A Day in the life of the Brother VI
They finished adding the wood as Scotland appeared.
Ireland ran up to Scotland almost instantly. He stood awkwardly at his side while North Ireland just jumped onto the red head.
"Nae fair Alba! Ye dinnae had ta git anae wood!" Scotland scowled and pushed the auburn off.
North Ireland jumped at him and a small play fight began which ended when Scotland managed to get him on the ground, roll him over and sit on top of him. The Irish boy whined about his weight. The red head stood and pulled the five year old auburn up and dragged him over to the wood pile. He plopped the boy on top.
"There! I collected some wood now." Wales giggled quietly while Ireland laughed loudly. Britannia smiled too.
They may be a little savage and wild but they were happy and healthy. North Ireland crawled off the pile, grinning. A small dragon wrapped himself around Wales, who clung to it in return. The air was quickly cooling as night came.
Britannia used a little magic to light the fire before it became dark. It burst into life, waking England with a start.
Oranges, reds and pinks were starting to spread across the sky as the sun begun to set. A small dragon appeared at the edge of the clearing, drawn by the heat and magic.
The boys were busy starring into the sky at the colours in wonder and turning to see the source of them. The sunset always dazzled them when it was clear enough to see so they loved to watch it. They loved the way it always painted the sky with strange colours that was unique every time it appeared.
The brothers huddled together on the ground as they watched the light blues, reds, oranges and vibrant pinks be slowly swallowed by a dark ink blue.
Scotland had England on his lap with Ireland leaning on one shoulder and North Ireland on the other shoulder and Wales sat on Ireland's lap with a baby dragon clinging onto his head and shoulders. They all leaned back on a large boulder, sharing the same body heat.
The gorgeous blonde, who was their mother, prepared the deer carcass and cooked the meat. She threw away the useless, battered pelt away after she had skinned it. The children had been too violent in the hunt and when they dragged it back.
Fat dripped from the meat as it slowly cooked over the open flames, sizzling and filling the meadow with a tantalising scent. Humans would fear that this may attract wolves or bears or any other dangerous animals that roamed the ancient island but the family knew they were safe.
The meat was soon cooked.
The boys rushed to the edge of the fire to retrieve the venison. They held the hot meat in their hands and chew on it hungrily. They only had one main meal a day, the rest of their diet was just any berries or other edible things they find during the day.
Sometimes they had meaty steaks, sometimes a stew or a soup or sometimes porridge. The five children and the woman soon had eaten their fill, finishing the deer so there was no more left.
Night had completely set by now and the only light belonged to the full moon, stars and fire. The air was freezing now, except by the fire.
They ran around the fire a bit. Wales sang a song he had heard. He was a naturally brilliant singer and had a beautiful voice when he was heard. Scotland danced. He was a good as dancer as Wales was a singer. North Ireland and Ireland were only very good at river dancing and average at other dancing and singing.
They chased each other around the field, sometimes dancing with Scotland.
England, when he grows up, will be good at playing instruments but for now, he toddled around.
Scotland suddenly ran at the fire and did a huge leap over it. The orange and yellow flames flickered around him in the jump, barely touching him. The bright red heart of the fire sent heat bursting upwards, tousling his hair wildly and highlighting the bloody crimson with streaks of glowing orange and yellow.
He landed, barefooted on the cold, damp grass on the other side. He grinned after making such a daring jump.
Ireland was going to attempt it but was stopped by Britannia's voice. She told him that since he was six, he was not allowed to try. Ireland pouted and pointed out that Scotland was only 10. She smiled and said Scotland was not allowed to do it anymore.
She had pulled out some fur pelts to sit and lie on. One belonged to a bear, one belonged to a brown bear and two belonged to a lynx. The fur was thick and warm.
Wales was curled up on one of the lynx pelts. It greyish brown pelt was soft.
Britannia sat on the wolf one. She looked strong, young and powerful. She held herself like a queen. Her ivory skin reflected the fire and her long blonde hair, which was held up in plaits with buttercups and other wild flowers, had a silvery white shine to it. Her eyes were large and a light green, framed by large blonde eye lashes. Her eye brows were normal sized (apparently huge eyebrows only affect the males in the family and the females all have normal eyebrows). Her dress was a shimmering blue, and was so thin it looked like it was made of the same material as butterfly wings and reached past her feet.
She watched as her sons slowly began to tire. One by one they retreated to the pelts. Scotland lied down on the huge brown bear fur with England beside him, only taking up about a quarter of the full area. He held the small blonde before falling asleep.
Ireland and North Ireland shared a lynx pelt, trying to sleep. After a while though, they moved onto the bear hind, followed by Wales. They fell asleep quickly but Britannia stayed awake.
She watched her sons. The slept in a huddle of tangled small bodies, desperate to stay warm as the fire dimmed.
Scotland was holding the 2 year old England to his chest protectively.
Ireland clung onto Scotland's back with one hand while he tossed and turned restlessly in his sleep, occasionally kicking or punching the back of the red head and sleeping in an awkward sprawled out position, snoring loudly.
North Ireland had his arms wrapped around Scotland's waist using Scotland's stomach as a pillow, refusing to loosen his grip.
Wales was curled up into a tiny ball by Scotland's feet, with only his light brownish blonde hair and cloak showing.
England was hugging Scotland with all his tiny might.
The four younger brothers all gathered around the oldest one in an adorable way. The small dragon from earlier with Wales lied at Scotland's head. A couple of fae had already taken the spare lynx pelts and stored them back in the cave.
(A/N - Their sleepıng habits have not changed at all in over 2000 years...
The animal pelts belong to animals that used to inhabit Britain years ago but are now extinct in our country.
A Welsh stereotype is that they always sing and they think they are good at it (though some argue against how good they actually are…). I think that Wales would be an awesome singer and people who would usually over look him, can't look away when he's singing. He can change his voice to match most songs; from high pitched girly voice to a low manly voice. He chooses to be quiet because he considers most of his brother's fathers petty pointless or annoyingly loud but when he sings, he is very, very loud.
A Scottish stereotype is that we are good dancers. Scotland is an energetic and quick on his feet but with little training, he doesn't know a lot of modern dances. However, if he took time to learn, he would quickly be great at them. He is also surprisingly flexible (France loves that about him for other reasons….) and his thin, muscly body is good at moving.
I have suddenly noticed that Wales hair colour jumps from blonde to light brown…. The truth is that it is both. (It all depends on the light, if it is bright it appears blonde but if it is dark it appears light brown.)
Review please!)