Author's Note: Guys, thank you very, very much for being patient with me through and through. This chapter will include my promised confrontation between Arthur and Alfred and I'm not sure about how you would receive it. Well, it's the first half anyway. Than again, you can tell me all about it by pressing the review button. :D Anyway, I hope you like it.
Belated Happy Birthday to Scarves and Roses! My story just turned one this past October 7th.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
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England had his face buried in his folded arms, radiating utter humiliated horror and do-not-talk-to-me-if-you-want-to-live aura simultaneously. He was so bloody stupid, yelling about t-that kind of thing and not noticing- GAH! He wished he could die or at least, for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Damn immortality! It's overrated anyway!
"So England, when did all of this start?" He heard Hungary ask casually, and he could almost imagine her with a little notepad and pen already poised in the air. Japan was probably with her already but laying low in the background, camera in standby mode. He already knew about him and Ivan of course, courtesy of yesterday but he always seemed to gain more confidence asking such embarrassing things when he was in Hungary's company.
Hungary was such a terrible influence.
Of course, before Hungary had set her claws on him and monopolized him, all the other nations, obnoxious as they were, were already after his story and offered their own version of congratulations that sounded ridiculously like euologies, much to his annoyance.
It went something like this:
From Poland: "Wow, like, I totally didn't see this happening at all. Well, better you than Liet, I think. Good luck with that."
From Estonia and Latvia: "I'm glad Russia-san found someone he could be with. Just hang in there, England-san!"
From Northern Italy: "Ve~ Arthur-san's very, very brave, right, Ludwig? I'll be sure to ask the Pope to pray for you!"
From Southern Italy: "You sure have the lousiest luck to end up with a bastard like that. But then again, you were a bastard, too. Always thought you'd be with the American dumbass, though. That's karma."
From Spain: "Lovi, don't be rude! Inglaterra, would you donate your navy to me if things don't go very well? It would be fitting payment for my Armada."
From Prussia: "Kesesese, shit, England. I didn't think you'd be masochistic enough to stay with him. Guess I was wrong. To each his own kink."
Then, he'd exploded: "Shut the bloody fuck up, you bloody gits! I don't need anyone to wish me luck, to pray for me and it sure as hell isn't karma! If that was the case then you'd be the bane of Spain's existence, Southern Italy. I've always heard him complain about you. No, you can't have my navy- as if anyone in there right mind would do something like that when you can't even handle your own back then! And you! What are you even doing here, Prussia? You aren't even a nation! To the rest of you, mind your own business!"
"I think it would be in everyone's best interest if England is not upset any further than he already is. We don't want any unfortunate accidents, da?" was Ivan's proverbial two cents, said with a bright, innocent smile and a childish voice, the thick aura of danger almost tangible.
The eulogies had died into unintelligible murmuring immediately after. Arthur thought he was weird to find Ivan's threat coupled with that smile hot but he did.
Damn. Before long, Ivan's creepy laugh would probably grow on him or something.
"I knew you had something going on with the spy games you used to play together. I just thought they were rumors or something, you know? Did your relationship begin then?"
'No, it did not!' he wanted to shout at her. It had been fun admittedly, the rush at catching and being caught was something that was missing in his life for a long time before the wars took a toll on him and he'd wanted nothing more than to settle down.
"What? What spy games? Why haven't I heard about any of this before?" Alfred spat. Arthur hoped for his former colony's sake that the drop of something that landed on his nape was not the soda from his mouth. Or else there would be hell to pay.
"Of course, you wouldn't know about it, wanker," he mumbled loudly enough, moving slightly in his current position just so he could see Alfred's face. "It was during your civil war."
"Oh." Arthur could've sworn Alfred's eyes darkened slightly at his admission but he decided to ignore it for now. Whatever it was bothering him, Arthur was sure to know one way or another.
"Yes, 'oh'. Now, can we please move on with the meeting? It should have begun thirty minutes ago," Arthur said miserably. He did not whine. No self-respecting gentleman would whine.
Matthew sighed. "We can't start yet. Francis' late."
"That bloody, flower-sucking frog would choose today of all days to be late! I ought to wring his thick neck and do everyone a favor," England muttered as he finally lifted his head and met Ivan's gaze across from him, gloved hand lifted and waving lazily.
