The first thing that Arthur notices is that his front door's unlocked.
He's far too used to other nations popping around to consider it to be a burglar. Sometimes the nations visited for the most ridiculous of things like the time Prussia had turned up simply to brag about 'gilbird.' Romano had once turned up and stayed for a week for no apparent reason. France occasionally got it into his head that England couldn't cook and liked to just leave a meal pre-cooked in his kitchen for him. (England would never admit it to anyone, least of all France but France was a rather good cook and England did quite look forward to the times there was a plate of food left for him even if France claimed that it was simply that he couldn't bear the stench of smoke that was likely to waft over the channel if England attempted to cook.)
Whoever it was this time though had been kind to him though. Whether they had stolen a key from him or picked the lock he wasn't sure but thankfully this time his front door was unharmed.
Slipping inside England placed his briefcase full of work documents down, hung up his coat and placed his shoes on the shoe rack before heading on a hunt of his house for his unannounced visitor.
He started in the kitchen but unfortunately there was no plate of food left for him. Following that he tried the lounge but the TV was off and there was no evidence in the room as to who it may be. Sighing, England treks up the stairs to check out the guest bedroom, he wouldn't put it past certain nations to just move into his house without telling him.
When he heads down the corridor though there's a distinct sound coming from his own bedroom and England frowns at what is very clearly some sort of ambush…
And a clearly not very well though out one judging by the amount of bumping and thuds. Sealand perhaps?
He approaches the door hastily before Sealand could do anything well… really terrible, England can't really think about what could possibly be going through Sealand's mind. What hare-brained scheme could he have come up this time? Surely nothing could get worse after the paint and glitter incident!?
Everything's suspiciously calm as he bursts into the room without a trace of a presence in the room. Which would be an issue because the lack of magical aura means that it's definitely not one of his friends.
England glances around the room searching for anything out of place when his eyes fall on the wardrobe. It couldn't be…
"America what are you doing in my wardrobe!" England yells yanking open the door and taking a step back as America tumbles out and falls at his feet.
America sits up and rubs the back of his head giving England a sheepish and lopsided grin. "Well you see, I watched this movie of yours about a place through the wardrobe so I decided to check it out!"
"…You were trying to get to Narnia at the back of my wardrobe." England states unsure whether to believe him or not – not that he's entirely sure he'd believe any reason for the American hiding in the back of his wardrobe.
"Yes that's it!" America exclaims exuberantly climbing to his feet, "There were the Pennies and a lion and a witch!"
"They're the Pevensies, actually," England corrects surprised that America was actually telling the truth, "And the lion is Aslan."
"Yep! So I was trying to get to Narnia!" America says cheerfully jerking his thumb back at the wardrobe behind him, "But your wardrobe is like, tiny, I can barely close the door in on myself let alone get through to Narnia."
"That's because you've got the wrong wardrobe…" England says slowly staring pitifully at the mess of crumpled clothes in his wardrobe. He'd ironed and hung them all up beautifully so that there had been no creases at all.
Making his mind up England decides to leave convincing America to fix the wardrobe and his attire until later, far more joyful at the concept of America being interested in the magical half of England. "Follow me," England orders grabbing a hold of America's sleeve and dragging him through the door and back into the winding corridors of his house.
He's certain by the muttering behind him that America is well and truly lost by the time they reach England's destination, which is good because it could be potentially disastrous if anyone found this place by accident. Dangerous enough that he'd charmed the door to explode if anyone other than him touched it.
England took great care of the many gifts he'd had presented to him over the many years. He had Excalibur stored away carefully not to mention the Holy Grail safely stored in a secret part of his basement. It was not like it was rare for a nation to look after some of their nation's most reassured possessions, it was polite not to ask but England was certain that France had some of the French Crown Jewels stored away that had supposedly been destroyed and Russia almost certain was looking after some of the missing Faberge eggs.
There would come a time one day when the nations returned the secret treasures to the people, at least most of them. England himself had a vast number of treasures he knew he couldn't return for various reasons. Most for reasons he would struggle to explain to people, a lot of the items he had were legendary and magical and to put quite bluntly, unbelieved in in this modern age.
What would the world do if he returned to them the Philosopher's Stone and the Book of Abraham?
What would they do if he returned to them the portal to Narnia?
But just America would be okay surely. If England was there with him then surely little could go wrong by introducing one more person to the magical nation of Narnia?
"Wow it looks just like the one in the movie!" America exclaims as England pulls off the sheet covering the wardrobe.
