a/n: thank you Tamer Lorika, Daisies and minoki for your reviews! uhh i hope this chapter explains more stuff... appreciate your feedback loads. anyway, enjoy!
England feels strangely restless as he wanders about the forest, America and Germany by his side. Austria seems to be feeling the same and Prussia is sticking close to his brother, crimson eyes shifting uneasily. The emerald eyed witch feels oddly amused as he observes the differences between the two brothers. Unlike America and Canada, where there were a significant amount of physical similarities between the two, Germany hardly looked like his older brother, although it may have been due to how Prussia was an albino.
The sound of leaves rustling breaks England's train of thought as he looks up sharply only to find that there was no one around except for the five of them.
"We're not alone," Austria turns to the sandy blonde, who nods. "Will your shields hold in the event of an ambush?"
"They should," England replies and America is about to speak when they are interrupted by a flaming arrow speeding past. "Bloody hell," the emerald eyed witch swears under his breath.
"It's a challenge," Austria's eyes narrow. "I accept," he calls out, stepping forward when another flaming arrow speeds past them.
England smirks. "So I see that someone out there is brimming with confidence," he nods. "I accept."
A teenaged girl appears in front of both witches, dark blue eyes glittering dangerously. Her long, platinum blonde hair is held back by a white hair bow and in her hand is a knife instead of the bow and arrows Austria and England expected to see. "My name is Belarus," her voice is cold and icy.
"England," the sandy blonde smiles, looking as if he is amused by his challenger. Belarus wore a dark blue knee length dress with a white apron tied around her waist. It looked typical of a village girl, but somehow, Belarus didn't quite fit the bill as one. Then again, Austria didn't quite fit the bill of a witch who wanted to die either. The brunette wore a cravat tied in the latest fashion with a white dress shirt, along with a finely tailored suit and a well cut cloak. If anything, he looked like an aristocrat who belonged in the higher echelons of society. But it wasn't as if Austria was the only one. His 'inheritance' had ensured that he could live comfortably and dress well for the rest of eternity and he had did just that.
"Austria," the brunette nods in acknowledgment. There is something about Belarus that unsettles him, just like how his interaction with Sweden and Finland unsettled him but as for what it was, he couldn't tell.
Belarus looks at America and at Germany, then looks at England. "You have two familiars?"
The sandy blonde shrugs. "It isn't against the rules."
"Very well. I shall duel with the both of you at the same time," she nods. A leash appears in her hand and she yanks hard against it.
Austria frowns, wondering what Belarus' intentions are. He has enough cards to advance into the third round of the Games by now and so does England, he has no idea how many cards his challenger has but surely, to risk everything by taking on two challengers at a go? It was almost suicidal.
"Russia," Belarus calls out and a tall man with beige blonde hair appears by her side, led forward with a tug of the leash she holds, attached to a collar on his neck. Russia lets out a soft growl and Austria immediately realises what it is that makes him so uncomfortable.
"England," Austria looks at the sandy blonde, who returns his gaze with an equal amount of discomfort. "They're both-"
"Yes, I know," England replies and forces a smile on his face. The way America is looking at Russia is extremely foreboding and if anything, England really wanted to avoid having the wendingo consume his opponent because having your 'familiar' consume another's familiar never bode well for anyone. "America," he addresses the strawberry blonde sharply as he turns to look at England, squinting slightly.
"Yeah?" America asks.
"Don't eat anyone."
"Don't worry, he won't be able to," Belarus smiles, sending chills down Austria's spine. Prussia inches closer to Germany, who places a protective hand on his brother's shoulder, much to his annoyance. She releases the leash and with a snarl, Russia transforms into a huge, bear like creature. "Brother, it's playtime."
Canada jerks awake with a start. He finds that his legs are folded forward and when he tries to straighten them-
"Mon petit lapin," a soft voice calls out and Canada's heart starts beating faster, from a strange sort of anticipation for the torture and from the mind numbing pain he just experienced from trying to straighten his legs. There is a bar behind his thighs, at the base of his ass and something that feels like a cuff device is attached to the base of his scrotum and fuck, it really hurts. "I see that you've been acquainted with the humbler," France murmurs, observing how Canada mewls in pain.
