[USxUK] My Fair Lady [4/5]
Jun. 27th, 2011 08:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blood_wingedTitle: My Fair Lady
Genre: Romance
Characters/Pairing(s): USxUK
Rating/Warnings: PG. Genderswap.
Summary: Yet another of Arthur's magical mishaps lands him in more trouble than he can handle, with a strange new body to (temporarily) deal with and as if that wasn't enough, he has Alfred hanging around.
*****
“Ariaaaaaah~”
Alfred came stomping up the stairs and Arthur fumbled quickly with the buttons of his shirt, finding the reversed position more difficult than he ever imagined he would. He was sliding a waistcoat on when Alfred knocked on the door, poking his head in when Arthur said he could. The American was grinning from ear to ear, and Arthur had the feeling that although they had only been home for an hour, Alfred had managed to do something that would once again test his patience. This was confirmed a moment later when Alfred held up a DVD case, wiggling it at the other. “Paranormal Activity two!” he said. “Will you watch it with me?”
“No.” Arthur’s reply was instant, and Alfred’s expression fell. He pouted slightly and looked down, then back up as Arthur straightened his shirt and buttoned up the waistcoat, toying with the ruffles on the shirt and twitching the cuffs down. It was strange yet somehow comforting how fragments of the old styles always managed to come back around.
“Please?”
He was doing that look again. That huge-eyed, pleading look that made Arthur simultaneously weak at the knees and gave him a near overwhelming urge to punch it right off his face. He was holding the DVD case in both hands in front of his chest, his feet slightly turned together and his shoulders hunched, head tilted down. Arthur sighed quietly, wondering why, oh why, Alfred had to do this to him, but before he knew what he was doing he was nodding and Alfred had made a ‘glee!’ sound and gone thundering off downstairs.
Arthur looked at himself in the mirror. It had been two days, and he was still uncomfortable in this body, but he wasn’t feeling the nauseating sensation of all his insides being rearranged anymore and he’d worked out the correct way to stand so that he didn’t feel like he was going to topple forwards. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. The denial of being afraid… the screaming… the inevitable clinging… and to hell if Alfred was going to sneak into his bed when he was looking like this.
When he finally made his way downstairs Alfred was moving about in the kitchen, shoving popcorn into the microwave that he’d got from god-knew-where and pouring two large glasses of soda. His eyes brightened when Arthur walked in, and he grinned, tapping two fingers off his forehead in a mock salute. Arthur snorted softly, then covered his nose, thinking that must have been a rather unladylike gesture but Alfred didn’t seem to have noticed, too busy leaning in front of the microwave and watching the plate inside turn. His pants were riding too low, Arthur noticed, before he caught himself and gave himself a mental slap for even thinking such a thing. Averting his eyes, he waited until he heard the sound of the microwave opening, and popcorn being shaken into a bowl.
“This is gonna be great,” Alfred enthused, shuffling through to the living room and dropping down on the couch heavily enough to send several bits of popcorn flying over the carpet. “This movie is supposed to be really creepy, but don’t worry, I’ll hold onto you so you don’t get scared.” The young blonde wrinkled his nose and shifted, scooting forwards across the carpet to put the DVD into the player. “God, this thing is ancient. I hope it doesn’t ruin my disk.”
Arthur found himself bristling slightly, struck with the urge to defend his DVD player which was, admittedly, several years old. He closed one eye and held it back, sitting down and picking up a piece of popcorn, chewing on it a little sullenly while he watched Alfred fiddle around in front of the television. He had it working soon enough and dropped back onto the couch, holding the bowl of popcorn in his lap.
He was shivering before the movie even started. Arthur knew exactly where this was going.
Of course, he was right. Within minutes of the opening sequence Alfred was sitting with wide eyes fixed on the screen, his fingers moving in and out of the bowl of popcorn but never actually picking anything up. Arthur wasn’t really impressed, and neither were the two fairies sitting on the arm of the chair beside him. They almost made him laugh with the way they poked their tongues out and raspberried at the television, but he pressed his lips together and kept his eyes forwards. Those security cameras were going to be trouble, he just knew it, and he found himself holding back a snort as he watched one of the characters burning sage to ward off evil spirits. He had no idea what had made her think that would work.
“I wonder if Arthur ever used one of those boards,” Alfred whispered beside him.
“Of course he has,” Arthur muttered back, feeling the American stiffen beside him and sensing the younger man’s large blue eyes on his face. He shifted, looking at Alfred, seeing the barely disguised fear in them and sighing impatiently. “What did you expect?”
“Uh.” He looked away, then someone screamed on the television and Alfred let out a shriek, clinging to Arthur’s arm with a vice-like grip. Moments later he had his arms around him and his face buried in long blonde hair, whimpering something that sounded like ‘scary… scary…’ as he trembled. Huffing, Arthur patted the top of his head and felt something in his heart twist at the noise the boy made in response. He really was still just such a child…
“I should have known this would happen,” the English nation said, and he felt Alfred’s eyelashes move against his neck as he blinked. “You always get like this with scary films.”
“I do no-… how do you know that?” Alfred seemed to have given up his usual pretence and was looking at his companion with his eyes slightly narrowed now. Arthur felt a cold flush run through him, from his head to his feet and goosebumps rose on his arms. His breath stuck in his throat and he leaned back, trying to get out of Alfred’s grip but the American wasn’t letting him go. “What has Arthur told you?” The relief at those words was almost tangible, and Arthur almost laughed, the sputtering chuckle that he caught in the back of his throat making the young man beside him frown.
“Arthur has told me a great deal about you,” he told the other, seeing that frown deepen. He knew that he was treading on shaky ground here, but Alfred was only half paying attention, his eyes continually darting back to the television as the movie continued to play.
