A Drive to Scotland

Ireland and Wales –

Wales was happy that England told Ireland to take North Ireland's motor bike. North Ireland was a reckless and crazy driver and he only became worst on his bike. Not that Ireland wasn't a reckless driver too but he wasn't as bad as his northern half. After Ireland threatened North Ireland with a hole punched through his forehead if he got one scratch on his car, the two set off. They were racing along the tarmac. After an hour or so, Ireland began talking. Wales leaned in closer so he could hear better.

"You shouldnae have said Alba's name in front of America." Wales didn't answer back but he knew Ireland was right. "He'll be gutted if America calls him that."

"I know…. I'm sorry…"

"Donnae say sorry to me!"

"I know…."

"Donnae sound so dour either! North Ireland was the one who told him it was Alba's bloody 'nickname'!" He sounded very annoyed at the stupidity of his big-mouth younger brother. Wales suddenly gripped Ireland tighter and rested his head on his shoulder.

"Will he be alright?..."

"Aye… It's Alba…"

"Aye. I ken… But they said he was in a right burach…"

"Wheesht! Stop havering arund! He'll be fine!" He said angrily, trying to convince them both.

"But Ireland!..."

"I sed STOP! This is Alba we're talkin' aboot! We'll find him! He'll grin at us and say 'Aye. I feel dandy!' Because he's our big broth!" Wales stopped talking. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning a little more on Ireland. Ireland's tone became softer as he tried to comfort his younger brother. "Trust me… he is fine…" Wales nodded, appreciating his brother's attempted gentleness. Ireland rarely sounded kind so Wales felt really touched.

"Ireland…"

"Aye?"

"I'm suddenly worried that North Ireland will tell America something important…" Ireland spluttered in sudden realisation.

"That eejit! He's got the biggest puss I have ever seen!" Wales smiled a little.

"It cannae be helped now… Let's just hope the damage isnnae too bad."

North Ireland and America –

North Ireland was disappointed when he couldn't ride his bike. After being told to not get the car scratched or Ireland was going to punch a hole somewhere… or something like that. He wasn't actually paying attention. As soon as Ireland had driven off on the motorcycle, North Ireland jumped into the car, slamming the door too hard. America leaped in too, slamming the door even harder. North Ireland floored it, before America had time to put on his seat belt. North Ireland didn't even bother putting on a seat belt.

"WHOOOOA DUDE!" North Ireland grinned and rolled down his window. America did the same. "Woohoo!" North Ireland swerved, almost hitting a car.

"AYE! We canne go faster!" He pressed harder on the gas, speeding up more. If it was any other country in the passenger seat, apart from America (and maybe Italy), they would have crapped their pants. North Ireland's driving speed slowed down a little when they got on the motorway. Both America and North Ireland hated silence so they tried to talk to each other. It was a little awkward at first, soon though they were chatting like old friends. (It must be nice to be them…) Until they started talking about Scotland.

"So why did ye batter Scotland?" America shifted awkwardly.

"Cause he hurt England… It's a hero's duty to protect his friends…" North Ireland paused in thought but he was still smiling. It took a lot to make Ireland stop smiling.

"But it's the 16th."

"Huh? And?" North Ireland rolled his eyes.

"Didnae Iggy tell you?" He smiled a little wider, not realising that this was not be his secret to tell. "The 16th of April is the one day a year that England let's Scotland haffa chance fer revenge! I thought you guys were close? Ye really didn't know?"

America didn't reply. He thought they were close too. Before he could ask why, North Ireland continued. "But every year Scotland doesnae do it… He goes easy on him… If it was me or Ireland, the debt woold have been paid years ago! Ye know big brother is sometimes a fair softie…."

"Huh? What do you mean? Didn't you see England? He can barely stand dude! That's revenge enough!" North Ireland shot a glare at America but he just glared back. The car sped up without the Irish man realising it.

"Enuff?" Ireland's voice had change from his earlier cheery one to absolute loathing. "Nae! If Scotland let me, I wouldnae stop at just hitting him!" America flinched. North Ireland calmed down a little and the car slowed again. "Nae… It isnnae enuff fer me… or fer Scotland… and England kens it… But Scotland… he wonnae do it…" He sounded a little sad or disappointed.

There was a long pause.

"Revenge for what dude?"

"Ye really donnae know?" America shook his head.

"It's tha day when they went ta far…."

"Huh?"

"Ye ken how England and Scotland fight aloot. They dinnae use ta. It started when Rome conquered England and eventually Wales. When he finally left, Wales was the same but wee Iggy wasnae. He was a different bairne. He and Scotland fought a lot afta that." He sighed."A lotta wars en battles…" America stared at North Ireland, eager to learn more about his ex-older brother.

"Francy en Scottie were very close friends back then. They sometimes have a… strange relationship now…. But back then, France was like another brother. They have tha longest alliance between two countries in history ye ken. If it wasnae fer the union, I think they would still have the alliance today. Anyway, Scotland had a rebellion against England in 1746. It was called tha Jacobite rebellion and Scotland almost defeated England."

