Here's the next chapter of sleeves as I promised there is a shit load of drama in this installment!
I feel so smart I just got ANOTHER virus scare, but instead of going to my brother crying, and begging him to fix it. I rooted around the control panel on my laptop and fixed it myself! I AM SO SMART!
There's a lot of back story in this chapter.
A shit load of research was done for this chapter and there will be some name changing too!
And at the end of the chapter there are endless translations but u might need to read them anyway or else you won't understand what the hell Wales is saying at all!
Disclaimer- I don't own hetalia
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Wales is going to have a little baby!" The red fairy squealed.
"I know I'm so excited!" the blue fairy cried.
"I hope it's a girl!" the pink fairy swooned.
"Don't Wales and Netherlands look so cute together?" the purple fairy giggled.
Green fairy happened to be flying by when she had overheard this bit of information, and she couldn't just keep it to herself. Being the gossip hound she was, she had to tell someone! She giggled to herself as she flew into the conference room.
"Wait until Norway finds out!"
Niels watched America rant about his economy while trying his best to ignore Matthias. He will not be forgiven that easily! He promised himself he would talk to the Danish fuck for another century.
"Hey Norway you won't believe what I heard!" Green fairly cried as she landed on his shoulder. He leaned forward as she began whispering in his ear.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Wales leaned into the palm of her hand while the other rubbed at her stomach, praying that the bagel she had on the way to the conference stayed down.
She looked up and noticed Norway looking at her. Wales's bushy eyebrows rose as he gave her a thumbs up. Confused, she began to look away but stopped as she felt her blood run cold when the little green fairly flew off his shoulder…
And flew towards England.
Oh no…
Everything seemed to go in slow motion as the fairy fluttered over and landed on the brits shoulder. She reached up and tugged on his hair, England set down his tea and leaned towards the little green fairy; the fairy cupped her hands and whispered into his ear.
Englands' eyes widened while the fairy giggled and flew away.
Seconds ticked by like hours as Englands face relaxed and his eyes closed. He picked up his cup of tea and took another sip. Wales felt her heart beat slow back down to normal speed, but it sped up once more when the brit set his tea down and stood up.
"And no one is allowed to disagree with me on this…" America trailed off when he noticed the island nation stand.
He straightened his jacket, paused before sighing, and he launched himself across the room and right towards Netherlands.
Gasped and shrieks erupted throughout the room while England straddled the Dutchman's waist and his finger wrapped around his neck as he began to throttle him.
"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU DANM BASTARD!" he screamed.
America ran forward and pulled the brit off of the other. "Iggy, what the hell is wrong with you!" England struggled against America's grip, while Denmark helped up Netherlands.
"Let me go America! I'm going to kill him!"
"Why, he did nothing wrong!"
England struggled even more. "He got my sister fucking pregnant! That's what he did wrong, I'm going to rip him limb from fucking limb!"
The room grew silent as dozens of eyes landed on Wales.
Germany stood up "Today's conference in adjourned! Everyone get out!"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Jan is your nose still bleeding?" Belgium asked.
"No Bella, and I said let me up, I need to go check on Alis!" Jan growled as he swatted at his sisters' hand. Bella crossed her arms and looked away. "You could have said please, you jerk."
Jans Eyebrow twitched a he left the room. "Well sorry!"
When the Dutchman made it to the hallway outside the empty office room. Aran sat on the floor with her knees to her chest while Ardal stood on the other side of the door leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, yelling could be heard inside the room.
Jan peaked through the crack on the door, the three nations stood in a triangle. Arthur and Alis were yelling, actually Arthur was doing most of the yelling, Allen stood frowning with his arms crossed, making an occasionally remark towards his younger brother.
Jan pulled away and looked at the Irish girl sitting on the floor. "I don't get it, why is England so pissed, don't you guys hate him?"
Aran lifted her head slightly and quoted her older brothers words. "Pregnant, and before marriage too! Is this how you honor our mother? By bearing a bastard child?" she scowled at The door and continued "You know the twins look at you and Allen as role models since I can't be there, you can't just go out and do these kind of things!"
"Mother?" Jan hesitated before asking.
"Our mother, Mamma Celtic she was the Celtic British Isles when we were all still little."
"Then why do you all hate England?"
