Warning the following chapter contains OCs that represent The United Kingdom of Great Britain (and both Irelands because at one point or another they were both a parts were once a part of the UK so no angry Irish people- my Irish friend gets angry enough at me for referring to the Irish as British for the whole Irish population, I promise you), to some of you this shouldn't come about as a shock as I know about half of you have read my other stories and have the UK sibling stories on your favourite/alert list and some of you have even commented on them… Well explanations will appear at the end… Now onwards to GLORY…
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. The United Kingdom.
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.Wales.
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They lie beside each other. The grass is long and practically hides them from view of anyone one who wants to pass by. Wales' sheep frolic across the field- England's still worried that the herd is getting bigger and bigger each time, what was his brother's obsession with sheep in the first place? He'd understand if it was for eating- lamb was quite nice, but to keep as pets? Give him a dog or cat any day.
"So Scotland's joining us now?" Wales questions, eyes closed, but his eyes are screwed up together- he's not sure how he feels about this whole United Union- England's all up for it, he hates France always collaborating with his brother- oh God he doesn't want to think of what France and his grimy fingers have probably done to him, Scotland's a little worried, but at least a tad grateful for the financial stability, but he's not deluding himself into thinking this is a good thing- he has to be English… British… they're practically the same thing nowadays…
"Yep," England's voice has a smile in it- no more useless worrying, no more fights over borders, no more questioning where his brother would appear next and what he'd do to kill him next- oh it was good to live without problems!
"Oh…" Wales feels he should enjoy having another of his brother's together, but admittedly England's been making tons of new brothers and sisters in new lands and he quite liked being the only "old" brother he could rely on and talk too… but now…
"He's not going to do something stupid, is he? I mean remember when he pushed you off the cliff? Or when he got so drunk he mistook me for France? And how the hell did he DO that? I look nothing like France!" Wales sighs. "And he isn't going to do something like when the two of you fought in the borders wars, right? And what if he abandons us for France AGAIN?"
England grabs hold of Wales' hand, strokes soothing circles into it. Wales' face flushes but is hid behind the long grass- hidden, a secret.
"We can forgive him if he does anything, just like how you've forgiven me for taking over your land…" England smiles, Wales smiles. And nothing seems bad for the time being, things might look bleak but they can't last like that forever, right?
"Right…"
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.Scotland.
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Scotland was slouched forward, hands clutching his head tightly, practically pulling his red hair out; he had his green eyes closed tightly. No one dared approach him; all were far too scared of the Scot that represented their Nation. He was in pain… a lot of pain… and he was far too willing to take it out on anyone who even approached him.
And, some poor soul found their self strolling towards the Scot. Their footsteps far too cocky and bouncy for his liking; he felt the presence of another Nation… a Nation he'd rather not catch him in the pitiful state he was in at the moment.
The steps stopped in front of him, he saw boots and the end of a red coat that trailed just above the floor; he heard the oh so familiar voice whistle.
"Scotland, ye falling apart!" the voice edged with a mixture of amusement, worry and shock.
"I blame you for this," Scotland managed to bite out, while looking up at his younger brother England, the man in question wearing a completely amused expression, though his eyes were frowning and he had his hands on his hips.
"I'm pretty sure ye Monarchy started our little wars by siding with France, and ye know I've always hated that bastard!" England growled slightly as Scotland stood up a little shaky on his feet but up nonetheless.
"No, you started this all off Arthur," Scotland glared so tempted to hit his brother but resisting the urge… barely…
"Oh? Me? How did I start all this off?"
"Your Monarchy went and started everything off by claiming to own me!" Scotland growled, England opened his mouth to protest, but shrugged and smiled.
"Whatever ye say Scotland," he patted his brother's cheek almost affectionately, almost mockingly- neither word quite right. Before walking away, Scotland glares, why the fuck did England come here- he didn't gloat, he didn't argue nor fight. In anger he grabs his departing brother's wrist.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going!" He grows, eyes lighting up in rage as England smirks back at him.
