was a child.
"Hi Iggy!"
"Hello America! Don't call me that."
"Did you bring me anything Iggy?"
"Yes, but only if you behaved."
"I did! I did!"
"Here you go then."
"Oh boy! These soldiers are so cool! Thank you England!"
Francis saw England go deep in thought, remembering. "Honhon!~ J'ai une chance maintenant~" (Now's my chance)
So while the brit was occupied, the frenchman snuck off to the kitchen to prepare some lunch for the three of them.
"C'est temps pour montrer petit Alvi du vrai cuisine~" (Time to show lil' Sko some real cooking)
-0-
-0-
When Arthur came out of his memories, he saw that France had disappeared and Skogurland had turned on the television, and was now watching some children's show.
"This is the letter 'E'! Is it in this word: House?"
"Ya!" Sko said to the screen, thinking that the program was actually talking to 'him'.
"Yes! It's right there!"
England tried his hardest not to laugh, letting out only a few giggles from between his fingers. He sat down on the couch and waited out the show, giggling at the parts that Sko would talk at.
Eventually, the screen went dark. The timer had been set, meaning that 'enough tv, time to do something else'.
Alvi knew this, but Arthur hadn't the foggiest.
Crouching down behind the electronic, he grabbed the cord closest to him and followed it, growling lightly when it led back into the tv instead of into the outlet. Pulling some wires away, he found the timer, and he inspected it, searching for some clues as how to operate it.
"I swear, this is more work than setting up America's video games!"
Seeing that the television was off, Skogurland decided to see what Francis was up to, since she didn't want to have to clear up any shenanigans he might have produced. Though, it turns out, he had done some seasoned chicken pieces for lunch, absolutely popping with spices and herbs.
"Ah, te voila, Alvi. I made ssum poulet for lunch! With our chere Angleterre in your family line, you deserve to sample de la vrai cuisine~" (real cooking)
"Ah….um…." Sko wasn't sure how to react. Luckily for 'him', Francis simply ushered them both to the table, calling for the older island nation in the next room as he sat down. "Arthur~ come eat~"
A large 'thump!' came from the living room "Bloody hell!"
France watched Sko peek around the corner, and looked for himself when he saw the child's face contort with withheld laughter.
Poor Iggy was caught up in all the cords from the tv and its attached equipment, and now he was splayed out on the floor, trying to free himself. Francis went wild.
"Honhonhonhonhonhon! Where's mon cellulaire (phone)?! Je dois prendre une photo!" (i have to take a picture!)
While Francis scrambled to his coat, Alvi took pity on her British babysitter and pulled him free, just as the frenchman came back. Arthur brushed himself off, his brows furrowing in annoyance at his rival's lack of aid.
"You git! Why is your first instinct to take a picture?!"
"Eet was trop drôle (funny) mon chere Angleterre~"
"Bloody Frog…...thank you, Alvi."
"Gut." Sko gave a thumbs up, having learning the gesture that morning, before the tv turned off.
"Right then," Arthur straightened up and strode into the kitchen.
"Let's see what horrible atrocity you've cooked up, France."
" 'Ey! At least I don't burn cereal!"
Sko ate a few bites if the chicken, chewing so slowly that England became suspicious. "Alvi? Are you alright lad?"
Sko nodded, and swallowed the food, trying not to make a face. It wasn't that lunch was horrible, but the younger nation had never had something that flavorful before. Sko managed another three forkfuls before she had to stop.
"You can't cook for diddly squat, git! Look! Even Alvi agrees with me."
France looked to her for affirmation. Not knowing entirely what the two were talking about, it was pure coincidence what her next words were.
"Is fine. Pekka per (thank you), Francis."
-0-
-0-
Alvi sat on the floor and watched the adults with mixed feelings.
After lunch, the two men had gotten into bickering for bickering's sake again, with led to them rolling about on the floor, exchanging blows. Just as Arthur was about to punch again, he heard his rival giggle disturbingly.
"What's so bloody funny, Frog?"
"If you wanted to 'ave a tumble with moi, you could 'ave just asked, honhonhonhon~"
England realized that he was sitting on France's stomach, holding the bloke's shirt collar. He immediately scrambled off, but not before giving the 'perverted git' a deep dark shiner, right over his left eye.
"Mon visage! Mon jolie visage! Ah, merde!" (my face, my beautiful face! Damn!)
Francis got up, clutching his eye, and went to the main foyer to check himself in the mirror. Upon seeing the darkening skin, he squealed, and passed out from shock.