Aran drew in a breath and looked away. "We all have our reasons... I hate him because I didn't want him sticking his nose in my business and then trying to force the British crown on my people. Other than that I'm just rebellious." The red head looked towards the door.
"Allen hates him because when he was under Arthurs' control he was a total dick and treated him like dirt, and then Queen Elizabeth had to go and decapitate Mary Queen of Scotts, then all that William Wallace shit during the 13th century plays in." Aran pointed at her twin.
"Ardal is the only one out of all of us who can talk to him for more than five minutes without trying to tear his head off and that's on a good day. But he, along with I, still hold a grudge over the potato famine back in 1845, right brother?"
Ardal, still glaring at the floor nodded. "Then there's Alis.
Aran nodded, "Right, then there's Alis." Jan looked down at Aran. "What's her story?"
She leaned her head against the wall and looked at the ceiling. "Let me begin by explaining a few things. First, Aliss' and Allens hate of Arthur goes back much farther than Adrals and I, Second, none of us are quite sure of our exact ages but Allen is the oldest by seven maybe eight centuries, then comes Arthur, then Alis not by much. Then Ardal and I.
Third, our names Aran, Ardal, Allen and Alis, those aren't out original names. Arthur made us pick new names when the British Empire was finally formed, we still use our old names but usually when were with each other."
"What are your names then?"
Aran gave a genuine smile. "My name was Palladeus." Ardal looked at her. "It still is sister."
Aran closed her eyes. "I know brother, Niall... Allens' name is Alba, and Aliss' name is Gwynedd, I remember because Mamma said she named her after one of the first welsh kingdoms. Now that every thing all settled we can begin the story. I was still a small child when Aliss' epic took place so the beginning might be a bit dodgy."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Note: Scotland (18), England(16) and Wales (14) are all physically teenagers
The four siblings stood around the table where a blood stained flag lay in tatters.
"Deartháir?" Niall began.
"Leave"
"Cad atá cearr-" Palladeus tried asking.
"Palladeus, Niall, leave. I need to speak with Alba alone." The two children nodded and silently left the room.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"I don't get it, why is she being so difficult, her and that damn Llywelyn! Things are becoming out of hand!"
"Brother" Alba consoled in a thick Scottish accent "I understand your plight, but she is angry and scared." The younger snorted. "Scared, last time I saw her she bore war paint and a blood stained sword."
"Gwynedd has caused stress on my part as well but, she's defending her land and people."
"None the less, I know what I must do to bring sister to her knees."
"My brother, what are you-"
"Brother you are an expert strategist are you not?"
"You should know this by now Brother."
"Alba if troops were patrolling this route, where do you think the best course of ambush would be?" Arthur asked as he replaced the tarnished flag with a large map marked with traveling routes
The Scotsman sighed and dragged his finger along the worn paper, "The route they would most likely take would be through here." He pointed to another section. "You could post Archers here, and here, and then set a small to medium battalion a few meters inside the tree line here. Arthur what are you planning?"
The younger turned towards the window and looked out into the winter night and gave no response.
The red head turned away from the table but kept his eyes locked on his brother. "Arthur, I'm leaving now, and I'm taking the twins with me as well, I don't want any part with what you are planning."
"If that is what you wish, then so be it, Alba."
Alba turned to leave "Ata o irmán próxima vez que pouco, Albion."
"It's England now." The other snapped.
Alba gave his younger brother one last look before leaving the room, the candles in the chamer cast glitters of light across the amored body of his english sibling. A stanger would have said he looked almost angel like, but in Albas' eyes he saw something diffrent...
Are you still there my brother? He thought as he exited the room.
"Alba, cad a tharla?" Palladeus asked as the elder sibling dressed her in her traveling cloak.
"An bhfuil Arthur dul chun Gwynedd?" Nialls questioned.
"Tá tú an dá fós óg a bheith buartha na nithe sin a." Alba replied to the two in Irish as they boarded the carriage.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Arthur do you see the patrol group?" Edward the first of England stood beside him, the blond nodded. "yes, i do"
The troops stood in a group, a few yards a head of the group were around a dozen people on hoarse back, the two in the front stood out. One was Prince Llyweln, the other was his dear sister Gwynedd. He raised his hand and gave the signal.