Canada doesn't reply as a cool hand strokes his ass gently, fondling it. A sharp, resounding slap follows and Canada screams as blow after blow hits the exact same spot until the skin is bruised and ruby red.
"You've been thinking of someone other than me, haven't you?" France murmurs, speaking as if he has read Canada's thoughts and knew how he dreamt of America, touching him, holding him close, caressing the wounds on his body... Canada shivers in fear, hoping that America was safe, somewhere far away from the monster that was holding him captive but at the same time, he wishes that America was coming for him. "I suppose I'll have to teach you just who exactly you belong to then," the blue eyed witch's hands wander upwards. Upon finding a hardened nub on Canada's chest, he smirks.
"Ahh, mon petit lapin," France's fingers tease the nipple, scraping his nail over it, pressing it down ever so slowly before rubbing his thumb against it. "It seems that even though your heart belongs to someone else, your body belongs to me."
Canada tries to shut France's voice out by thinking of America, returning to his fantasies of what his brother would do if he hadn't attacked him out of sheer hunger back then, during that cool evening but it is futile. France's fingers dance lower and they encircle his cock, rubbing against the already leaking slit, oh how Canada hates himself, spreading the wetness across his tip.
"You must learn to forget, mon cheri," France's voice resembles that of a low, seductive whisper and Canada wonders if he can ever learn to love another, apart from his brother. There was England, of course, who treated him with kindness but it wasn't really what he sought, it was something more, something like... Something like the way France treated him. Sure, it was painful but each time France came to him, it was as if he had eyes for him and only for him. He gulps nervously as France pushes a finger into his entrance. It goes in easily, because he has developed a habit of leaving his seed within Canada, punishing him if he lets it drip out of him. That was, if France didn't spill it over his face instead of within him. Canada wonders when he has become such a masochist; he remembers crying when America bullied as a child but they were children then. The finger is withdrawn and Canada expects another finger but instead, France's cock enters him.
Canada moans as with a single thrust, France hits his prostate. Canada wonders if he can come to love someone he has never seen in his entire life. He doesn't know his captor's name, he knows nothing at all and yet some part of him was beginning to long for his feather light touches... France thrusts into him, setting a rhythm and Canada rocks his hips backwards only to have France bring his palm down against the injured spot on his ass once again.
"Mon petit lapin, you do not move unless I give you the permission to do so," France admonishes, voice mocking and Canada starts to doubt if he can really learn to love him. Perhaps, if he manages to retain his sanity throughout the vicious cycle, maybe, if America couldn't save him, maybe, maybe, maybe... The blue eyed witch continues thrusting, fingers occasionally brushing against Canada's cock, squeezing the sensitive tip, torturing him, pushing him to the brink and keeping him there as France pulls out and spills white all over his ass.
"Please," this time, Canada begs without being ordered to do so. "Please, I beg you, let me-"
France brings Canada to his climax with a few strokes of his palm. His mind is elsewhere, thinking of the power he could gain from winning the War Games and how he would use it... He shudders as Canada growls and the blue eyed witch snaps his fingers, releasing his familiar from his bonds.
"Go, mon cheri. You must feed," France whispers as Canada leaves the dungeon, mind filled with thoughts of nothing but his terrible hunger.
Russia lunges forward at Prussia, deciding that he was the weakest opponent. The albino dodges, transforming into a panther in mid leap as Germany joins in the fray, taking his brother's form as well.
"Fuck," America swears as he jumps in front of England, pushing the emerald eyed witch away, taking a blow from Belarus, who manages to stab him in the arm.
"America!" England cries out as he calls upon the power of ice, sending a mini hailstorm in Belarus' direction, who promptly turns it around towards Austria. The brunette deflects it easily, turning the ice into a puddle of water as he summons Ghost Fire, causing America to freeze.
England groans as he pulls America aside, leaving the violet eyed witch to deal with Belarus as Russia engaged Prussia and Germany in a fight, lunging at each other, leaping and growling, trying to sink teeth and claws into soft skin.
"America, get a hold of yourself!" England shakes the strawberry blonde hard. Of all times to be afraid of ghosts, America had to show his fear in the middle of a duel... With a frustrated groan, England crushes America's lips against his. When they break apart, the sandy blonde is aware of Belarus' gaze upon him and he quickly mutters a spell, sending a blue orb of energy her way. "America. Are you alright?" England asks, voice urgent and America nods numbly.
