Falke- Unlike Onee- Chan I do not rant in my chapters. So don't expect it.
Denmark- I am awesome.
Prussia- That is my line!
Spain- Oi! I am awesome!
Prussia- You git that is my line too!
Arthur- And git is my line!
Vash- I will shoot you if you infringe upon the neutrality of this room! And HetaliaShadow doesn't own Hetalia.
Chapter 7
Arthur sullenly emerged from the room, ready for war.
"Here, you need this you git." He said throwing a gun at Gilbert who caught it.
He had forgotten about Canada… again.
Arthur didn't want to fight this war. He used to love Alfred, but then Gilbert came along. And now, he loved Gilbert.
And now he had to fight a bloody war. And to make it all better with the same bloody git who made him depressed but also drove him into Gilbert's arms.
He just couldn't win.
Arthur eyed Gilbert; he was in his own military uniform. But only one thing was missing. Blood lust in Gilberts red eyes. Countries who had battled Prussia always said how he looked possessed since his red eyes danced with light and want of blood. He had also heard how Gilbert's sadistic smile that he reserved for battle was downright frightening and insane.
So… why wasn't it there? Gil just looked like his usual 'awesome' self but with a hint of sadness.
The boat was docked and the crew rushing around.
"Arthur… ready?" Gilbert asked.
Gilbert was anxious. What if Arthur still truly loved Alfred and the war drove him back to Alfred? He couldn't stop that, he was just a pawn on a playing board.
"Yes I'm ready." Arthur said.
They got into a boat along with more of Arthurs soldiers. Gilbert said nothing to Arthur, thought he really wanted t say something. He wanted to scream 'I love you Arthur' but he couldn't.
He could later, after Arthur won. There was always later…
Some of England's soldiers were already fighting. Smoke from the black powder was evident even this far off. As they grew closer the smell of sulfur and sound of guns overwhelmed them both. The second the boat hit the shore it was empty. Men were running to the heat of battle.
And Gilbert lost himself in the thrill and adrenaline only war could bring.
The battle raged but Gil didn't mind. War wasn't something he was afraid of. All day he darted between trees on the right flank of the army. He shot, filled the barrel, rammed down a bullet, fired, and repeated. He didn't stand still longer than it took him to load and shoot. He did this all day, and all night, and lost track of time. As a country, he didn't need sleep as humans did. And at war, it was a rarity for Gilbert to sleep at all. So he kept up his fire, reload, fire without fail and without break. NO thoughts crossing his mind besides
The more I fight and more I kill the sooner the battle will be won.
Meanwhile on the left side of the English front Arthur barked commands to his men who were using the cannons. After awhile someone else took over and Arthur began to fire his gun.
Wait, where's Gilbert? He wondered Shit! He must have been hurt! What is he was? Then it would be all my fault! What if he dies!
Arthur became frazzled. He had been fighting too long, he needed rest, no, he needed to find Gilbert!
Arthur ran madly though the battle field, recklessly and dangerously.
Shots were fired, cannons boomed, and his heart and thoughts raced until a bullet found its way to Arthur.
He collapsed on the spot.
Back on the other end of the battle Gilbert heard a horn sound as the morning sun was rising. Whoa, we've been at it all day and night! Gilbert thought.
He went back towards the middle of the English army. It was chaos; people were running everywhere, even the officers.
"Have you seen Arthur Kirkland?" Gilbert asked.
"No we can't find him!" an officer yelled.
Gilbert's heart stopped beating for a second.
He tore off into the woods. He had to find Arthur!
The battle front was about two and a half miles long and Gil ran full out stopping and looking at every dead soldier.
Then he saw him.
Gilbert flew over to Arthur, who had been shot in the shoulder and was bleeding.
"A-Arthur?" Gilbert asked gently tears streaming down his face.
"Gil?" Arthur weakly asked.
Gilbert looked down at his Brit. His face was dirty. Sweat, black powder, dirt, and blood covered it. His hair was matted with blood sweat and dirt.
Gilbert took off his shirt and carefully used it to stop Arthur's bleeding. He sat cross-legged and pulled Arthur into his lap, supporting his head.
"I'm here Arthur. Shh relax. You'll be ok." Gilbert said.
Arthur opened his eyes, hurt, tried, yet beautiful green eyes met worried, angry, and hurt red ones.
But Arthur was unable to keep his eyes open. If he died, he'd miss staring into Gilbert's mystical eyes that were cold and hard towards the world, but soft and kind towards him.
If I die, I want it to be with me looking into his eyes. Arthur concluded.
Though I'd much rather live and be able to hug him, and kiss him. Arthur added.
"Gil… I'm so tired." He said.
"You can't go to sleep yet Artie!" Gilbert cried.
He felt so bad; he heard footsteps behind him but ignored them.
"Ha-ha! I've got England and Prussia in the same place!" America laughed holding his gun at them.
Prussia burned with anger. He may be a pawn in this chess game, but sometimes a pawn can be the demise of a king.
He surged forward tackled Alfred, knocking the gun off into the brush.
Prussia was lucky; Alfred had struck his head on a rock and was passed out cold.
Gilbert rushed back to Arthur not caring about Alfred.
He looked pale… and sickly. Maybe… maybe he didn't have until later, maybe he didn't have forever.
"Arthur… I-I need to tell you something." Gilbert said.
Arthur's green eyes cracked open a bit.
Gilbert leaned forwards and pressed his dry and chapped lips to Arthurs.
And Arthur kissed him back.
Gilbert pulled away, reluctantly.
"Arthur… I love you." Gilbert said staring right into Arthurs eyes.
"Gilbert, I love you." Arthur said weakly smiling.
And to each other, those were the best four words in the world. Gilbert stood up and picked up Arthur carrying his back to camp. In the same fashion as Gilbert did the night they met that seemed so long ago.
And so the pawn carried the king.
Falke- so what you all think? Leave a review with your thoughts! And I like ate a whole box of thin mints while writing this.
Germany- Review and I'll bake you cookies.
Italy-Ve~ But I may eat them if he isn't in the kitchen guarding them.