"Wait, What? How the hell did that happened dude?" North Ireland grinned.

"Brother is strong by himself but so were his people. He hadda lotta support from France and some English men too. He won many battles easily with a famous move called tha 'Highland charge.'"

"Highland charge?"

"Aye! It's when you rush forward, swinging around your sword , screaming. Scary being on the receiving end. Scared the keech oot of me. A very powerful attack when used right."

"Wow! That sounds awesome." America had pictured a whole army of Scotlands running and screaming while waving around swords. North Ireland laughed a bit at America's reaction.

"The bigger the strength is when it's braw, the weaker it is when it goes boggin' though." North Ireland swerved around a lorry and barely dodged an oncoming car but both countries ignored it.

"Anyway, Scotland was just ootside tha capital. England's main army was elsewhere and it was a easy victory." America's eyes widen.

"Wait! I thought Scotland lost dude!"

"He dinnae attacked…."

"Huh?"

"He hadda chance ta beat England but he dinnae attacked. A false spy told his boss some bad information…. When Scotland heard the spy himself, he knew that the man was havering. He's smart like tha'. He decided nae to tell his boss though."

"Why?..." North Ireland shrugged, even though he knew the answer.

"Scotland visited England in the middle of tha night before the Jacobites left. Told him to nae bother attacking back cause he was leaving. Apparently when Iggy asked why, Scottie acted cruel, sayin' he dinnae have time to be fightin' a wee bairne. This made Iggy mad. Ye see, Iggy has been fightin' fer Scottie's recognition but he only see him as a wee broth. Even now…."

America stared at North Ireland. The story sounded scarily similar to what happened between him and England. A little too similar for his liking.

"Anyway, Scottie returned back to Scotland, all the way up to Invershnecky. He dinnae realised that Iggy had followed him with his main army. Scottie was tired from the rebellion and walking all night and day to get back home. When he found oot England had followed him, he was gutted. His boss told him there was going to be a battle, despite his protests. His boss wasnae a good fighter or thinker. Scotland's fighting knowledge was the reason why they were so successful so far. The boss dinnae listen to him, ignoring how weak and tired the men were and choosing a swampy flat land for the battle grounds, where the highland charge was nae possible."

"Dude, that guy sounds totally un awesome."

"Aye. I agree. The Battle of Culloden, as it was called, was quick, lasted less than an hour. Scotland's men attempted a Highland charge and failed. Almost 2000 Scots were killed while only about 50 Englishmen were killed. It was a brutal blood bath…." North Ireland's grip in the wheel tightened. America was actually a little shocked that England could act so cruelly towards his own brother, even if the brother was Scotland.

"That's totally…." America didn't really know how to describe it. "It doesn't seem like enough to want revenge this badly though…"

"It ain't! What England did next… That's was what broke Scotland!" North Ireland snarled a little in anger.

"Broke him? What? That not the end?"

"Nae! Scotland and England met just after tha battle. Scotland's boss, Prince Charlie, had scurried away to France. Since Scotland had lost, England felt like he deserved recognition. Scotland refused to give it to him. He said he admitted and accepted his defeat but England was still a wee bairne compared ta him. They began fightin' over it. The fight mirrored the entire rebellion almost exactly actually."

"Really?"

"Aye. Scotland used a claymore, a two handed sword, and England used a gun. Scotland had managed to knock England's gun away and held the sword to his neck. But he dinnae attacked or finished the fight. He plunged the claymore into the ground and walked away, once agen saying he dinnae wannae waste his time on a bairne." America watched the sadness and anger on the auburn man's face. He was used to seeing him smiled sweetly. He had smiled through most of the story, right up to the part about the Battle of Culloden. He gritted his teeth.

"Do ye ken what Scotland's most prized possession is?"

"Ummm… His really big sword… You know… the uh… Claymore?"

"Nar… His back…"

"His back?"

"Aye. Our brother always prided his back. Never ran from a fight so neva got a single cut or scar on it. Even against the invincible Roman Empire, he refused to run. I suppose he thought similarly to ye in tha point. Yer 'Heros neva run' stuff. Scotland believed deeply in that." America gazed at him. He really didn't think that he had anything in common with the red haired man.

"Oh…"

"And England took that…" Ireland squeezed the wheel tighter, then finally released it and breathed out in a long sigh.

"How?..." North Ireland sighed.

"Scotland had technically won tha fight by knocking away England's weapon but he didnae swing the finishing blow. He left the fight cause he couldnae hurt his wee bro like tha. He turned his back on his brother. England couldnae stand it, Scotland's refusal to recognise him as something other than his wee brother, so he grabbed his bayonet and…." North Ireland gulped a little and leaned his head to the side a bit. "He cut down Scotland while his back was turned…."

The car was now almost travelling at the speed limit. (This means North Ireland has slowed down a lot btw) America slammed his hands on the dash board, red faced.

