A/N: "J" would like to say she enjoyed reading and editing this, so she hopes that you guys would enjoy this, too. We would both like to thank Angel the Neko, MorningDew, Rose, Apple-Cola, and anon reviewing since we forgot to thank you awesome reviewers last chapter. One scene here was inspired by The Secret. Since I couldn't find a good name, I named Bulgaria Sergei mainly because it means servant.

We do not own Hetalia.

A Small Fish in a Big Pond

He held a secret, a secret he had long ago locked away in his heart forever. It was an unfulfilled dream that Alfred had ever since he was known as "the sewer boy" in the village back home. There was a beautiful lass with which he was smitten with. Her name was Amelia, the daughter of the local blacksmith. Even though their statuses in society were different, Alfred loved her nonetheless. They were good childhood friends when they were younger, spending their days in completely ignorant bliss, unaware of the cruel, harsh rules of society. However, in the last few years that he was living in the village, they rarely interacted with each other. Even though Alfred was burdened with the duty of taking care of his sickly brother, on the days when he was not taking care of Matthew, he would work overtime, trying to gain enough money to propose to the young girl. He would always imagine himself sweeping Amelia off her feet, taking her in his arms and riding away on a horse into the sunset. This was his dream. Even though he knew that dream was now slowly disappearing, it was still his. It was a fleeting dream; but then again, wasn't that the very essence of a dream?

Alfred blinked as the first rays of sunshine flickered past his eyelids, the golden flecks of light beckoning him to wake up and join them. He raised his arms, stretching all the nooks and stiffness of his muscles which were currently paralyzing him. With one final crack, he hopped off the bed and began to absorb the environment he was in. He was no longer in the Lapiz Kingdom; he was in a room, alone, with the king of the Emerald Kingdom. Recovering his memories of last night, he was ashamed of his unruly conduct during the incident with the thunderstorm. Undoubtedly, he had bawled and shrieked like a maniac crying for dear life, and the memories of him requesting that they do not do that yet, only added to the guilt and humiliation. Although Alfred was relieved beyond belief that Arthur had complied with his request, he was still concerned about the technicalities that came with not doing it. Is it possible that it's tradition to do that after the wedding in this kingdom?

The door creaked open and a petit man with dark hair and fair skin beckoned him to come outside. Alfred pointed to himself, quietly asking the question if it was indeed himself that the dark haired man was looking for. The mysterious man nodded in response. Needless to say, Alfred was completely bewildered at the sudden situation. Nonetheless he followed the man after picking up his wire-framed glasses from the night stand. Once outside the room, the man dipped his head and bowed down.

"I'm sorry to have to call on you so early in the morning Mister Alfred, but I had strict orders to take the all the necessary precautions before anyone else could investigate your bodily features. By the way, my name is Sergei, a dresser sent by King Francis."

Alfred was jubilant to finally receive someone sent by Francis; another person who he could act over familiar with, and not have to stress about proper etiquette or standing.

He was suddenly hit with the hand of inspiration; a brilliant idea has sprouted in to his head. Alfred held up a finger, indicating to Sergei to wait a minute. "Hold on a sec, okay," He then tip-toed back inside the adjacent room stealthily.

When Alfred reappeared out in front of the doorway, he apologized to Sergei, who gave him a questioning look. He laughed nervously in response, "Sorry about that. Forgot that there was something I needed to do."

He cheerfully grabbed Sergei's hand and shook it vivaciously, smiling brilliantly.

"No need to act so formal, Sergei! I don't mind if you call me Alfred in private!"

"U-umm… sure… Let's get you dressed shall we?"

"OH MY GOD!"

The piercing shriek hammered through his head as if he was in a construction site. Arthur slowly opened his eyes; though his mind was as muddy as those pathetic mud pies that Peter attempts to feed him. "M-my L-lord! Please tell me it isn't so!"

Dear god, woman. What isn't so?

Arthur was still very drowsy and gave a groaned as he stretched his tired body. His tired eyes then opened up to see the horror-stricken face of Elizabeta. It was quite an unusual sight to see. It was truly remarkable for Elizabeta to show such a strong reaction to whatever she's seeing; she is normally much more composed.