"That's because I gave them a picture of it for authenticity." England says with a touch of pride at his own little stroke of genius. So he couldn't actually give them the real thing, it didn't mean they couldn't have what looked like the real thing.
England twists the knob and tugs the door to the wardrobe open gesturing a hand to America, "After you," he says.
America gives him a broad grin and steps up into the wardrobe pushing past the heavy coats and pressing forward to find the end of the wardrobe that he's already examined from the outside.
He can hear England climb up behind him and then the soft click as England closes the wardrobe entrapping them both in the dark of the old coats.
America turns around to where he thinks England is and smiles when he can just spot the other nation in the dark. "So, don't be too disappointed 'cause as cool as this movie set is Narnia isn't actually real so you can stop believing in all this weird stuff and we can watch the movie together so you don't get too upset 'kay?"
England stares at him for a moment, eyes blinking in and out of sight in the darkness and then gives a heavy sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected you to actually believe," He complains shuffling forward into the space right in front of America. "Step back would you?" He asks pushing lightly on America's chest.
"Look I get you're upset and all," America says shuffling back to avoid having his feet stepped on. "But knocking me into the back of the wardrobe and giving me concussion isn't very nice."
"You're not going to hit the back," England murmurs pushing him backwards again while America waits for his head to collide with the back of the wardrobe at any moment. He can't be that far from the back now.
"Keep going," England coaxes moving forward a little bit quicker forcing America to stumble backwards a little faster as well.
It's a recipe concocted for disaster and America can't even bring himself to feel surprised as he manages to trip over his own feet and fall backwards. Falling onto the wood was definitely not going to be a nice experience, he was going to get a nasty bruise on his but he just knew it.
Instead he lands on something soft.
At first America thinks he's landed on one of the fluffy coats piled into the wardrobe, it wouldn't be that odd for one to have fallen off the hanger.
The problem would be that it's cold. And it's wet. The touch of it on his hands has skin feeling icy cold and he can already feel that his jeans are getting socked through from the snow beneath him melts.
Snow.
It was June and America was certain that even with the unpredictable weather they got at England's place it didn't snow in June.
"Can you see the lamppost from there?" England questions that smug smile on his face that he gets when he's right and America's wrong.
America tilts his head back to spot the lamppost and sure enough there it is, the light is dim in the icy landscape and it's covered in frost but there the lamppost is, just like in the movie.
"Yeah, yeah, okay," America says trying to sort out all of the newly acquired information in his head as he can feel the smugness radiating off England, "I think the cold makes it real enough," America shivers knowing that this is way too cold to be some kind of special effect.
"Cold?" England asks, suddenly worried.
"Yeah, it's freezing, give me a hand will ya?" Alfred asked brushing snow off.
"It's not supposed to be snowing." England says absently ignoring the American on the ground and pushing past him to gaze at the frozen trees and frosted lamp.
"I don't really care so long as we can go back Iggy, please?" America tries, picking himself up and glaring at the snowdrift he'd fallen over into.
"Back?" England asks distractedly.
"Yes, back to warmth," America says, "look I'll admit, you were right and I was wrong so can we go back now? This place is like Canada."
England shakes his head slowly still staring at the lamp.
"Grab a coat if you're cold." He says grabbing a hold of America's arm without actually giving him a chance to reach back and grab a coat. "We need to go see Mr Tumnus." He continued, dragging Alfred further and further into the depths of the wardrobe that led to Narnia.
Hmm... I don't really know how to feel about this one. I really liked the idea but somehow when I wrote it, it came out a bit weird... hopefully it's still okay :)
Basically sue to some magical mishap they end up crossing through to Narnia in a time before the Pevenies arrived so it's currently still controlled by the Queen. Maybe I'll turn this into a thing someday but I say that about a lot of mine and they end up half done because I have a nasty habit of enjoying writing middles but not beginnings...
Yes it's a headcanon that nations hoard items of historical importance and England in particular collect ones with magical properties. Also that America doesn't believe in magic until it's shown to him and he can be a bit of a dick about it. Also that he doesn't like the cold.
See you tomorrow! Although probably late because I'll be out for the day. (not that I don't upload late every day but...) - Sekaira
Rainy1 - I'm glad you liked them all, sorry that your requests ended up a bit backlogged, I'm not really sure why it was only yours that seemed to end up that way... I'm sure they'll be more stuff coming related to AU's like those :)
Hiiro Kira - I'm sure I can do that!
Lavosse - I'm glad you liked it :)