"I know England, dude! He would totally never do that!"

"And we ken him betta! We were there when he was a wee babe!" America fumed, he knew North Ireland was right about that but he refused to accept that his close friend who attack his brother while his back is turned.

"I don't believe you dude! You guys just don't like England."

"Nar… Yer wrong aboot that…" Ireland looked out of the window. America was angry. He didn't want to believe North Ireland but he was curious to how the tale end.

"So… what happened next dude?..." He grumbled quietly. North Ireland suppressed a chuckle but smiled again, only to frown seconds later.

"Scotland fell and was captured… England's boss demanded that Scotland should be handed over to him. He wanted to make sure that there was never another Jacobite rebellion. England complied." It lacked the detail that the rest of the story had so America had a feeling that North Ireland was hiding something. He wanted to know more so prompted.

"And?"

"And whit?"

"What did England's boss do?" He demanded impatiently. North Ireland looked off to the side, clearly uncomfortable.

"Well… I suppose he suppressed Scotland's culture…"

"Suppressed his culture?…. How did he do tha~" He was interrupted suddenly.

"We're here!" North Ireland grinned as he turned left on to a long dirt road. Ireland crashed along the dirt road until a castle came into view.

"Scotland lives here?"

"Aye! This is his hoose!" Ireland and Wales were already here as they left first. Just before North Ireland jumped out of the car, America grabbed his sleeve.

"How does France know all this?" North Ireland tilted his head to the side.

"Cause he was meant ta be at tha battle ta help Scotland but he neva showed up. He abandoned his best friend when he needed him most. Scotland forgave him but Ireland still doesn't like him fer it."

"And what about you?" Ireland paused in thought, suddenly he grinned.

"If big brother forgives him then I will too…" He grabbed the door about to open it but turned around to say one last thing. "But if France leaves my brother like that agen or lets him down agen, then I will turn him into a boggin' burach!..." He threatened, smiling cheerfully. He added as he kicked open the door. "If you wannae know more, ask Iggy aboot Cumberland tha butcher!" He jumped out the door and ran to his brothers, grinning.

"Foos yer doos?"

"Braw…."

"Barry! Is my car barry, taa?"

"Aye!"

America exited the car to join them, just as France's car drove into view.

France and England –

"So nice that you pair us together, oui? Vous wanted to be alone together?" England was in the back seat, barely able to sit up.

"Shut up… you git…"

"So why did you pair us together, mon cher?" France said in a teasing voice. England panted a little.

"Be-because… I-I don't w-w-want… my br-brothers-ers… to s-see me…. w-w-weak…" He sounded very weak and tired. France sighed at the lacked of strength in his reply.

"Tu est at your limit. Angleterre." England didn't reply.

"Angleterre?" He looked over his shoulder.

"He's asleep?" He sighed. He didn't want to sit, not talking, driving a passed out England to Scotland's house. If his friend wasn't in immediate danger, he would pull over to the side of the road and molest England while he's passed out. He thought about what England had said about not wanting to appear weak.

"Mon petit Angleterre… Tu do not understand ton frères at all…." He sighed. This was going to be a long journey for him….

(A/N - Yep. North Ireland has a big mouth and doesn't know when to shut up. This is pretty historical accurate to some degree. I made Scotland's boss Bonnie Prince Charlie who in all rights was an idiot. His generals voted against leaving England and against using marsh land as a battle field but he ignored them. Because of him, Scotland went through years of suppression. It was bad to be Scottish at the time. Clans were broken up, tartan and bagpipes were banned, Gaelic (Scotland's native language) was banned and replaced with English. People who resisted the change was killed without a second thought and anyone suspected of being a Jacobite was killed without a trial. All the land which legally belong to the Scotsmen was taken away from them and given to rich English lords and ladys who placed heavy taxes on the land. Scottish people had to pay t live on their own land or be killed. Many men were killed so they could not rebel or fight back. In a nutshell - It sucked... It really really sucked.

You can still see some of the effects today. The most obvious one being that less than 1% of Scottish people can actually speak Scottish Gaelic. Some Scottish people know nothing about Gaelic what so ever! I find this personally outrageous as a proud scots woman... Unfortunatly I can't speak Gaelic either...

I live in Inverness actually which is right beside the 'Battle of Culloden' field. So I know what I'm talking about. Cumberland the butcher was the English army's leader and the man in charge of destorying all remains of Scottish culture so there would be no more Jacobites. He was brutal and vicious and kinda porky. (fat)

Translations -

Alba - Another name for Scotland that some Scottish people like to use. Ireland, North Ireland and Wales use it as a pet name. Scotland only lets his brothers call him that though as he finds it a very personal way to call him.

Burach - mess

Ken - understand but it can mean know

Havering - talking nonsense (usually associated with being drunk and slurring)

dandy - fine, great

puss - mouth

eejit - Gaelic for idiot (like the only Gaelic world i know... -.-)

Gutted - emotional blow

Babe - baby

Braw - good

Barry - splendid

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