She pointed a quivering at Arthur's direction, her mouth blubbering out incoherent words in her native language. "Elizabeta, what is the damn-" It was then that he finally realized what was wrong. Why am I wet? He lowered his hand down to the more private sectors of his body. His fingers squished down to touch the sticky substance. The first thing that came into his mind was that. Bloody hell! A horde of both anxious and perturbed thoughts rapidly entered his mind; and he tried, hard as he might, with all the power of his rational mind, to think of a reason as to why he was in the current state that he was in.

H-how did-? W-why am I-? Bloody hell! His internal panic attack was reflected on his scarlet-red face in a mixture of disgust, anger, and sheer embarrassment. "Elizabeta! I-I can explain!"

Elizabeta left the scene squaking incoherent words once again, leaving his poor majesty rummaging through his brain alone. Ok… Relax, just stay calm. Arthur was breathing heavily as he tried to recall the events of last night. Now, what did I do last night? I knew the princess was here, but I didn't do anything. She was scared of the thunder, so I comforted her. She fell asleep and then…What happened? Why did I end up like this? Did I call in a prostitute or something?

It was then that Arthur noticed a conspicuous bottle of lotion lying on the ground. He put one-and-one together and came to the rational conclusion that the fresh stain in between his legs was just merely plain lotion smeared onto the sheets. Arthur climbed off the bed to further investigate his findings.

He picked up the tiny lotion bottle and turned it this way and that.

"Who wou-?" and thus, finally, Arthur understood what had happened, and who was to blame for this atrocity.

That. Princess. Is. So. Dead.

He sloppily dressed himself, not caring about what the servants and butlers would say about him today because he is peevishly hunting for a certain princess to choke her to death after making him have the most humiliating day of the year. What fun sorts of torture would he do to her body? There were so many choices: the electric chair, peeling her skin, the old-fashioned guillotine, etc. No, he needed to be more brutal.

One friendly fairy approached Arthur's side asking, "Is something the matter King Arthur?"

"I'm going to kill my new wife."

"Gasp! But Arthur! That's a sin!"

"I don't bloody care if that's a bloody sin. That woman will pay; she will rue the day she ever met me!"

A blonde tuff of hair poked itself out from one of the rooms, and there was the princess. Right there in front of him, looking like the easy prey Arthur expects her to be. He strode forward haughtily towards her. He was close now, so close to ringing that pretty little neck of hers. However, she was somehow able to notice his rapid approach and gave him one of those sickeningly dazzling smiles which Arthur drinks with both an unknown desire for more distaste. However, the smile disappeared as he slammed her to the opposite wall facing him and glared at her with hostile malevolence, his emerald green eyes darkening to a blackish forest green. He forcibly pushed the almost forgotten lotion bottle to her cheek, making her understand the source of his grumpiness.

"What. The. Hell. Was. That."

Alfred winced at the menacing tone of Arthur's voice. He was undeniably in deep trouble. When he said trouble, he meant that the greenish look on Arthur's face hinted at the very likely possibility that his dead body would soon be found at the bottom of quicksand.

Alfred chocked at the amount of pressure that was currently on his throat, but managed to sputter out, "W-what do you mean?"

He tried to shift himself away, but Arthur blocked any means of escape from his tight grip.

"I mean the mysterious white substance that I found in our bed earlier this morning. Clearly it was meant to replace something utterly, completely and entirely different!"

It was in these few moments that Alfred discovered a new shade of red on Arthur's face, and decided to name it after Arthur's fuming anger, titled the Bloody Red of the Bloody Angry Arthur. Too simplistic? Well, maybe someday someone with an expertise of naming colors will find a better title.

The young princess tried to voice her explanation, but Arthur's hold on her throat was too tight. Arthur willed himself to slightly loosen his grip on the poor girl's throat, but only enough so that he was able to understand her inaudible words.

"Oh, do you mean that? What's so bad? If I recall correctly, according to the reading I found in the History and Traditions of the Emerald Kingdom, newlyweds were expected to do certain nightly activities. It's a common practice after two people have wed, right?"