"Just don't let me see that again," the strawberry blonde smiles weakly as he winces in pain from the wound caused by Belarus' knife. He presses a hand to his stomach and laughs shakily when he finds it covered in blood. "Oh fuck, England, I don't think I'm going to make it..."
The emerald eyed witch grits his teeth in frustration as Austria attempts to divert Belarus' attention by bombarding her with orbs of energy infused with Ghost Fire. They seem to work, for each time a green sphere hits the platinum blonde, she yelps in pain, which makes Austria all the more convinced that the unsettling feeling he felt was not wrong.
Meanwhile, Russia claws at Germany, managing to draw blood. Prussia howls in fury as he pounces on to the bear, sinking his razor sharp claws into the fur as Russia thrashed about in agony.
Austria focuses his gaze on Belarus and a tiny smile graces his lips. "You're not exactly a witch, are you, Belarus?" he asks coolly.
Belarus stares at him for a moment, before reaching forward to grab his cravat. Austria sidesteps and for a moment, it looks as if she is about to fall before she regains her balance again. "There is no place for conversation in a duel," she replies and the brunette laughs.
"Of course, my lady," the violet eyed witch's glasses gleam underneath the sunlight as he sends a gigantic orb of Ghost Fire straight into her gut.
The platinum blonde's eyes seem to bulge out of her sockets for a while and she spits out blood on to the ground.
"As I thought, you are one of those," England seems to appear from out of nowhere. His hand slides down Belarus' waist and she turns around, slashing at him with her knife but he dodges easily. "Tell me, what do you hope to achieve from entering the War Games?"
"We don't have to answer to the likes of you," Belarus shoots the emerald eyed witch a glare, which he laughs off.
Inside, England knows that it is just a bluff. He doesn't know if Austria can defeat Belarus, he doesn't know if Germany and Prussia will be able to defeat Russia but he knows that if they don't, he will suffer a fate much worse than death. He has given America as much blood as his body allows even though he knows that sex will be a much better option and now instead of fighting against Russia or Belarus (it would be far too risky anyway, he might just eat them), America was fighting his hunger somewhere in the forest.
"No, you don't," Austria nods as he whips out his rifle, using it against Belarus' knife. "Just as how you don't have the right to enslave your brother as your familiar."
The dark blue eyed witch freezes for a moment, allowing Austria to send another orb of Ghost Fire her way.
"How did you know," Belarus splutters and England wonders what is it that allows suicidal people to summon Ghost Fire. Maybe it had something to do with how close they were getting to Death, so it allowed them to use one of its resources.
"From the blank look in his eyes," Austria's gaze hardens. "Even though the positions between the both of you are interchangeable, where either one of you may act as a familiar and the other as a witch, he wasn't a willing party. You enslaved him."
A giggle escapes Belarus and soon it turns into pure, maniacal laughter. "He wouldn't marry me," she whispers, as if she is telling Austria and England a secret. "I had to find a way, any way."
"Enslavement is against the Law of Magic," England murmurs and he is met with a sharp stab to his side from Belarus' knife, which misses his side narrowly.
"I love him," a crazed look spreads over Belarus' face. "If I win, maybe, we can be together, for real..."
Sweden's words ring loud and clear in Austria's mind. Do you believe in the power of love? Austria grits his teeth. "To bend another to your will with the power of the Crystal is unforgivable."
"And who are you to judge me?"
Austria hesitates for a moment, giving Belarus the opportunity to wound him. Prussia arches his back in pain, taking the damage for the violet eyed witch and Germany rushes to defend his brother as Russia leaps, landing on the injured Prussia.
"Bloody hell," England groans as he summons more ice to use against Belarus but the speed at which she is retaliating is absurd, he is losing energy fast and when he is certain that she is about to stab his heart, a bear appears out of nowhere, jumping on to Belarus.
Belarus shrieks as the bear plucks her knife from her with ease and throws it aside. When she attempts to cast a spell against it, it bites her shoulder and she screams in pain.
"What in the-" England wonders how a wild bear could have miraculously come to their rescue as Belarus tries to summon energy to fight against the bear but fails. Austria's Ghost Fire had indeed, done its damage.
