Hey everyone! Sorry I'm late again (I think it's becoming a habit)! This is a short chapter, but the next will be longer.

Thank you to the many people who reviewed/followed/favourited!

Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz.

Warnings: none.

Chapter 7

Lukas was fed up. Ever since his arrival, the other inhabitants, or patrollers as they called themselves, had been overly friendly with him. They seemed to live in some happy bubble where nothing bad could ever happen to them. He found himself stuck with the always cheerful Mathias Køhler, who insisted on showing him the ropes, the stoic and intimidating Berwald Oxenstierna and the friendly but dangerous Tino Väinämöinen. The latter still didn't trust him, but kept his dislike hidden behind a smile.

"Luka! I'm going on patrol! See ya later!" the ridiculously loud Dane yelled from the corridor as he ran outside.

"It's Lukas, you idiot," the Norwegian sighed in response.

How he couldn't remember such a simple name was beyond the shorter male. Well, at least he was left alone for once. Berwald was having a look at the gates and Tino was busy with a group of farmers who had caught the flu.

He walked out to one of the big windows overlooking the beach. Where was Emil? Had he escaped? What about the Lady? As much as he hoped they were in HQ searching for him, he doubted that was the case. If only he had managed to bring them along with him!

No. There was no time, he scolded himself interiorly.

The thing that irritated him the most, though, was that he had been caught unawares. He had believed their mission to be safe, yet they had been ambushed.

If only I knew who the mole was.

He had suspected them having a mole in their ranks for a while now. It had only been confirmed after his house had been broken into. Luckily, he preferred writing his plans in Trolsk, a language he had invented just in case something like that ever happened.

He really hoped the Resistance had collected those papers. Whether or not they'd be able to translate them was a different question, but at least the Army wouldn't have them. He had no doubt India would crack the language eventually, so it was vital he didn't get a hand on any of those papers.

And thinking about the Army, why didn't the Patrollers know about it? Sure, they lived in the Atlantic Ocean and he doubted they would receive much news from the outside world, but the Army must have tried to contact them at some point!

The Isle of Hetalia. Think. What happened?

He hadn't researched the safe-isles, something he now regretted.

Hold on! Hetalia? Weird Italy? Or was that Useless Italy? But then that means… Romulus Vargas! That rich mad Italian who bought an island for himself and his sons! No wonder the patrollers have no idea what the Army is! The Army is terrified of him!

A rare smile spread across his face. He was safe here. He could make plans without those annoying soldiers getting in his way.

Don't worry, Emil. If you have been captured, then I will rescue you. And I will destroy anyone who stands in my way.

"Um, Mr Thomasson?"

He jumped as a shy voice interrupted his thoughts. Turning his head, he recognised the brown-haired man with green eyes.

Toris Laurinaitis. Lookout. Lithuanian. Hardworking but taken advantage of all the time.

"What is it?" his voice was monotonous, not giving anything away.

"Mr Kirkland has requested for you to visit him," Toris shot him an apologetic look.

"Who?" Lukas was confused.

He had met most of the people who lived in the Palace but had never heard the name "Kirkland" before.

"Arthur Kirkland. He lives in one of the villages. He sometimes asks to meet new recruits."

"I'm not a new recruit."

The Resistance member was adamant on that. He wasn't a patroller. He fought against the government. His stay here was only temporary.

"I know, but he's still asked for you to see him," the Lithuanian tried to reassure him.

Realising that there was no way he was getting out of this, Lukas reluctantly accepted. He should have known that peace and quiet wouldn't come that easily.

"Do we have to do this, Liz? Can't we just give him directions and hope he gets there safely?" Gilbert grumbled.

He didn't want to see Arthur Kirkland again. However, both he and Elizaveta had to escort Lukas to the Brit's home, much to his disappointment.

"No, we can't. Now stop complaining. You wanted to ask Lukas about the Army anyway, didn't you?" the brown-haired woman rolled her eyes.

Gilbert huffed and looked back at the Palace doors. Toris was leading Lukas over, explaining the situation to him. The stranger seemed even less happy than the patroller at the news.

"Thanks, Toris. You ready, Lukas?" the green-eyed lady smiled at the two men.

"I guess," the blond quickly mounted the horse they had brought out for him.

The German resisted the urge to snigger. It was obvious the newcomer wasn't used to riding. He was wobbling in his seat and holding the reins too loosely. After the patrollers had given him a quick lesson in not falling off, they set off.

"Have you ever thought about investing in cars?" Lukas sighed.

"Nah, horses are way more fun. And they're better for the environment," the albino laughed, patting Arger's neck.

"Most of the world's population is dead, the forests destroyed and petrol used up, and you still worry about the environment?" the blond shot back in disbelief.

"Well, we're alive, aren't we?" Elizaveta shrugged.

"What's Arthur Kirkland like?"

There was an awkward silence. Should they be honest or not?

Oh, to hell with politeness!

"He's a nutcase. Completely bonkers."

"Gilbert!" his friend scolded.

"What? It's true!"

"Maybe, but that's no reason to say it!"

Before their argument could escalate into a fight, Lukas interrupted them.

"Why do you say he's crazy?"

"Because he talks to fairies, unicorns and flying critters. You can't get much crazier than that. He's totally unawesome."

As the childhood friends returned to their argument, neither noticed how the stranger had almost fallen off his horse in shock.

Lukas quickly gathered his composure and followed his guides. Fairies? This Arthur Kirkland spoke to fairies? If that was the case, then he didn't know whether he was doomed or saved.

Around him, the scenery had started to change. The thick green forest was giving way to fields of crops. Stone houses were slowly gaining visibility as they approached them. The village was small but in good shape with villagers scurrying around, a few calling greetings to the nearby patrollers.

Gibert and Elizaveta led Lukas past the rows of buildings to an isolated house by a cliff. There, they dismounted and gestured for the Norwegian to do the same. Then, the Hungarian knocked on the door.

As soon as it opened, Lukas felt the energy this place possessed. His eyes widened as he spotted tiny winged humans flying about, most fluttering around the inhabitant's head.

Arthur Kirkland was well-dressed and his dirty blond hair was combed. Even the extremely bushy eyebrows seemed to have had something done to them. Green eyes fixed Lukas warmly.

"Hello there. You're Lukas Thomasson, I assume?" he smiled.

"Yes, I am…"

"Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you. The fae have been dying to catch a glimpse of you. Please come inside," he then turned to the other two, who were slowly backing away, "would you two like to come in as well?"

"Thank you for the offer, but we'll decline. We've got things to do," the brown-haired woman excused herself politely.

"All right then. I'll see you later then! Come on, Lukas, we have much to talk about!"

Ignoring the pitying looks he was receiving, Lukas followed his host inside the house, trying not to stare at the magical beings flying around. He could ask about those later. He already felt that this would be an interesting afternoon.