After Ireland (the Irish Free State) and Northern Ireland's little dispute, the brothers return home to try and resume their normal lives. England's life is just about to get a little interesting tonight.
After the incident between Northern Ireland and the Irish Free State, the brothers went home to relax. Or at least try to. Northern Ireland was stuck in his room sulking over the events that led to this day. England was trying to distract himself with his embroidery, which wasn't working. All he could think about was Ireland. The way he looked at him in absolute hatred. The way he spoke to him with resentment in his voice but spoke to Northern Ireland calmly. The way he walked off without another word as if he turned his back on them for good.
The Englishman pricked himself with his needle once he heard a familiar French accent outside the window. He turned his body to face the window and pulled the curtain away slightly to see outside.
Sure enough, France was outside talking to Ireland. How they got along so well, England will never know. He couldn't even stand the sight of the French nation, yet Ireland can be in front of him with a kind smile on his face. That warm, kind smile. The smile he hasn't seen Ireland wear for years.
England was a little jealous. Seeing Ireland be so kind to the one nation England hated was insulting. Besides, why did France deserve to see Ireland smile like that? What did France do to deserve that? Sure, they were best friends but why was he so special?
England knew the answer without having to think about it. Through the years, no matter what happened, France never did anything truly bad to Ireland. Besides making some passes and suggesting things, France never hurt Ireland. France never came close to doing the things England did.
"So, did you finally have your name changed?" France asked the red-head. Ireland smiled contentedly and nodded his head.
"Tá! As of today, my name is the Irish Free State!" (T: Yes!)
"'The Irish Free State?' Well, it's better than calling you 'South' in the presence of your brother. Was his name changed, as well?"
"Tá. He's Northern Ireland now."
"Not very original."
"Well, he does represent the northern half. Or, rather, he use to. Only six counties wanted to stay in the United Kingdom, so he represents them."
"Speaking of which, did Eyebrows have to change his official name too? I mean, he doesn't have all of Ireland anymore." England could bearly hear the mocking tone in the Frenchman's voice. If only he could be there to strangle him.
"England's now the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland."
"Very straight forward. It's still a very long name, though."
"It's a good thing it's not his nickname. That would get old really quick."
"I prefer Eyebrows."
"Why do you call him that? Mine are much worse than his."
"Yours have a different feel to them."
Ireland looked at him with a quizzical expression before shaking his head.
"France, sometimes I wonder what goes through your head."
"Many things, mon ami. Many things." (T: my friend)
The two soon began walking off, talking along the way. England assumed they were going to a pub to get drunk out of their minds. Or, at least France would get drunk out of his mind. Ireland and his twin seem to take a long time getting drunk.
England sighed and went back to his embroidery. It never bothered him this much to see Ireland and France talk as they usual do. He didn't necessarily like that they were friends in the first place but it wasn't always a pain to see them together. Even when Ireland and France started the rebellions, it didn't get to England that they were always by each other's side.
"What's happening to me?" England asked himself in a low voice.
"You're turning into a stalker." England looked up to see Scotland leaning against the door frame, cigarette between his fingers.
"What do you want, Scotland?"
"I just came in to tell you that lunch is ready, but I saw you were busy and decided to watch."
"And you're calling me a stalker."
"I was standing here the whole time. Not behind a pair of thin-as-paper curtains."
"So you were spying on me watching South?"
"I believe it's the other way around and he's not South anymore, remember? He's the Irish Free State."
"He could've went with something like 'the Republic of Ireland' or something like that."
"He's not the whole island of Ireland."
"And Northern Ireland isn't the whole northern part of the island either. He's just six counties."
"And yet, someone like you represents the United Kingdom."
"What are you trying to get at?!"
"Big Brother?" Northern Ireland appeared from behind the wall next to Scotland. "Is lunch ready, yet?"
"Yeah. Help yourself." Scotland looked over at England before taking a huge inhale of his cigarette. "Are you going to sit there or are you going to eat?"