"You goddamn fool! Because of you, my reputation has lowered even farther below than my father's grave! What demonic book have you been reading? Such superstitious laws have been erased and unpracticed for over a hundred years now! I don't care if Francis taught you this. By God, I swear, I'm going to strangle the daylights out of that useless, troublesome brother of yours!"

"Hey! Don't insult him like that. He's not as bad as he you think he is!"

But before Arthur could snap back at her with a clever comeback, someone interrupted their violent quarrel with a cough from behind them, which demanded their full and undivided attention.

Elizabeta, in her governess manner, tapped her foot and looked disapprovingly at the sight of her King and her new princess.

"If I'm not interrupting anything, Your Majesty, you have an urgent meeting with the war generals regarding the Kaoru of the Orchid Flame incident this morning. And Princess Marie, you should finish your breakfast. After that, report to Roderich Edelstein to begin your lessons."

She paused as she gave Alfred a quick look over.

"Based on what I've heard, this outdated information about our history will defiantly have to be set straight. I'll make sure to inform Sir Roderich to pay special attention to this part of your lessons. You may be dismissed."

Like any prissy governess, Elizabeta swiftly walked away, undoubtedly on her way to do finish her other duties that she had to do in her busy everyday life.

Their schedules were set; there was no avoiding it. Their argument would just have to wait, so they separated themselves apart, still warily glancing at each other. If only that was true…

"You irritate me." announced Arthur.

"Well, you're a prick."

"Bumbling fool."

"Stick up his ass."

"Discoordinate-"

A roaring order echoed the hall, "GO TO YOUR RIGHTFUL PLACE NOW!"

Fearing the wrath of Elizabeta, they scurried away, both praying that the only time they would meet again would be during meals. Thus, began the eventful day of Alfred's life in the Emerald Kingdom.

Alfred sighed. He finished his breakfast and had changed into another long-sleeved frilly dress. His lessons would commence today in the music room, which was next door to his personal study. As he began to walk towards the music room, he began to feel an uneasy sensation in his belly.

Studying was actually a fun pastime for him; but when there's an instructor involved, all of his previous interest dissipates into nothingness, and this would sadly result in him getting scolded. He only broke a sweat when writing was involved. His reading skills weren't superb but not devastatingly horrible either. After all, he had spent two months learning all the materials necessary to imitate Marie, which was a complete miracle to the boy, who didn't have any kind of formal education in his nineteen years of life. He only lacked the confidence to rack all the information into his head.

He inched closer to the white-washed door, where he could hear a piano playing softly. Along with that, was a kind hum intermixing, completing the harmony. Entranced by the sound, his body began to move on its own and opened the door. Even though he was as slow as a turtle, the door creaked an eerie moan, causing the beautiful music to abruptly stop.

"Who goes there?" A raucous voice echoed throughout the room.

"M-my name is Marie." Alfred stated.

"Don't stand outside like that. Come in and have a seat. Take your time listening to the music."

Alfred smiled meekly and quietly slid into the seat next to his instructor, where he would begin his lessons for the next three hours.

Elizabeta gaped, open-mouthed, at the impossible spectacle before her.

"Unbelievable." she said to herself.

"Ummm…darling?"

The ridiculous scene before her was defiantly an unusual one. Her husband, the intense musician extraordinaire, was worshipping the very soles of the new princess; showering the girl with sweet and delightful compliments, causing her to blush in modesty. "Amazing. Absolutely amazing!"

"No, sir, really it was nothing special."

When Roderich saw his wife standing blankly by the door, he urged the governess enthusiastically to come over.

"Elizabeta! This girl is a genius-one who is rarely born into this hierarchy! Her musical ability is superb!"

But the princess interrupted, "Oh please, Mister Roderich, don't exaggerate. I can only play a few fiddle tunes that originated from my kingdom's countryside. It's pale in comparison to your virtuous piano."

Elizabeta swore the man was marveling Marie's talented fingers at this point; her brow twitched in a jealous quirk.