Arthur hesitated, he almost pittied them, they didn't stand a chance. The soliders bore the most basic of armor, His sister, good lord she was dressed in a commoners dress with a slit up the side with trousers underneath, she was almost defenseless, execpt for the armored metal corset bound to her torso and the sword belted to her hip. Her Extremly long hair drapped around her like a sandy blond veil.
These troops were hopless.
It had begun...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Gwynedd, ydych wedi bod braidd yn dawel." The prince commented
"Yr wyf yn teimlo rhywbeth, yn y coed." She replied
The two looked towards the sky, it had begun pouring down rain, adding to the bitter chill of the winter air.
All of a sudden a pain filled cry echoed in the air. The welsh girls' head snapped around and watched as a troop with an arrow in his chest fell to the ground.
"Rydym yn dan ymosodiad!" The welsh prince shouted, his boots kicking into the thieghs of the hoarse spuring it forward, he raised his sheild as the aunslaught of arrows rained upon the troops.
"Amddiffyn ein mamwlad!" Gwynedd shreiked as she pulled her sword from her belt and followed the other off the path.
Edward laughed as the troops were slaughtered by the swords of the English soldiers. "Like clay in our hands." Arthur laughed in agreement.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Almost all the troops on foot were dead; they lucky ones were being finished off by the archers, Arthur and Edward the first were tracking what was left of the prince, Gwynedd and the cavalry.
It was after night fall and still raining over the snow covered forest when an English archer jumped onto the wooded path, "what is it boy?" the archer pulled away a bush leading onto another path. "We found them sir." The Nation grinned as he spurred his horse down the path.
The path lead to a clearing, just as he expected, Llywelyns ' hoarse lie dead on the other side other clearing with six or seven arrows embedded in its chest. Four or five archers stood on the perimeter of the clearing, bows ready pointing towards the pair in center.
The last welsh prince lay in a slouched kneeling position, holding his upper stomach which pulsed blood with every heart beat. Gwynedd with one arm cradled his head against her chest while the other held him up by the armpit, her face covered in dirt and dried blood and tears, her green eyes darting around the area then locking on her armor clad brother. Arthur smirked "Hello, Llywelyn, Gwynedd"
"Pam?" she cried
One of the fallen Princes hands left the open wound and reached up and wiped the blood from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Gadewch i mi siarad"
She opend her mouth to obejuct but held her tounge. The wounded male then turned to Arthur.
"You must be England" he asked in semi-understandable English.
The Blond nodded and drew his sword, examining the iron blade. "Your end could have been different, but you chose to die, in the snow and rain shivering, by the hands of a blade." Arthur looked at the Prince. "Please tell me again why that is?"
Llywelyn swallowed. "I could not abandon my people. As I told your king, my ancestors have protected them since the days of Kamber, son of Brutus," a trail of blood began to dribble from the corner of his mouth, "I am sure you can understand such a thing, England."
"I see" Arthur looked at his sister. "Gwynedd, detach yourself from this man, he has chosen his fate."
It took her a few seconds to mentally translate what her brother had said before her eyes widened in shock. "Na, dim dim dim os gwelwch yn dda duw na!" she looked down at the prince "os gwelwch yn dda na! ni allant eich lladd!"
England gave an angry sigh and signaled his men to move forward. Two of the men pulled the welsh girl away from the dying prince, and the other two pulled the male to his feet as the blond stepped forward and readied his sword.
"Peidiwch â ladd ef os gwelwch yn dda!" she sobbed
He swung forward and a second later the was a sickening thud.
Wales crumpled to the ground, he body going limp. England slipped the swond back into it sheath, he waled over to his fallen sister and crouched dpwn net to her. "Sister are you alright?" he asked, his voice dripping wiht false worry.
"'n annhymerus' eich lladd!"
With lightning speed her arm whipped out from under her. A small dagger in her hand. As England pulled away the dagger put a cut on his cheek. Wales body was in cripling pain as she was tacking and pressed into submission as her brother punched her, she fell to the ground and the abuse continued as an armor clad foot kicker her in the side.
Her leader was dead
Her land was claimer by her english brother
She amry was no more
"Take the head of our fallen prince and put it in a cask of brnady, were taking it home with us."
She fell into blackness...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
When she awoke she was in a her bed.