England tossed his craft aside on the other end of the couch, and walked into the kitchen with his older brother.
Night had long since darkened the sky and now it was time for the island nations to go to bed.
England climbed into bed, Ireland still on his mind. Today was not a good day. No day was ever considered good after Ireland split away. If it weren't for England's magical friends, he probably would've gone insane a long time ago.
Switching the lamp light off, England relaxed into a comfortable position under his brown coverlet. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Ireland was doing okay at his house. Though his brothers lived with him, they also had their separate houses in their capitols. England, representing himself and the United Kingdom as a whole, only had his house in London. This is where the nations of the United Kingdom stayed at most of the time.
England drifted off to sleep but woke up what seemed like moments later. He tried to will himself to go back to sleep but, for some reason, didn't feel the least bit tired.
England then shifted into a more comfortable position. Nothing. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts. Nothing. He counted sheep to himself. He grew bored and stopped counting after realizing that boredom wasn't doing the trick. He even tried to remember one of Germany's tedious lectures from past meetings. How that didn't work was beyond him.
Maybe some nice warm tea will help me relax, England thought to himself. He pulled on his night coat before exiting his bedroom as quietly as he could. He didn't want to disturb his brothers as they slept. Any one of them can be quite terrifying if woken up in the middle of the night.
Opening the door, England was blinded by a bright light. All he could see was light coming out of the outside of his door, disabling him to see past the brightness. Alarmed, England slammed the door shut, forgetting his fear of waking his brothers.
When England turned to face his room, however, he realized a sudden change. He wasn't in his room anymore. He was outside of his house. It was sunny and the temperature was moderate. It wasn't cold and snow didn't cover every inch of ground. In fact, it was more like a spring day, with the trees and bushes around his house in full bloom.
Perplexed, England looked around to make sure it was all a dream. It could easily be a spell someone placed on him for his or her own personal reason. Although, the atmosphere was too warm and calming to be something sinister.
England looked down to see that his night clothes were replaced with his every day clothes. His white button up shirt, green sweater vest, red tie, beige trousers, and brown dress shoes. Everything was neat and exact.
Should I go inside? England thought to himself as he surveyed the place for a moment longer. Slowly, he turned the knob and opened the door.
The inside hadn't changed at all. The only difference was that it was much brighter than it usually was. Just like the scene outside, the inside held a feeling of warmth and joy.
"Deartháir Beag? Are you home?" England jumped at the sound of someone else's voice. He wasn't expecting to encounter another person in this dream or spell or whatever he was in.
Wait... That voice...
A person walked into the front room where England was standing. He had long orange hair that bearly reached his shoulders. The back of his head was a rat's nest of unevenly cut and coarse hair. His cheerful face lit up in a bright smile, dark green eyes staring at him behind half-rimmed glasses that rested above freckles. He wore a dark green jumper over a plain white button up shirt, brown trousers, and his favourite black and green striped socks.
"South?"
"Welcome home, Deartháir Beag." Ireland walked over to England and pulled him into a warm embrace. England was so taken aback by this, he became stiff at the gesture. He wasn't sure whether he should accept the hug and pull away.
What's going on? This better be a dream. If this is someone's cruel joke, I swear I'll-
"Is there something wrong, Deartháir Beag?"
"Why are you calling me that?"
"I've been calling you that since you were young. Have you grown to detest it?"
"No. That's not it..."
"What is it?" The look in Ireland's eyes was that of concern and worry. It was as though Ireland thought he'd done something wrong and was trying to apologize for it. No resentment. No hatred.
"I've just had a long day," England replied. He decided to go along with this. Maybe he'll figure out what's going on and get some answers.
"Do you want to talk about it? I'll prepare some tea if you'd like."
"I guess we can."
"Okay." The smile returned to Ireland's face. The kind, happy smile he use to wear before England made him a part of the United Kingdom. It brought a very warm feeling to England.
"Sit in the living room while I prepare the tea, Deartháir Beag."