Cue the blush and then Hungary's gushing and Japan's clicks. Ivan did that on purpose, the tricky bastard. How could he possibly be cool and composed even after being exposed in such a fashion? And why the hell did he have to sit directly opposite Arthur's seat where he could easily see him? Not that it was his fault. Arthur was sure the bloody frog had something to do with this.
The conference room surprisingly fitted over one hundred ninety countries and settled them in one U-shaped conference table made specifically for just this one occasion. The open side made way for the podium and the ceiling to floor white screen and a projector hung from the ceiling on standby mode connected to a small computer.
Alongside the functionality of the room, it must also be said that the interior was also quite breathtaking with well made replicas of famous art pieces and sculptures from all over the world that offered a rest for the eyes.
France had obviously prepared for the occasion. The only problem was…
"Why the hell is France late to his own conference?" he muttered, lowering his eyes to the set of documents in front of him, ignoring and stubbornly refusing to meet the violet gaze aimed at him.
The only consolation to this whole thing was that France hadn't been there to witness anything and embarrass him further. That, and Belarus was nowhere to be seen since, now that he recalled, Ivan didn't inform her about the world conference. It was in bad form, now that he thought about it, but he had a very good reason to be happy. He didn't want to deal with horror alongside the drama in his life.
After a few more distinct clicks on the camera, Hungary announced that she and Japan had enough pictures for reference with their new project and it was "time to hit the history books!" Arthur had no idea what they were talking about but he was just glad that they were already off with the brunette chatting while the reserved Japanese nodded in agreement.
It was a surprise that Switzerland had not interjected yet but he doubted that the Swiss would interrupt anything he deemed trivial or unimportant.
"Pardonez-moi, tout le monde! (1)" France yelled enthusiastically from the open double doors. "Ah, it is fabulous to be fashionably late, oui?"
The other nations barely spared him a glance and went back to whatever they were doing.
"Wieso kommst du so spät? (2)" Germany spat indignantly, slamming his palm on the table top with a fierce scowl on his face. "We've been waiting for nearly an hour! Get inside so we can start!"
France pouted at the German. "Germany is such a killjoy!"
The tall blonde ignored him in favor of addressing the loitering crowd of nations chatting with each other and generally making fools of themselves. "Everyone, go to your assigned seats!"
Startled, the nations rushed to their seats marked by tiny flags and in less than ten minutes, all were ready for the coming onslaught of presentations.
As usual in any meeting they'd ever had, Arthur was flanked with Alfred on his right and Matthew on his left with Francis on the Canadian's other side. The others… well, Arthur never really paid attention to where they were placed. Although there were some rearranging thing going on with Hungary taking up Kiku's left while Northern Italy took his right and Austria sat beside Hungary to stay away from Prussia who was sitting by Spain and… never mind.
The most important seat to Arthur was the one occupied by a certain Russian who was right in front of him. Granted, there were about four feet of empty space between them but there might as well have been none with the way the island nation felt that intense gaze on him, making him self-conscious.
And judging from that smirk and yes, he was sure it was a smirk, Ivan was aware of what he was doing. But how to tell him to quit, Arthur didn't know yet.
The meeting progressed fairly quickly and with minimal interruptions or arguments in Arthur's opinion and it looked like they were going to be finished for the first half in time for lunch. And when Germany announced that they take an hour, everyone was surprised and ecstatic, nearly jumping from their seats and chatting amiably out of the room. He shook his head, amused, and began stacking his papers and setting them aside in favor of the next batch of presenters. Somewhere above and behind him, Alfred and Matthew were arguing where to eat while France offered his own advice.
Alfred wanted cheeseburgers, as usual, and Matthew wanted anything except cheeseburgers. France suggested they should go to one of his favorite restaurants in the area but he was ignored yet again. Arthur figured he didn't know anything about the incident this morning, else he'd be bugging the Englishman about it, which was a surprise because all nations loved to gossip.
It wasn't long before the island nation noticed that it had gone incredibly quiet. He looked up from his notes and found the remaining nations in the room looking in his direction and he turned around to find Alfred and Francis staring at something with hardened eyes and Matthew nervously switching his gaze between them and that something.
"Arthur, would you like to have lunch outside?"
Huh, so that something was actually someone. How could he possibly have missed that? He turned to Ivan who was looking coolly at Alfred and Francis.