While England went to the washroom to clean himself up, Sko dragged her other babysitter back into the living room, propping him up on the couch. Arthur sighed disparingly into his reflection, knowing that America would be mad at him for fighting with Francis again.
"Bloody french git, it'll be his own fault if his face looks like pudding in the morning," he grumbled to himself, pulling out some plasters. Walking back down the hall, Arthur saw a small bundle of white fur clean itself, licking the dirt clear. It was only when it saw the human and asked 'Who are you?" that Iggy remembered that it was Canada's bear.
"Oh, hullo, Kuma. Where have you been all day? It's almost three, isn't it-"
A large 'CRACK!' interrupted the Brit, and startling the polar bear to go back into hiding behind some mauve curtains.
"He's evil," the bear growled mysteriously, as Artie went to investigate. The rain had stopped, so what was that? It couldn't be thunder….
-0-
Outside, Alvi Shakily stood up from her position of lying on the ground. She glared at the branch next to her, which had broken off when she started climbing on it.
Sko heard Arthur come running out of the house, but ignored him. She needed to stretch her limbs, to do something with her body. She clambered up higher, until she reached a lone branch, sticking out in a manner that made it the only one on the one side of the tree. Perfect.
"Oi! Sko! Get down here!" the Brit hopped about angrily, semi-remembering when America would pull similar stunts as a child. Skogurland's grip failed for a half instant, but she caught herself. Sitting on the branch, she watched her hands grow slightly bigger, her arms extending an inch each. She was getting bigger, her body maturing.
It wasn't unusual for a nation to grow slowly, staying the same physical age for years, even centuries at a time, and mature quickly, but Alvi didn't know that. She was quite worried about how much she had been 'aging', and wondered how much longer she could keep her secret.
"Þeir verða ekki að ég er stelpa ... það er skylda mín sem þjóð að vera sterkur, og eina leiðin fyrir mig að sanna að ég er er ef ég er ekki veik lítil stúlka ...*" It made Sko sad to not truly be herself, but it was for her people, she told herself.
Pushing the thoughts out of her mind, the child swung her growing body around, catching the lone branch and using her momentum to swing all the way around it.
England had commenced his own climbing to catch Sko, but he kept sliding down. When he saw the calm, serene expression on Alvi's face, 'his' eyes closed, England stood a ways back from the tree, watching. He knew that Skogurland was very athletic, and probably nothing would happen, but the parent in him just wouldn't let this be.
"Skogurland! Get down right this instant before you hurt yourself!" Sko ignored the scolding and kept swinging round and round, feeling the wind through her hair.
"Hmmf," Arthur grunted, thinking up a plan B. "Well, if France is...occupied...I might as well use the kitchen to make something, seeing as Alvi didn't eat much at lunch." He walked back into the house and mentally recalled the recipe for his infamous scones.
-0-
-0-
France woke a while later to the smell of something burning. Sitting up, he gingerly felt the swelling around his eye, remembering where he was.
"C'est quoi qui brule? Attend- (What's burning? Wait-)" His eyes went wide -or as wide as the left one could, due to the shiner. "Arthur!" He bolted, tripping over a re-emerged Kumajiro, who promptly hid again.
Reaching the kitchen, France's worst nightmare came to life;
England was just taking a large batch of black lumps out of the oven, waving the smoke away with one hand.
"Noooooooooon!" Francis squealed rather feminantly, almost passing out again. England jumped, startled, and addressed his rival, his good mood from baking disappearing.
"Ah, afternoon, Frog. Don't startle me like that; I almost dropped the scones! Do you want one?"
"Merde, Angleterre. Zhose are not edible! I 'ope you do not plan on giving one to pauvre Skogurland?"
"Of course I do! He barely had any lunch, so I thought I should get at least something into his system!"
"'Something' is right! I told you not to poison 'im!"
"My scones are perfectly fine!"
While they bickered, Sko finished up her exercises in the tree, letting go and flying a few feet before performing a landing like one she had seen on tv. That's when she heard the adults yelling.
Creeping into the house softly, quieter than a leaf, the only noise she made was the low growl at Kuma when she spotted him. They just didn't get along, for some reason. When she finally entered the kitchen, she watched the two bicker for a while, playing tug-o-war with the tray of scones. A few flew off, but Sko caught them, diving to the floor.
"There you are, Alvi," England spoke, stuck in France's head-lock. "Those are scones, you can eat some if you li-" he wheezed, the hold growing tighter. He flipped both himself and Francis back, coming loose and rolling away to protect the rest of the batch.
