I do not own Hetalia Axis Power and Queen Victoria has been dead for 116 years.

1838

Defeated the duchess of Kent looks on at her daughter as she walks down the aisle of Westminster Abbey. Her daughter the queen is over 18 and is no longer in danger of a regency. For years all England could do was sit back and watch the conniving Duchess of Kent and her Irish secretary Sir John Conroy plan their now useless attempt at controlling the young girl. Sir John is not at the coronation because he was not invited.

Victoria came to the altar and begun the ancient process of anointing the sovereign. England had seen this so many times. Everything around the ceremony has changed, fashion, people, and whole ideas have come and gone. The magic however was still there. He still marveled at how a person was made into a near god.

The crown was placed on Victoria's head. Everyone placed their coronets on their head and began to chant.

"God save the queen."

"God save the queen."

"God save the queen."

The abbeys bells gonged loudly as the cheering crowds of London waited to see their new queen.

After the coronation England went to check on the young Victoria. When he stepped into her room she found her washing her dear dog Dash a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

"Your Majesty," he spoke to her.

"Please come in. I am just giving dash his bath."

"Even on coronation day one must find time for their companions." The two laughed and Victoria began to dry Dash.

"How did you find the ceremony my friend? I can't believe we skipped a few pages," the queen shook her head.

"It has been over a century since we have had a queen. Therefore the ceremony was special. I will remember it for as long as I live." The door opened and her child governess Baroness Lezhen bowed to the both of us.

"Victoria cleaning the dog as a queen?" Lezhen asked in astonishment.

"Well of course Lezhen. I am the only one who knows how to do it properly. Isn't that right Dash?" She combed through the long fur around his ears.

Later that night Victoria summoned England to her chamber for a visit.

"My queen?"

"Please have a seat with me my friend." England took a seat across from Victoria. "It is only the first day of my reign as a crowned queen, but already I have doubts."

"What are they ma'am?"

"Who will I marry? Mama is already talking about my cousin's Albert and Ernest."

"The boys from Saxe-Coburg?" England asked.

"The very same. It has been about two years since we last saw them. Mama and my uncle King Leopold have both high thoughts of them."

"Well it is natural to think of marriage for a monarch at such a young age."

"Why must I marry England?" Victoria asked in a sigh.

"It the duty of a monarch to provide my country with the next heir. In this case any husband you choose will be called the Prince Consort and not king."

"It seems pretty apparent that my only choices are Albert or Ernest. A Danish prince also offered."

"Danish? What was his name?" England asks.

"His Serene Highness Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg."

"What does he have to offer to our country?"

"Oh very little I am afraid. He is out of the question I will admit. A union with Russia?" Victoria asks.

"In the end even I won't decide if the marriage is right. The people's opinion also matters. They won't like foreigners but it is something they will need to handle."

"I see."

"I hate to admit it but your mother may be right. The Coburg boys must be invited to the country. They may have changed since last time. I shall speak to her and will invite them soon."

"Have Lezhen be brought in I am feeling tired." England nods and kneels to the queen and kisses her small hand.

"Goodnight my queen." He walks out of the room backwards. He will continue upholding the tradition of not turning ones back towards a monarch.

1901

The queen is asleep. England continues his walk down Osbourne House. Years of paintings and photographs hang on the wall. He finds on portrait that hangs large on the wall. It is a large painting depicting the queen and Prince Albert with their children in 1846.

"There is the prince of Wales," England whispers. The boy is small with blond hair and standing next to his mother. The prince today is old, balding, bearded and a heavy smoker, though a good friend to England.

"Such a simpler time," England thought.

"Such a sad time though," England whispered. He walked away from the painting and went to bed.