A Day in the life of the Brother V

Just before the sun was about to set, the children arrived home.

A figure sat on a large boulder in the field waiting for them. She smiled as the bare-footed children entered.

"It's rare for the shoes to appear before the people." She gestured to three pairs of boots and two pairs of cloth booties on the ground. She stood up at all five children ran towards, leaning forward to hug them.

"Mam!"

"Máthair!"

"Mater"

"Máthair!"

"Màthair!"

The young children buzzed around her excitably while she laughed joyfully and kissed each one on the fore head once. Scotland was still carrying England in his arms. Britannia hugged the cluster of children.

"Have you been good, boys?"

"Aye!"

"Oof course!"

"Ywes!"

"Aye!"

"Ywes!"

"Good. You are all so amazing. Ireland, how is your temper? North Ireland, I hope you were not talking too excessively. Wales, I see that your magic aura is a lot stronger; you are taking after your oldest brother that way. England, I hope you are getting stronger and Scotland, you seem to be doing a fine job, taking care of all your little brothers."

She praised each one giving them a hug. They blushed and stared up at her in amazement. She was an other being compared to them, almost a goddess. She picked up England from Scotland's grasp and bounced him gently on her hip.

"Where were you today màthair?"

"Did you miss me Scotland?" He nodded furiously, holding onto the bottom of her long dress. Ireland and North Ireland were right behind him. She smiled and stroked the crimson hair back from his face so she could look at him clearly. She caressed his cheek gently.

"I was with a man named Germania. Do you remember meeting him?" Scotland scrunched up his brow cutely as he thought back.

"Was he that really tall blond? The one with the braid?" She smiled and knelt down so she was kneeling on the ground.

"Yes. He is a very special man to me." Scotland frowned slightly and hugged the beautiful blond, still standing.

"He's nae as important as us right?" He sounded slightly panicked. Britannia laughed kindly at how easily jealous Scotland was. Her light green eyes which mirrored England's perfectly stared into Scotland's bright emerald eyes.

"No. You five are my most special men. No one can replace you. I love you all so much." Scotland blushed a little. England had fallen asleep in her arms. He snoozed quietly.

"Why is he important?" Ireland asked curiously.

"Because I love him too. He is England's father." The children who were still awake stared at England in wonder. None of them had fathers so that fact that England had one was strange to them.

"Why donnae we haffa athair?" Britannia paused. She didn't really know. Some countries had mothers, some had some had fathers, some have both and some have neither. Britannia herself had no parents.

When Scotland was born, she was only 16 and had no idea of how to look after and protect a young child. It took a while but eventually she was older and could look after a child. She was 25 when her second child, Ireland, was born. She finally came up with an answer.

"Because that was how you were made." The naïve children easily accepted the answer. North Ireland jumped up suddenly.

"We git a surprise fer ye! Me, Alba and Ireland caught a deer!" The other two joined in. They ran over to the cave and dragged up the big cloth package. They unrolled the messily tied fabric to reveal a small baby deer with small blood stains on it.

"See! We hunted it by ourselves!"

"We shot arrows at it!"

"And chased it!"

"And jumped it!"

"We were so strong!"

"And fast!"

"It was amazing!"

Britannia smiled widely at the deer. Its pelt was too tattered to use as cloth because the children were too rough and aggressive in their hunt but it looked young and would give delicious tender meat.

"Great work! We will be able to have fresh meat tonight! I'll cook it soon." She placed England on the grass by her side. "First though, we need to make a fire. Can I trust you boys to fetch the wood?" They all nodded. The four boys turned to run into the woods when Britannia's hand stopped Scotland.

"Scotland. Do you mind staying with me to talk while you brothers get the wood?" Ireland, North Ireland and Wales all glanced at each other while Scotland grinned.

"Aye." The other boys jogged off, looking behind them to Scotland. The woman stood up gracefully and Scotland marvelled at how elegant she was compared to him and his brothers. She walked out of the clearing and Scotland followed in a daze. He grabbed onto her hand and clung to it.

He missed her when she was gone so always tried to stick as close to her as possible. She walked through the woods, looking around at the trees. There were thousands of mythical animals were following the dual. Magic attracts magic and Britannia had very powerful magic.

"I see that your brothers are growing well." She paused. "Even England is looking healthier. I'm glad you are being so a loving older brother." Scotland hummed in reply. "Wales' magic ability has grown too. Have you been teaching him?"

"Aye. Just a couple of wee spells though. He is really braw at them. Even betta than Ireland and North Ireland." She laughed. He loved her laughter. It sounded like a silver bell. "Yes. That is to be expected of hım. How is your magic then?"

"Hmmm… It's still hard tae control and use properly…" He complained.

"I know. It's just the seal. It resists you using any magic at all so you have to try twice as hard to use it."

"Why dee I hafta hav' a seal? The others dinnae have one." She stopped and looked down at Scotland with a small sad smile.