She tried again to catch her husband's attention. "Aaah, Roderich-"

However Elizabeta was quickly interrupted by her husband as he exclaimed "I fail to differ! Though I must admit the genre of the music was rough, but your performance was stupendous! I applaud your skills with the violin to the upmost degree!" he said with much enthusiasm.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes; her patience was running out. She had enough of waiting for her husband. She tugged on his wrist and dragged him out of the room, leaving the princess perplexed and confused.

She glanced back and forth; making sure the princess was out of hearing range before berating him.

"Roderich! What was all that? Your job was to make her feel insecure and useless, not welcomed!"

"But Elizabeta dear, this girl has done no harm at all. I'm telling you, we should guide her into become a better princess than to-"

Elizabeta felt betrayed by his mutiny. Her voice rose a bit higher and sounded more frustrated.

"Didn't all of us: Ludwig, Feliciano, Kiku, Vash, Mathias, EVERYONE agreed to hate the princess?"

In a hushed voice, Roderich said, "Yes."

They all agreed ever since the day King Arthur announced to the Emerald Kingdom that he would propose to the young princess of the Lapiz Kingdom. Not everyone is as merciful and forgiving as Arthur. His proposal of marriage was a major step in bringing peace to the two warring kingdoms. After twenty years of fighting, killing and death, there could finally be peace. But two years cannot simply erase twenty years of animosity between the two kingdoms. Even the youngsters, such as Feliciano, understood that the Emerald and Lapiz kingdoms were connected by a strong feeling of resentment that could never fully be forgiven, nor forgotten. They could never forgive the princess. To just waltz right into their territory was inexcusable. This place was sacred to them, a place where their late parents and their beloved late king had once walked. So they agreed that once the princess stepped into their castle, she will not be taken lightly. Elizabeta made sure of that.

The two returned to the princess where Elizabeta informed her, "Your three hours are up. Sit patiently at the balcony in Arthur's study room to have tea time."

Alfred, who understood the solemn atmosphere reeking within the room, left briskly, not turning back to ask them for directions. He couldn't pinpoint why, but by judging Roderich's steely gaze, he would not witness his teacher's kindness and hospitality again tomorrow.

Seeing the princess hurriedly walk down the halls, Elizabeta looked at her clipboard, which listed off the further instructions of today's agenda.

"Okay, after her tea time, you should give her a formal introduction of our history starting with King George the First, then for the next two hours teach her the steps to our traditional dance and-"

"I think she's going to be finished by the end of the next two months."

"Hm? Why do you say that?"

Roderich had his pensive face on, and was looking off into a faraway distance.

"That girl… she's scarier than all of us have imagined."

"Huh?"

"You see those books on the ground?"

Down on the ground was the Principalia of Mathematica, The Art of War, and other various textbooks strewn across the floor. Elizabeta counted about fifteen of them, astonished at the diverse selections, some of them related to posture and good manners and some related to economics and history.

"Roderich… What are they?" The blood on Elizabeta's face dropped, giving her cold feet at his response.

"Princess Marie… She finished my lessons in fifteen minutes."

"But aren't they supposed to be three hours?"

"She read through my selection of books and handpicked those other ones from the shelves. Like I said, she's an amazing woman. Her lessons will end by two months, not a year." he paused and turned to look at his wife "Just give her a chance."

Elizabeta looked at Roderich darkly, refusing to accept the fact, and instead, denied her, categorizing her as queer. Princess Marie was a mystery indeed. This is why this castle, and its inhabitants, will have to break her.

Plip. Plop. Plip. Plop.

156… 157… 158… It sucks to count the raindrops.

The tear-streaked windows looked sad to Alfred, reflecting his depressing mood. He had to painstakingly walk around the perimeter of the castle, wearily seeking a kind eye to lead him to Arthur's study room. Unfortunately, every maid he encountered avoided him, as if he was some putrid germ dabbed on the wall. Luckily he was able to find the room and sat there waiting patiently. His mood, however, got worse as time flew and his feelings of depression were only getting worse. He knew what bullying was from what he had seen in the villages and from personal experience. Though this kind bullying wasn't verbal nor anything like the kind he would get back home in the village; no, this was a whole new level. He was ostracized, and all of his relationships have been cut off. Alfred is alone, all alone in this stony lonesome, helpless and useless castle.