No this wasn't her bed, this bed was to big, to soft. Her body, her body was on fire. She jumped as something cold was pressed against her face, a hand, soft. "lle ydw i'n"
"You are in my bed in my castle." His hand pulled away from her face and he pressed a cup to her lips, she sipped the water egarly, when the cup was empty he set it on the bedside table. "You missed it, we had a grand celebration of your land becoming part of the british emipire. The head of your prince is handing from the london tower, quite the sight."
"brother..." she began in horrid english.
"you can actually speak proper english?"
A frail hand reached up and grabbed his color and yanked his down until he was less then an few inches from her flushed face.
"Brother, if it is the last hing I ever do I swear to god that I will end your life."
She growled as her other hand reached over blindly grabbing until her sore fingers found a blade. Yes, it was her dagger! Her fingers wrapped around the hilt and she pulled her arm back, England moved away missing the blade by inches.
Arthur moved back towards her grabbing her wrist making her drop the dagger onto the blanket, Gwynedd cried out in pain.
Arthur pulled the blankets away from on top of her as he grabbed the knife wiht the other hand.
The female nation quikly relized her old clother had been replaced by a white night gown, most of ehr body covered in Bandages.
"Its seems, I still have yet to fully break you. You will soon lean not to trifle me!" the dagger cut from the top of her gown all the way to the bottom, Gwynedd relized what was about to become of her. "Mewn"
"Yes" Arthur replied as he straddled her tiny waist and began to undo the buttons of his shirt.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"I didn't really understand everything what was going to then but to end this extremely long story, during the time where our brother was capturing us into the British Empire and a few centuries following. Wales was like of like Arthurs Sex slave slash bitch." Palladeus turned to Jan. "satisfied?"
"Shocked"
"I was expecting that."
-SLAP-
Niall pushed himself off the wall. "Gwynedd!"
The three nations outside the door opened it and quickly entered the room. Gwynedd was slouched slightly holding her check. An Arthur hand was raised as if he had just smacked her, shock and horror written in his eyes. "Sister I-"
"Leave Arthur"
The brit looked defeated and sad as we walked past Jan and the twins exiting the room.
Alba put a hand on her shoulder. "Sister?"
Wales began to wobble slightly and then collapsed onto the floor.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
translations
"Deartháir?" –Brother? - Irish
"Cad atá cearr-" what's wrong? – Irish
"Ata o irmán próxima vez que pouco, Albion."-"Until next time little brother, Albion." – Galician( Scottish)
Note: before England, the area that would be known as England was known as Albion, so Albion is both Arthur and England's old name.
"Alba, cad a tharla?" -"Alba, what happened?" – Irish
"An bhfuil Arthur dul chun Gwynedd?" - "Is Arthur going to see Gwynedd?" - Irish
"Tá tú an dá fós óg a bheith buartha na nithe sin." - "You're both still too young worry of these things." – Irish
"Gwynedd, ydych wedi bod braidd yn dawel." - "Gwynedd, you have been rather quiet." – welsh
"Yr wyf yn teimlo rhywbeth, yn y coed." - "I felt something in the trees." – welsh
"Rydym yn dan ymosodiad!" - "We're under attack!" – welsh
"Amddiffyn ein mamwlad!" - "Protect our homeland!" – welsh
"Pam?" – "why? – welsh
Gadewch i mi siarad – please, let me speak – welsh
Na, dim dim dim os gwelwch yn dda duw na! - No, no no no please god no! - welsh
os gwelwch yn dda na! ni allant eich lladd! - please no! they can't kill you! – welsh
"Peidiwch â ladd ef os gwelwch yn dda!" - "Don't Kill him please!"
'n annhymerus' eich lladd – I'll kill you! - welsh
lle ydw i'n - where am i? – welsh
"mewn" – no – welsh
Historical notes:
In 1282 the English took the kingdom of Gwynedd, the last of the Welsh land not under English control. To this day Wales is known as England's first colony. Llywelyn the Last was indeed offered a substantial estate in England if he gave up his lands to the English. He refused using the exact words above. It is recorded that he was invited to speak with the English generals before the battle when the English army attacked. Llywelyn was then either cut down by a single horseman or separated from his army and killed later. His head was brought to London and after being taken down from the pillory was displayed on the gate of the Tower of London for fifteen years.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
This is the longest chapter I have ever written I think! I just couldn't stop writing I was having so much fun with this. Please Fav and review and fan art is appreciated!
Listen
Read phonetically
Dictionary - View detailed dictionary
