A/N: I am incredibly sorry for the late update. I knew they'd be slow because of school, but I didn't think it would be this bad. I'd like to thank all of you who favorited, alerted, reviewed, or even looked at the prologue. I'll do my best to provide you all with an update worthy of your continued attention to my fan-fiction. Please enjoy this update, written with extra love, and Britannia-mun, I honestly could not have gotten through writing this without you. Thank you for being patient with me.
This chapter is rather short, but the next one really gets into the exposition, will be much longer and will hopefully not take a month-and-a-half. Reviews also work wonders on getting me motivated! (wink wink)
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At the end of the last chapter…
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Two hours later, on-planet and exiting his ship with little more than his space-suit and re-breather, Arthur Kirkland discovered that Americana was not quite as unpopulated as he had thought.
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"Bugger."
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Chapter One: The Siren-Song of the 'New' World
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Americana was beautiful.
Arthur had transported from his ship to the surface after hours of deliberation on the perfect spot, ultimately deciding on a grain-y clearing amidst sloping hills and patches of forest. He explored with leisure, treading through the open fields he had seen only in the holo-novels he had viewed at home, projected memories of a time long past in his planet's history.
This land was untamed, wild and free; it was by far the complete opposite of his own Britannia a massive, sprawling city that encompassed the entire globe, stretching out over even the oceans.
He sighed in pleasure, eyes closing as he relaxed, fingers brushing the long stalks of grain as he stood, silent, halfway up a hill and surveying the land around him. It was almost as if the world was singing to him at that moment.
Wait.
Was that…actual singing? The further up the hill he moved the louder the voice seemed to get. Arthur dropped to his knees as he crested the hill, crawling through the thick golden grasses, parting them with gloved fingers like a curtain.
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"Oh beautiful, for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain..." A young man dressed in faded jeans and a dirty shirt tended to a patch of dark earth sprouting with plants as he sang, thrusting a hoe into the dirt with each line he sang, "For purple mountain majesties, upon the fruited plain-" he trailed off as he stabbed the tool into the soft earth beneath him, straightening as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
Arthur crawled closer through the corn-yellow stalks of grain, parting them farther with black and white-gloved fingers as he peered through them, trying to get a better view. He took a deep breath, air flowing through the re-breather in his nose, filtering clean and pure as it filled his lungs. 'I thought this place was unpopula-'
Blue eyes met his as the head below turned his direction, pausing momentarily before the body twisted to face him fully.
"Bugger."
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Arthur scrambled to his feet as man below stared up at him, heel digging into the too-soft earth, tossing flecks of brown behind him as he started to run. He wheezed as he ran, lungs straining from the exercise his body so rarely got, pushing harder as he heard a muffled curse and the rustling of parted stalks of grain that did not quite match his own.
"Hey! Don't run-" the blond man's voice called from below, echoing on the hills as he cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled. "-I'm not gonna hurt you!" He ignored the voice, panting harder, his helmet fogging from his moist breath. "C'mon man, this so isn't-"
Arthur let out a yelp as his foot caught a rock, tripping him up and sending him toppling into the grain, the dried stalks snapping under his weight. He rolled down the rest of the hill, landing head-over-feet in a heap at the bottom of the hill he had climbed earlier, the sound of laughter reaching his ears.
"Oh man, are you okay?" He heard the quick crunch of footsteps as the man in the white shirt descended from the top of the hill, turning quickly away as he pushed himself to his feet, dusting the broken bits of stalk and seed from his suit, picking them off of his helmet. A warm hand clasped his shoulder, surprising him. He let out a growl and turned, punching the man in the stomach.
"-Augh!" the blond released him, stumbling back as he held his stomach. "What the hell, man? Not cool, not cool at all. Why did you freaking hit me?"
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Ten minutes and a hasty apology later, Arthur worked to keep his temper as the blond man asked him excited questions almost too quickly for his spacesuit's built in translator to keep up with.
"So who exactly are you? And where are you from? I've never seen one of those suits before, isn't it hot in there?" the blond asked with a fluid rapidity that only his little brother Peter could hope to match; blue, blue eyes crinkling with happiness as he held a welcoming hand out to the off-worlder. "You're some kinda spaceman, right? I know you're not from around here-"
"-I am not a 'spaceman', stranger," he replied with a sniff. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I am from the planet Britannia. Your name is..?" Arthur curtly asked the smiling American as he batted the outstretched hand out of his way, already annoyed.
His nerves grated more as the American pressed close, invading his personal space as a heavy arm was slung over his shoulders, pulling him against the larger form as the native laughed. "I haven't introduced myself yet? I guess I forgot in all the excitement. The name's Alfred. Alfred Jones. And I'd like to welcome you to Americana, Artie."
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End of Chapter One
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Preview:
"This is amazing—Americana must have been so advanced," Arthur murmured, running his hands along the smooth material that covered the side of a collapsed building. "The materials that this building is made of we've only just begun to work with…"
He turned to Alfred, excited. "Do you realize how incredible all of this is? All of this—this technology, do you know how many millions it's worth? Do you know how many people would kill to even get a hold of this stuff?"
"Oh I don't know about any of that," Alfred laughed, scratching the back of his head. "It's just home to us. 'Sides, no one's been able to use any of it since the-"
"Hey, Alfred!" They both turned at the sound of a chipper, slightly effeminate voice calling out to them.
"Feliks?"