256…257…258… Damn it, where's that Arthur? It's been a frigging 30 minutes for Pete's sake.

"There will come soft rains." whispered Alfred, recalling a poem in his head.

Where have I read that?

… Wait a second. Why am I wasting my time counting droplets of H2O when I can be exploring this humungous castle? And when did I think of the rain being boring. C'mon, I should be prancing around dirtying my dress in mud puddles!

Following his own ultimatum, his own rules, he double-checked his surroundings- though there was really no need, since nobody would bother to care about his actions. He then noticed some sheets and blankets that were neatly folded on Arthur's bed, unruffled and spiffy.

Not anymore, thought Alfred. Holding the corners of the blankets, he lifted them and snapped them out of their formal mound, unleashing its long length of fabric onto the ground. Another blanket was unraveled, and again and again and again until all of the blankets were stretched out on the wine-colored carpet. Then he took a fistful of blanket and began to tie them into tight, powerful knots, ones that were suitable to withstand his weight. Hopefully I did this correctly, just like in the adventure books, he thought as he gave one final tug on his last knot. The connected chain of blankets was an amateurish substitute to rope, but it was the best he could do. Rummaging around Arthur's cabinets and drawers, he fished a pair of black pants.

A gust of wind rattled the windows, which opened immediately, bringing a light shower of raindrops into the room. On a brick pathway off the side of the castle was the training grounds reserved for Arthur's knights, which was exactly where Alfred was heading to. With one eye closed and his tongue sticking out to emphasize this thrilling, short adventure, he gripped the makeshift rope and escaped from the second floor, whooping in glee as he landed safely on his feet with a light splash. There, he ventured straight towards the training grounds, trying to decide whether he should spy on them or be an idiot and ask to join them.

Beads of sweat traced the lines of the men's' foreheads as they practiced their sword handling skills in the arena where all the usual knights gather. Today Alfred was graced with the opportunity to observe firsthand some of Arthur's most trusted knights sparring with each other. After the wedding, Ludwig, the head of the band of knights, announced that their training required a more powerful defense in order to efficiently protect more citizens when a catastrophe like the day before happens again.

"Feliciano! Run faster or no lunch!"

Apparently Feliciano was now facing his punishment for abandoning the knights during battle. Alfred smiled at the comedic routine. The wailing Feliciano zoomed past Ludwig, running at the speed of 30 miles per hour, yelling about pasta and whatnot in wheezing gasps. Their training wasn't as strenuous as Alfred imagined, but the clangs of metal beating and the ravaged grunts of the men captivated the combat deprived boy. He hungrily eyed the hilt of a katana, which belonged to the slimly, short, dark-haired young man named Kiku Honda.

Kiku was currently comforting a weeping Feliciano a few yards away from where Alfred was perched. The prominent bushes around the sides of the fence enveloped Alfred, so that nobody would be able to see the boy peeking at the men.

"There, there, Feliciano-san. Ludwig-sempai just doesn't want to see you dead. You know he can't protect you all the time. He just wants you to be safe."

"Ve~ You really mean it Kiku?" The red head's smile could have rivaled Alfred's himself.

"U-umm. This is the time where I refrain from speaking."

"Aw, c'mon Kiku!"

Kiku suddenly swirled his head around, his eyes as big as an owl's, looking straight at Alfred's direction.

Shit, thought Alfred. He remembered that Kiku's name was notorious in the Lapiz Kingdom because even though many generals regarded him as being begrudgingly for wiping out into battles and kicking ass. He was quite famous for he was originally a citizen of the Jade Palace who rose to the pinnacle of knighthood while he was adapting into the Emerald Kingdom.

"Ludwig-sempai. I feel like we are being spied." he said.

Replying to Kiku's keen instincts without question, Ludwig roared, "Men! Search the grounds!"