"It's to keep you and your brothers safe. You have too much magic…" Scotland tightened his grip.

"I'm sorry…" He was apologising for something he couldn't control so Britannia suddenly felt guilty.

"I should be the one who is sorry. I wish you didn't need a seal and you could freely use all your magic all the time." She leaned down and gave him a big hug. "I'm so sorry. You will have to have this seal for the rest of your life." She sounded upset. Her light green eyes were glistening slightly with un-shredded tears.

"I need to check up on the seal. Okay?" Scotland nodded. The ten year old held out his hand. The blonde put a thumb on his palm and applied a little pressure.

Scotland flinched even though there was hardly any pressure. Dark navy blue, almost black, lines and patterns appeared on his pale white skin. They made Celtic knots, Pictic patterns, tribal designs and other indescribable shapes that interlinked with each other in a complicated way. They hummed with a silver energy and seemed to be alive and moving on his skin.

Britannia examined the lines and shapes with interest. It twisted up the left side of his face and framed his left eye and jaw line. It covered his back and shoulders and parts of his arms and legs, leaving some of his skin un-touched while completely covering other parts. It was beautiful in a strange, magical way.

It reminded her of Scotland's main people, the Picts. They were strange people, very different from the Celts that inhabited the other brothers and the south of Scotland, with odd social habits like exogamy, totemism, women warriors and a strange language that only they (and Scotland though he rarely uses it as his brothers don't know it and they are the only people he knows) knew.

They were a very distinct race that took pride in beautiful tattoos that covered their entire body in unique shapes and patterns. Another name for them was the 'Painted Ones'.

Scotland stared at his free palm with had crawling patterns flowing and moving up his arm.

"It's looking good, as strong as ever." She released his palm and the pattern faded back into his skin.

"That's barry, right?"

"Right."

They walked a little more while Scotland told his mother all about his adventures with his brothers. She loved listening to Scotland tell his stories. She wished she could be with her children all the time but she was often required elsewhere. Her small island has recently been in the midst of clan wars where humans fought other humans.

Germania had warned her that the Roman Empire had just conquered and killed the country to the south of the water.

The country had been called Gaul. She had only seen and talked to her once or twice and seen, from a distance, a child that was probably her off spring. That young boy, only the same age as North Ireland and with the appearance of a blonde female, would now be the replacement country. She heard that his name was Franks or France.

It also seemed that the empire had plans to invade her shores but she won't allow that as long as she is alive. While she lives, Rome will not be able step a foot on her land or her son's. Germania also assured her that if Rome did try to conquer her, he would step in and stop his friend.

She felt safe and she also felt that her children were safe so she felt content.

She was a little drawn back when she discovered that some of her boys had made blood oaths but it wasn't surprising, they were all very close.

"Did you learn any new spells recently?"

"Aye. I learnt a lot."

"Really?"

"Aye. Nae seal is gonnae stop meh from learning and using magic!" She laughed quietly and uneasily.

A seal was a horrible thing for magical beings to have, especially if it is one designed to completely contain magic. She was shocked that even after she had placed the seal on him, he was still able to use it if he tried hard enough. It wouldn't pour out of him in his sleep or by accident when he got emotional anymore but he was still surprisingly strong.

She knew it caused him a mild pain to use it but he loved using magic too much to be deterred so she taught him magic. He made swift process and soon was like any normal human wizard. It amazed her that his power still continued increasing as he learned more and more.

"I'll show you!"

The small red head held his hand out in front of himself. He concentrated on his palm, mumbling under his breath. Britannia could see the strain as the hand burst into flames. Once his hand was ablaze though, he eased his concentration.

He changed the hot red flames into freezing blue ones and then into bright white ones that almost blinded them and finally into black flames that absorbed the surrounding light and colour. Britannia was actually impressed.

The first one was a basic fire spell but the next three were obviously complex and the last one was easily one of the most complicated flame spells that she had seen. A flame that takes in light and heat instead of expelling - it was a spell against the laws of nature. But that was what magic was.

The flames flickered out slowly.

"I taught Cyrmu the first one tae."

"Did you?"

"And how ta breathe it oot like a dragon! He really loves the dragons and they love him back."

"You managed to teach him so much. You are such a great older brother. That is really amazing!" Scotland blushed under the praise. He blinked in surprise as they re-entered the clearing.

The pile of wood in the middle was quite big. Every now and again Wales, Ireland or North Ireland would run out of the forest to add to it.

North Ireland was the quickest, appearing every couple of seconds with a large pile of small twigs in his arms.

Ireland would come a lot less often but he would have far bigger bits of wood and more of it.

The 3 year old Wales was the slowest with the small amount of wood because of his age.

(A/N - Scotland's fırst language was Pictich. No one knows what it sounds like or where it comes from so it is a very mysterious language.

Excluding Scotland – Ireland is the strongest physically, North Ireland is the fastest and Wales is the strongest magically.

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