"Okay..."
England sat on the couch and thought about the current situation. He felt too lucid for this to be a dream. He also couldn't sense or detect anything supernatural or out of the ordinary. He wasn't really sure what was going on or why it was happening.
Moments later, Ireland came in with a tray, the kettle of tea and two cups on it. He sat the tray on the coffee table in front of them and took a seat next to England on the couch. As Ireland was pouring the tea, England couldn't help but feel comfort having the Irishman close to him.
"Sorry there isn't any cream or sugar. Big Brother and Eldest were suppose to buy more yesterday but never got around to doing it."
"Oh, that's fine. I can bear with it."
Ireland waited until England had finished sipping his tea to begin speaking to him again.
"So, how was your day, Deartháir Beag?"
"Not too good."
"Would you care to explain?"
England thought about what to say before blurting out everything that happened today. He wasn't sure if he should bring up the war or the recent name change.
"Before I begin, can I ask you something?"
"Anything Deartháir Beag."
"Was there... a dispute between us?"
"Dispute?"
"Yeah. Or anything negative that happened to us within the last several months?"
Ireland stared at him for a moment before saying, "Besides that time I took France's side in one of your debates, no. I can't think of anything."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. Is there something going on?"
"N-No. Just something Scotland said."
England was starting to become a little more confused. This couldn't possibly be before the war. Ireland wasn't this nice to him when he became part of the United Kingdom. He even stopped calling him "Deartháir Beag" and being affectionate with him.
"Deartháir Beag. I told you to not listen to him. Remember what I said to him after you spoke to me?"
"Ummmm... very vaguely..."
"I told him I would never leave you. Remember?"
England had to look down into his tea cup at the reflection to make sure he didn't suddenly change into Northern Ireland. It sounded like something Ireland would only tell his twin. Strangely, though, it was his face that stared back at him. No trace of Northern Ireland on his face.
"I-I think..."
"Don't lie, Deartháir Beag! You remember!" Ireland chuckled before ruffling England's hair. It felt the same way Ireland use to ruffle his hair long ago. At least before he was put into the United Kingdom.
The rest of the day was spent conversing about different things. Ireland talked about his crops and how he's doing better at his house. England talked about his rather depressing day, excluding having to change his name and how Ireland and Northern Ireland ended up fighting.
It started to slowly get darker the longer they sat in the living room. England hadn't realized how fast time was flying by or that they'd been talking most of the day. It seemed a bit unnatural how time passed so quickly.
"Are you hungry, Deartháir Beag? I could make you something."
"No. I'm good."
"Then, do you want to go to bed? You have another big day ahead of you."
"Yay... another day of paper work and dealing with my brothers..."
"That's why you need your rest. That way you'll be able to face the day without feeling cranky."
"I think that's our brothers' affect on me." Ireland chuckled at his youngest brother before ruffling his hair again.
"Go to bed, Deartháir Beag. I'll be here when you come home."
England walked upstairs to his room. Everything was the same but with a different feeling to it. Maybe it was because of the mysterious absence of his other brothers. Things tend to be more peaceful when it's only England in the house.
Changing into his night clothes again and climbing into bed, England settled himself into a comfortable position. He wasn't sure if this meant he was falling asleep in this place and if he was going to return to reality or not. What he did know was that his body was steadily growing more tired as he lay in bed.
Moments later, he was stirred by the early beams of the morning light. Though the light was bright enough to cause discomfort to his eyes, it was only another dull gloomy day. Nothing like what he experienced moments ago.
A dream... England thought as he stared at the clock on his night stand. It was only a dream...
I read somewhere that Himaruya's plan for an Ireland character would be a nation with eyebrows worse than England's, but with a "different feel" to them. Not sure what that looks like, but we'll go with it ^^"
When Ireland decided to become independent, six counties in the north eastern part didn't want to go along with the revolution. Instead, they stayed in the United Kingdom and became what is known today as Northern Ireland.