Marching took place in all directions, and at that instant, Alfred believed this is where he would bid his silent farewell. Besides, he was out in the rain and soaking wet. He ran, splashing the numerous puddles filling the begotten holes, getting the lower portion of Arthur's pants muddied and drenched. He dared not to look back, but a shiver ran down his spine, causing him to look back to meet the ghostly, translucent eyes of Kiku. In a panic, he dashed faster towards the castle gates.

"Jeebus! Princess! Where have you been? You're soaking wet! The whole castle was looking for you!" shouted Elizabeta.

Your face speaks more than your words, thought Alfred, for Elizabeta barely rose her eyebrows for the princess's safety.

After that train of thought, he sneezed.

"Go to your designated room and dry yourself there."

"You should go outside, Elizabeta. The leaves look greener than ever."

With a final sniffle, he chose the quickest route to his room and left Elizabeta and her hostility.

A maid, who was walking by, pitied the wet princess by chance and handed her a towel that smelled faintly of lavender. Alfred thanked her gratefully and promised himself to do something for her later.

Sergei was nowhere to be found, and Arthur didn't seem to mind his absence in his study room today, given that Alfred wasn't bombarded by Arthur's insults, for it appeared as though Arthur had disappeared as well.

Alfred began to dry himself as he walked down the hall, and contemplated his standing in the kingdom once more. He was then hit with the revelation that he was a flea, a miniscule piece of bacteria, which would only ever be considered to be nothing more than useless baggage to his king. What was worse was that it was true because he is merely a piece of property, someone who isn't a human, in the eyes of both Arthur and all the other people here. Alfred stood still, incredulous in his ignorance to the flagrant atmosphere. Sadness washed over him because even though Sergei was here, who is a Lapiz citizen, someone who was sent personally by Francis, and knows his true identity, it didn't satisfy him, not one bit. All he has was himself, and he can't rely on anybody else to save him. He had no one. He was all alone.

He stood motionless in the quietness of the empty hallway and gently told himself, "If you want a rainbow, then you have to get through the rain."

Alfred was finally at his bedroom door and had grasped the bronze doorknob. He was about to turn the knob when heard a smacking noise from behind the closed door. Out of curiosity, he attached his ear to the wooden frame, straining his ears to hear who or what was in his bedroom. Was it a burglar?

Let's see, thought Alfred, I have a towel. I can whip the heck out of whoever's inside. Okay, on the count of three, I'll surreptitiously open the door and catch the bad guy in the act. One… Two… THREE!

He turned and pushed the door open. However, he wasn't fully prepared for the unexpected surprise that was behind the closed door.

A young girl gasped and said "W-wait! Your Majesty, s-stop. Someone's here."

"Huh? … Who?" asked a deep, husky yet silky voice.

Alfred's brain was short-circuiting at the scandalous situation, which he noted would be the perfect moment for the tabloids if they were here right now. Arthur Kirkland, his "husband" for only one day, is naked, with another woman, in HIS bed.

Now Alfred wasn't furious that his "husband" was messing around with the prostitutes, the maids, the ladies in waiting, the- okay, look, he just doesn't care, alright? What he DOES mind though is the fact that Arthur was "tainting" an innocent maid on HIS freaking bed. Now that steps over boundaries. That was a new low even for a "gentleman" like Arthur. If Alfred was an actual woman and loved the guy, he would go all destructive and might even start what we, dear readers, know as World War III. However, he was calm and took deep breaths, in and out.

And in the most sugary, sing song voice Alfred could muster, he gritted his teeth and said, "Hello there Arthur, nice seeing you here. Can you, like-um- take your damn SLUT and get the FUCK out of my room? This is NOT your bed!"

If Alfred was just in ordinary boyish clothes, he wouldn't look as intimidating as he is now. Yet, a supposed "girl" smiling a honey sweet smile to two naked people sprawled on her bed gives her a daunting and threatening aura, because it gives you the impression that she has snapped, even though the reason many people assume why is totally different from the actual matter at hand.

Arthur, not at all dazed, compared to his afternoon lover, left the room with his unsavory pride while tugging her away as she snatched the rumpled sheets from the bed. They went inside the room adjacent to Alfred's and slammed the door, allowing the whamming noise to echo down the long, empty, dark hallway.