"I have bigger fry to kill than you or France right now," England's eyes take on a gleam that Scotland isn't used to seeing them- they look evil, dangerous and lustful- it's not a look he ever really wanted to see on his brother's face. "Spain's been making colonies and taking gold- now that's something I can't stand. So, I wish you and France the best, but I'm going to go and destroy an annoying Spaniard. And that's the news that I came to share with ye, wonderful isn't it?"
He rips free from Scotland's grip and leaves Scotland standing there- crushing headache forgotten and wandering how serious his brother has actually been while fighting him over the years…
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.Ireland.
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Ireland hadn't been planning to do anything drastic. Had planned to help his brother in the Great War- had planned to keep his brother safe and prove he wasn't just going to abandon him- was planning to work for his home rule- for God's sake if the Great War had happened a year later he would have his Home Rule and would've happily joined England in the war with no problem. But, it's just each promise of "the war will end before Christmas" was tormenting some of his people… Not even some, he could count the few on one hand, it's just even one of his people could be loud… a few was all it took to make it seem like something revolutionary was going on.
It wasn't for the record.
But they took over the post office- it was a stupid move. And his ever so sensitive brother took offence- they were in a war for bloody sake; he didn't have TIME for rebels. He had them killed, when they managed to scare them out of the building- no one in Ireland wanted them ruining their chance at Home Rule… No wanted them dead either.
There was a horrible uproar.
"You KILLED them! They're MY people! You fucking murderer! We've been fighting for so God Damn long! I thought we were finally getting along! I bloody well have been helping you with all your God forsaken politics! I helped you stop the House of Lord's veto! I helped your stupid Liberal Government get Bills for your fucking poorest through! You SHOULD'VE given me my bloody Home Rule by now! Those people should be MINE and MINE alone- they ARE MINE and MINE alone! You CAN'T just KILL them! I don't WANT to see your face anymore! Why the fucking hell are you even HERE?"
Turns out he needed more troops for HIS war.
Ireland's people didn't like that- they didn't agree. They HAD wanted Home Rule, they HAD wanted to stay a part of the British Empire just with control of their own land and identity, they HAD wanted to get along with the English. Those were just silly childish dreams now- they were never going to be anything, but now… they wanted complete and utter freedom now- the English COULDN'T be forgiven.
The IRA was born on these broken dreams.
England never knew how to deal with rebels. It's why he's caused so many horrible situations- some Nations were able to forgive him easily, some are still plagued with the endlessly worrying dreams of what he's done. Ireland- although his brother can't help but cry as his people are raped, brutally beaten and murdered, he guesses England took more traits from his old captors than he likes to admit.
England doesn't take the blame claiming the Black and Tans weren't following proper orders.
He doesn't do anything about them at first though. His people aren't happy with the treatment sure- but England's never been stable with independent Nations, so he's not in a hurry to stop everything. But Ireland sees the guilt- maybe it's because their brothers, he also sees the relish- maybe it's because Ireland never did anything for England when they were younger and he sees the insanity… that was probably the power. Ireland almost pities him, almost… not quite though, he take one of the guns he used to help England in the Great War the next morning and watches from an old ladies house- she wants freedom, she takes in refugees.
He has the gun held tightly in his hand, he notices the police officers- they're Irish but protestant Irish. Ireland doesn't consider the Protestants Irish anymore… they're British- English and they're talking to one of the men who raped and killed one of his girls last night. He takes aim, finger on the trigger.
"Oh, come out you Black and Tans;
Come out and fight me like a man;
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders;
Tell her how the I.R.A. made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes in Killeshandra."
And for his people he pulls the trigger. He kills one of England's men, one of his own with his own hands. A tear falls down his face- it feels horrible… but he smiles- this was for his freedom and for HIS people…
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.Northern Ireland.
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North has a cigarette- he shouldn't, he stole it from Scotland, Scotland's blaming Ireland and yelling at him. But, no North is the one who has it and is sitting outside the Kitchen window with it held between his fingers; he shouldn't have it on him. He also has England's lighter- it's has a rose engraving on it, custom made- quite nice, he shouldn't have that on him either.