Sko gave the dark lump a big sniff, looking to England for one last reassurance before taking the whole treat in in one bite.
Her eyes went huge.
Chewing quickly and loudly, Alvi smilled as best she could while keeping her mouth closed, in utter bliss. She loved Arthur's scones. She swalled once she was able to, and grinned widely, displaying teeth flecked with dark chunks contrasting brightly against the pearly white.
"GOOD! IS A-MAZ-ING! I can haz more, pekka per, Arthur? "
France practically exploded.
"'ow can you enjoy zhose rocks frohm 'ell! I cannot take zhis anymore!"
Cursing in angry french, he stormed out of the house, calling his buddies as he went, to meet up for some cosolatory alcohol and clubbing.
-0-
-0-
After France left, Iggy felt rather drained, and decided that no harm could come if he took a quick power nap on the couch.
"It's not like the lad burn the house down…." he mumbled as his eyelids fluttered shut.
-0-
Alvi wandered down the hall, munching on another scone, three more cradled in 'his' arm. 'He' peeked into the bathroom, and tried to reason why on Earth anyone would have a hard bowl of water just sitting there in their house. 'He' knew that this room was used for...erm…#1 and #2 from the occasional smell, but had no clue how.
Alvi fingered the mirror, watching her reflection do the same. It had been weird to be introduced to mirrors at first, but she had grasped that they weren't portals quickly. Her index finger accidentally hooked around the back of it, and opened the cabinet.
Looking inside, she found a hole manner of strange objects, and picked up each one in turn, her scones sitting forgotten on the toilet lid.
First came the brush, too small for cleaning a weapon swiftly,
Then the tube of smelly paste, a dollop of its contents tasting funny on Alvi's tongue,
Then the weirdest item of all;
a shiny set of tiny blades, set in the end of a stick.
She picked the razor and turned it around and around, wondering what this could possibly be for. She knew better than to touch the metal parts directly, but she felt the urge to run it along her arm. Doing so trimmed away some of the fine blonde hairs, making Sko 'Ah' in realization.
Walking back to the living room with Matthew's razor, she understood how so many men didn't have beards. Spotting Arthur asleep on the couch, she crouched down and lifted some hair from his face, smoothing it back gently.
Revealing his large, bushy eyebrows.
Sko looked at the caterpillars, then at the razor, then back at the brows.
-0-
-0-
"Arthur, Papa, Alvi, Kuma! I'm home!" Matthew loosened his tie as he took his shoes off.
"Hallo, Matteh-oo. Gut day?" Alvi peeked out from behind some coats, hiding in some shame.
"Er, yeah….Hey, uh, why are you hiding-"
"Welcome back Matthew! The Frog left a while ago, so we had some peace today, which was lovely. Iggy rubbed his eyes sleepily as he came in, just waking up.
Matthew tried his hardest not to laugh.
"Uhhhhhhhhhh…..where's Kumahito?" he tried not to stare, but failing. I mean, who wouldn't stare, when the man who is known for his horrible culinary skills and atrocious facial caterpillars suddenly was eyebrowless?
"I'm not sure, I saw him only once today, and all he said was that- what's wrong? Are you alright Matthew? You look as though you've seen a ghost!"
"I-It's nothing, Arthur. Uhh, thanks for watching Sko today," Matthew answered, his voice cracking slightly.
Iggy stepped forward to grab his loafers, catching his reflection in the hall mirror as he stood up. He gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish, rubbing the skin above his eyes in horror.
In shock and embarrassment, he flew out of the house, barely grabbing his coat as he ran.
"That little giiiiit!" was the last thing Matthew heard as his former guardian passed out of view. Closing the door, he shifted the coats out of the way, revealing the culprit, looking down in shame. She gave back the razor.
"förlåt," she said, not meeting Canada's eyes.
The pat on the head caught the child by surprise, looking up to see a gentle smile. "Nice try, Alvi. But you took too much hair off."
(0)
*They must not think I'm a girl ... It is my duty as a nation to be strong, and the only way I can prove that I am is if I'm not weak little girl ...*
(WHO-AH! THIS TOOK ME ENTIRELY TOO LONG TO WRITE! Being grounded is no fun….it took me over a month of odd chances to type what should have taken only a day….Thank Odin for Google Docs on my phone and at school...
Next chapter is the Italy twins, though I feel kinda bad for abusing those two so much in my stories, so I might just switch them out….
I do not own Hetalia, nor any of its characters, no matter how many stars I wish on. I do own Skogurland though, so that's something….)