"Arthur is going with us for lunch, Russia," said Francis. "You have been monopolizing his time for the past three days, have you not?"
"And you have been with him for centuries," Ivan countered, sweet smile still in place, the voice equally so. "I'm sure he can spare a couple of days with me, da?"
And then there was that thick tension again and Arthur was sick of it and them referring to him as if he weren't there. Honestly!
Francis was about to say something when Alfred interrupted. His blue eyes were hard as he stared at Ivan. "I want to talk with Arthur alone."
Violet eyes, smoldering and intense, studied Alfred carefully before he nodded. Arthur looked from one to the other, confused. What the hell was that about? And why did Alfred call him "Arthur"?
He was about to ask when Matthew, his dear, sweet Matthew, stepped forward, standing tall and proud as he looked at Ivan. "I'd also like to have a word with you, Ivan, now that you're here."
"Of course," was the easy reply and Matthew moved forward to lead the way.
Ivan turned to him reassuringly and reached out, his larger gloved hand taking his and giving it a light squeeze that he answered back. Then he let go, following Matthew out the room.
"Come on, Iggy, follow me," Alfred called, taking his other hand carefully and pulling him off his chair. He turned to Francis. "We'll meet you once we're done."
"Non, it is alright. I have to catch up with Gilbert and Antonio anyway," the Frenchman dismissed airily.
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Alfred led Arthur up a flight of stairs and out a small door. The sunlight was bright and the Englishman found himself in a secluded part of the building's rooftop with a small balcony overlooking the garden. He looked around, blinking.
"I had this place scoped up when I got the invite," Alfred said suddenly as if hearing his unsaid question. "Knew all the entrances and exits in case of emergency. I doubt even France knows this part of the building so we can talk a bit without eavesdroppers or getting interrupted."
The Englishman looked at him in surprise and remained silent. The silence was thick with tension and Arthur, for the life of him, did not know what Alfred wanted to talk to him about or what he should say to broach the subject. Well, he did have some idea but then, he knew that it was only the tip of whatever was bothering Alfred. When did talking between the two of them ever became this difficult?
And Alfred… he was so somber and there was a pain in his eyes that Arthur could not comprehend but felt all the same. It made him feel so guilty for some odd reason.
He was saved from pondering such a depressing thought when Alfred spoke. "You know, since I gained my independence, I've always wondered what the two of us would be like in the future. I always thought that I'd definitely surpass you, make me somehow worthy. I didn't know why I tried so hard, why I wanted to try so hard, just that it was all for you.
"Everything I've ever done was for you, to reach you as soon as I can. So I wouldn't have to be just another former colony. So you'd acknowledge me as my own person or nation, however you want to see it." He chuckled but it was dry, humorless, pained. "I guess I waited too long. I always thought, 'no, this wasn't enough, not yet', and I never thought that someone would take you from me."
Arthur's heart pounded painfully in his chest, eyes wide as he tried to make some sense of what Alfred was telling him. Was it what he thought it was?
"Alfred…"
"No, hear me out, okay? Please," the American whispered brokenly and that voice, so agonized brought tears in Arthur's eyes. "I always thought, as lame as this sounds, that it's gonna be you and me against the world. It's kinda like the fairy tale that I wanted for myself, you know? The United States of America and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, always together despite all the mess, all the wars, everything. The so-called Special Relationship." He paused and those blue eyes softened behind those frames, glittering with tears. "And now he's here and I don't have the right to stop him because I'm a coward and I let this happen."
Alfred turned away from him, facing the balcony. "But I have to say this to you and you're probably going to hate me." He faced Arthur and there was a soft, resigned smile on his face that broke Arthur's heart all the more. "I love you, Arthur. I always have."
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Author's note: Darn. Had to imagine that I was Alfred talking to Arthur in that heartbroken fashion and actually made myself cry. Dunnow how you guys are going to react to this but your comments are always welcome. Thanks again for being patient.
Tell me what you feel about this chapter, if it seems rushed, if it's lacking something or if it's not what you were expecting. That way, I know where to improve and stuff.
Translation Notes:
Pardonez-moi, tout le monde- loosely: "pardon me, all the world" or "pardon me, everyone"
Wieso kommst du so spät? – why are you so late?