He flicks it open and the flame jumps to life, only to blow out instantly because of the cold and harsh winds. He shuts it and opens it again it starts only to be blown out instantly- once again. He's in a sleeveless top- it's snowing, he's almost tempted to let the fire lick his skin warm, shouldn't do that either- maybe he should then, he has been ignoring the dangers in what he's been doing lately.
Why is he doing it? He hasn't a clue- he feels rebellious, maybe it's because of his people- rioting… maybe he's just going through a stage.
He puts the cigarette in his mouth, lets it hang there as he jump starts the flame again, this time using his other hand to protect the flame from the horrid wind and snow. The fire starts- it's pretty and makes the rose look as though it's been caught on fire- he doesn't like that it makes him think of England being on fire- he'd never want England to be set alight.
He lights the cigarette and flicks the lighter shut- pockets it, he doesn't want to give it back to England, wants to keep something of his in case he ever goes back to being Ireland's- he really doesn't want that… He doesn't know what he'd do if that happens… He also doesn't know what to do with the cigarette.
He takes it between two fingers and breathes some in- he coughs and chokes and takes another drag. It's horrible- he takes another. Absolutely horrible- another. But he feels relief of some kind that he's never felt before- he coughs and chokes again.
He probably shouldn't have stayed so close to the house- but it's cold and he's scared he'll get lost among the snow covered roses and never find his way back to the house- so it's no surprise that England cooking in the Kitchen sees the smoke billowing in the air and comes out to see what was causing it.
He takes the cigarette from him, tells him off, sprays him free of the smell and keeps it a secret from Scotland- Ireland takes the blame and North can't help but grin about that. England also doesn't comment on the lighter- let's North keep it. I don't need nor use it anymore, is the excuse when Wales questions why he hasn't gone looking for his lost lighter. North's happy he gets to keep it, happy England doesn't tell Scotland and Ireland about it and is thrilled that England cares enough to yell at him.
He really doesn't know what he'd do or be without England…
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Why am I not surprised these were asked for… Really every time I do requests these four get asked for, why you insane people XD DX
So longer chapter as promised, but that's probably because I fused four stories in one- you know you enjoyed them. Scotland one is for HoshiUta and the Wales one is for Avalon-Avalanche and you can share the Ireland ones! Hope you both enjoyed!
Wales is base before Scotland joins the UK- because my mind went blank and I couldn't think of ANY Welsh history for a while. Scotland's is based on one of the many Anglo-Scots wars, I believe there was one where the English were more concerned about the Spanish and I really have completely forgotten when it was set DX The Ireland one is my favourite, I'm sure you all know of the IRA, but how did England originally fight back? With the Black and Tans (called so because their uniforms were a mixture of the police and army's), also Ireland was meant to be given Home Rule, as promise, like a month after WW1 started thus it got delayed again and I shan't give you all the details to THAT story because there's a lot of stuff going on- and Ireland quoted a poem about the Black and Tans at the end by the way! Also as an afterthought I don't like the IRA (though I understand why it all started) they killed one of my favourite Lords- the one who sorted out India and Pakistan's independence, and I know lots of fun stories about him and his wife because my Nan's friend used to be a maid there (and because of that she got to meet prince Phillip once XD)! And I got fed up with history and just threw something random together for North, so I hope you all enjoyed!
The brother is fine now by the way- well kinda has some tablets to help. The weather wasn't TOO horrible today, though random rain again and frost was everywhere and when I passed this old lady today (because my Mother has been sending me EVERYWHERE to do stuff today) I smiled and nodded at her (as I do to anyone I pass) and she yelled: "BLOODY WEATHER!" So I politely yelled back: "I KNOW!" I found that quite hilarious! Um… Um… Again hope you enjoyed… this chapter is being put up earlier than the last few ones and isn't nearly as rushed and someone said they're worried I'll run out of ideas- probably won't because I enjoy rare pairs and know England's history FAR TOO WELL! The thing you need to worry for is if I'm to have time for things next week as 1 week left of crazy college stuff DX
Anyways, enjoy review, read (as I'm sure you have seeing as you got this far) and all that jazz!