"I surrender," she screams and in a flash, it is over. Russia lies against the ground in his human form, curled up in a ball as the black skull fades from his neck. Belarus' purple cards are distributed between England and Austria, while her red one disappears into thin air.
The bear gets up from its position above the platinum blonde and she makes her way to Russia, attaching the leash to his collar once again. With a flash, she is gone, leaving the two witches with their familiars and America, still struggling to suppress his hunger on the ground.
The bear transforms into a familiar looking man and Sweden steps out of the bushes, much to Austria and England's surprise.
"Did I scare you?" the man asks and it is only then that the both of them realise that it is Finland. Austria looks at Sweden, suddenly realising what the turquoise eyed witch had meant when he asked him the question. Even without a bond, Finland had the power that only a familiar could wield.
"No," England answers. "You saved us."
Austria turns to England. "The Erl King's horn..." he starts, but England shakes his head.
"I know," the sandy blonde tries to smile. "Someone will be taken by the Erl King into the land of Death. A child, probably. And we can do nothing but watch what fate has planned go by."
"Sweden," Finland begins as he pours the slices of carrots and radishes into a pot. "Do you think it was alright to leave England and Austria just like that?"
Sweden shrugs as he closes the door to the kitchen quietly and walks over to the shorter man, putting his arms around his waist. Austria and England left the inn that night, thanking the duo for their help, saying that they should get on with their journey. "Maybe," he says.
"S-Sweden!" Finland squirms in the taller man's arms, blushing as Sweden licks at his earlobe affectionately. "Nn... But for me to have attacked that girl..." he trails off worriedly.
"She's one of the Unspeakables," Sweden's hands slide lower, going under the apron, slipping past Finland's abdomen. "She may have been the witch in that fight, but whatever damage she took was her own, because she can be both a witch and familiar..."
"But isn't their participation illegal?" Finland gasps as the turquoise eyed witch's hands drop lower as his tongue continues to tease the smaller man's earlobe.
"The Erl King's horn was sounded. It's anyone's game," Sweden sighs as his hands deftly undoes Finland's trousers, leaving him in only a light pullover and the flimsy pink apron.
"Wait Sweden, not here, anyone can walk in-"
Sweden silences Finland with a gentle kiss. "I locked the door," he says, eyes sparkling beneath his spectacles. Finland feels his breath hitch as the turquoise eyed witch's hand closes around him, fingertips brushing against where he was aching to be touched.
"But Sweden, they... I-" Finland stops speaking only because Sweden presses his fingers to his lips and he slicks up the digits, paying extra attention to the turquoise eyed witch's middle finger.
"We'll do what we have to when the time comes," Sweden reassures him as his fingers leave Finland's mouth. Finland wonders what Sweden is about to do when the taller man's arms leave his waist and when Sweden touches his tongue to his entrance, he moans, hips jerking forward.
"Sweden!" the word is torn from Finland's lips as the turquoise eyed witch swirls his tongue at the entrance, fingers teasing his arousal, rubbing at the underside. When the appendage enters him, Finland moans again as Sweden prepares him, fingers joining in as well, probing, stretching, scissoring before hitting his prostate, causing him to moan again.
The turquoise eyed witch reaches for a tiny bottle of scented oil in his pocket and within moments, he frees his erection and slicks it up with the oil as he removes his fingers from Finland.
"Sweden," Finland's voice is now a soft plea and Sweden throws the bottle aside, entering the smaller man slowly. When Finland's hips buck forward, Sweden moves within him, increasing the speed of his thrusting as he wraps his fingers around Finland's hardened length, pumping it. "Sweden," Finland whimpers as the turquoise eyed witch's grip tightens on his hips, thrusting harder, hitting his prostate and with a few more thrusts, Sweden goes over the edge, taking Finland with him and the only sound filling the kitchen is that of their erratic breathing.
"It has been an awfully long time, hasn't it?" Sweden asks, holding Finland in his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter.
An unmistakeably pleased sound escapes Finland's lips as he settles into Sweden's warm embrace. "Indeed," he snuggles closer. "Indeed."
a/n: ehehehehe. hope you enjoyed. please review?