Two years later, I'm going to update. I have fallen out and back in love with Hetalia, and with my senior year of high school closing and my 18th birthday next week, I'm finally going to do as I please and I am going to write to my hearts content. I'm not a well known writer, nor the most talented, but I do hope to make stories that you guys love with characters that don't get enough love. I apologize in advance, I'm from Texas and we tend to use words that are not technically words and I tend to slip and use them in my writing. I will try my hardest not to. Anyway, I hope 17 year old me writes better than 15 year old me and I hope I can do these characters justice.

If you want me to write a story with a certain character or a certain plot, don't be afraid to ask. I would absolutely love to write whatever you guys want.

Ciaran: Ireland

Dylan: Wales

Allistor: Scotland

Arthur: England

Enjoy

Dylan never thought he could possibly find solace in his elder brothers when he was younger. Both Ciaran and Allistor were all rough words, hard fists, and scowling faces. Dylan rarely took any comfort from the two, much preferring to sit alone and deal on his own. On the rare occasions that Dylan greatly needed to have strong arms wrapped around his small frame, he shuffle along to Ciaran, his eyes misty and his bottom lip hanging out. Ciaran would reluctantly gather the shivering form into his arms and place a gentle hand upon his back. Allistor knew of these rare occasions, but seldom said a word of it. Allistor never truly cared if his brothers came to him or not, much preferring the peace and quiet of his own solitude. When Dylan was wrenched from their household and forced to live under the roof of Arthur, Allistor regretted everything. He regretted not being the one to hold the boy when he cried, or being the one to gently mend his wounds when he hurt himself. When Ciaran saw the obedient Welshman, stiff and tidy next to Arthur at the first world meeting after Dylan was taken away, everything within him snapped. He knew he could not stand by and watch, he could not roll over and let Arthur tear apart the family their mother created. Ciaran went to war, Allistor ended in the same place as his Welsh kin. Allistor had wished to hold Dylan and wipe away his tears, but not like this

Dylan's fragile and youthful state of mind had cracked the moment he was forced from his elder brothers, his tears unwillingly flowing down his cheeks in thick streams as he sat in the rocking carriage. But Allistor held the quivering form in his arms, his chapped lips burying into the youngers unruly auburn hair. Allistor thought of the days when Dylan smelled of bright green grass, sheep, and freedom. When his cheeks were full and his smile so bright and happy that the two elders thought his face would split in two. Now the boy lacked the luster of a child. His eyes were dull and his hair was flat and matted and his skin pale. The younger boys freckles had long since faded much to Allistor's disappointed. Allistor had loved to tell Dylan that he had been kissed by angels, the reward being the bright smile Dylan would give.

Ciaran strode confidently, a bright smile gracing his perfectly freckled face at the thought that he was free, he could strut through these very halls with no chains attached. He was permitted to see his brothers once a month, far too little for his taste, but it was better than not at all. His shoes clicked on the polished marble floor. The sound annoyed the hell out of him, and they rubbed his heel in a way that he knew could only end in a blister, but he wore them for one reason only: the clicking of the shoes echoed and it was sure to rub the nerves of either Arthur or his insipid queen.

"Ciaran! Dammit!" came an angered yell, causing the corner of the Irishman's lips to curl upwards. Arthur, just the man Ciaran was hoping to come across. Ciaran turned with a flourish, making his coattails spin around his body in a display that he hoped ticked Arthur off. Ciaran gave the most sickeningly sweet smile he could muster, his sparkling emerald eyes landing on the smaller and annoyingly more powerful man.

"Arthur. I would say it's nice to see you, but quite frankly, it is not" he mumbled, followed by the click of his tongue

"Why are you here?" Arthur growled, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It was clear that Arthur was not pleased with the Irishman's presence, and that thought pleased him very much.

"I have come to see my brothers, Dylan and Allistor that is" he said loudly, hoping his voice carried down the hall and to that woman's ears.

"Tread lightly, Ireland. You could very well not be allowed to see Dylan nor Allistor" Arthur growled, causing Ciaran to bristle defensively. Ciaran's cheeks flushed defiantly and his back straightened.

"You wouldn't dare" Ciaran growled from deep in his chest, the sound rumbling lowly. Arthur's lips curled into a sneer, his deep green eyes twinkling dangerously

"I would. So watch what you say, and please for the love of God, do not wear those shoes in this palace again" he snarled, and turned with a flourish that put Ciaran's own to shame.

All of the nerve that Ciaran had been able to build up in the short twenty foot walk from his confrontation with Arthur to his brothers closed door slowly drained from his body quickly, leaving him anxious and clammy. His palms were wet with sweat as his knuckles rapped on the door gently, soft at first and slowly growing in volume the longer he knocked. Allistor opened the door with a sharp yank, his own tired green eyes meeting his siblings face. Shock quickly flew across his face before it was replaced with something akin to amusement.

"your knuckles hit the door a total of fifteen times before I opened the door" he observed, raising a single unruly red eyebrow. Ciaran felt his cheeks flush from the attention given to him by his brother, his mouth flapping open several times, looking for a response, but not finding one

"Come in" Allistor said softly and stepped aside, giving the man enough room to squeeze in. Ciaran's eyes roamed over the room and took in the stale stench, the peeling wallpaper, and the stained wood.

"They finally gave you a room" Ciaran mumbled, his eyes darting to his older brothers face before going to the small lump on the bed that was Dylan.

"Only because Dylan became sick in the cell and they couldn't risk him getting any worse" Allistor mumbled quietly, a frown tugging on his lips as he sat on the corner of the bed. Ciaran felt his eyes mist, the familiar sting causing his cheeks to flush once again,this time in embarrassment. He turned from the peeling walls to stare at the Scot, his breath hitching slightly

"I'm so sorry" he gasped out, his chest heaving with the effort to make out the words. Allistor frowned, clearly concerned with his brothers change in mood

"For what?" Allistor nearly whispered, a frown crossing his face.

"I should be here with you two. I'm your brother...and I ran. " Ciaran gasped out, his chest clenching painfully. Allistor's frown turned into a small sorrowful smile, his large hand slowly reaching out to land on the youngers shoulder

"Ciaran...I'm so proud of you" he whispered, his hand pulling the Irishman into a hug. Allistor gripped the man tightly, his long arms squeezing his brother tightly and firmly against his broad chest. Ciaran nodded slowly and sank onto the bed next to the Scot so the hug wouldn't be as uncomfortable.

"I love you, Allistor" Ciaran whispered, his chest slowly uncurling from it's grip and his breath slowly going back to normal