“Wh… Why would he do that?” It was rather clear that Alfred was doing his best to concentrate and he wasn’t doing a very good job of it, and after a minute of stopping and starting in attempts to speak to the man, Arthur reached over him and grabbed the remote, pausing the film.
“Because I listen,” he said then. “I’ve told you before.”
“Oh, yeah…” The American said, his death-grip on the other relaxing now that the film had stopped. Arthur took a breath, and shifted.
“I’m going up to bed.”
“W-what?!” Alfred’s grip tightened again and Arthur let out a quiet wheezing sound, wincing. “You can’t go, the movie isn’t finished!” There was no changing his mind or consoling him, and he wouldn’t let Arthur go no matter how much he tried to say he was tired and wanted to go up to bed. Arthur sat and dealt with the man’s clinging and crying out in fear for another hour before the debacle of a film ended and he finally pulled away, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. While he played out his usual routine of saying how scary the film was and how he wanted to watch it again, Arthur wormed out of his grip and stood up, brushing himself off. The prolonged contact with the man had left him tingling all over, and he ignored the shouts that followed him as he made his way upstairs and changed for bed. The day had been tiring, and his legs were already beginning to ache in a way that said he’d be sore in the morning, and he might have been irritated were it not for how much knowledge Alfred had displayed about his capital city. It had given him a great deal to think about, and perhaps the wish to be a little kinder to the boy when he was finally back to normal. He still didn’t know why the American nation wanted to see him so badly, but it was becoming rather clear that he wasn’t going to leave until ‘Arthur’ returned. All he needed to do was figure out some way to fix this problem without Alfred walking in on him.
He could not have been sleeping more than half an hour before the sound of his door opening roused him. Arthur kept his eyes closed, listening to the sound of light footsteps padding over the thick carpet, and he felt the faint dip as someone sat down on the edge of the bed. Even though the movement could only be small, he felt Alfred – for it could only be Alfred – fidgeting and probably debating with himself over what he should do. He was sitting on a bed beside a woman he barely knew, or rather, Arthur thought with a barely contained smile, a woman that he believed he barely knew. He ought to have seen this coming. Alfred was so predictable with how he reacted to things that frightened him, and the English nation wasn’t the least bit surprised when the ‘dip’ shifted and the covers were pulled back, the young man slipping into the bed beside him but keeping his distance.
Arthur settled again, but it wasn’t long before he was disturbed. He both felt and heard Alfred move, and he sighed, feeling the other’s eyes on him.
“Ariah?” Alfred’s voice was soft, whispering in the way that most people are inclined to whisper in a quiet space, whether they need to or not.
“… Mm,” said Arthur, listening to more shifting behind him.
“Is it okay if I sleep here?”
“… Sure.”
“Thanks.”
Alfred was quiet for a little while longer, and despite the way he was breathing making it clear that he wasn’t asleep, Arthur began to drift off again. When he woke it was still dark, and Alfred was still in bed beside him, one hand curled up on the pillow beside his face. Arthur sat up slowly and looked down at him, reaching out and coming within an inch of brushing the hair from his forehead before he quickly pulled back and slipped from the bed, giving one last look over his shoulder and closing the door behind him. He moved down the stairs, hopping carefully over the one step that creaked and was almost holding his breath when he reached the bottom. A look at the grandfather clock softly ticking away the seconds in the hallway told him that he had only been asleep a few hours, and with some luck, Alfred would still be asleep for some time yet.
He made his way into the kitchen and to the door that led down to the basement, unlocking it and making his way down the narrow stone steps. The door at the bottom swung open as he touched it, and snapped shut behind him as he walked through, and the tingle of magic in the place raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Letting out a sigh, he dropped into one of the several chairs scattered about, ignoring the slide of parchment as a pile of the stuff fell from the arm. He closed his eyes, listening to the soft chatter in the room that only he would be able to hear, and remained that way for several long moments. His fingers tightened on the arms of the chair and he pulled himself up, moving across to one of the several large bookcases lining the far wall.
It was then that he realised he had no idea where to start.
A fairy fluttered down to land on his shoulder, looking at him with turquoise eyes and folding back silver wings finer than gossamer. She peered at him as if she knew that something was different but couldn’t put her finger on what it was, and Arthur sighed.
“What am I supposed to do, Reedglow?” he muttered, seeing her shrug out of the corner of his eye. “Helpful as always,” he said, and she poked her tongue out at him, pulling on his hair as she flew away. Arthur rubbed a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, and felt a heated tightening in his throat. No, he wouldn’t let himself be stuck like this. He’d find some way to fix this, he just needed some time. He muttered something under his breath and picked a book at random, the volume heavy enough to require carrying with both arms, and he set it on the table, pulling it open. Each bound page was scrawled with messy handwriting – his own. Spells, incantations, potions… so many things that he no longer had the skill to attempt.
“What am I supposed to do?” he said again, looking at the writing as if he could speak to his past self. Though, he knew better than to attempt that… the last time he had tried, his ‘self’ of the 19th century hadn’t been too pleased with what he had seen in the modern world. That had been one hell of a mess to fix. He wouldn’t lose his head over this. He couldn’t afford to. If this was how he was supposed to spend the rest of his life then so be it, but he wasn’t going to let it get to him. Arthur shook his head, flicking his hair back over his shoulders. “I can deal with this,” he told himself. He turned his back on the room and made his way back up the stairs, locking the door behind him.
At least the scent of tea was settling. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup clasped between his hands he closed his eyes and thought, letting his mind become aware of the shape his body was in. He’d been doing his best to ignore it so far, but now he took it all in. Some things were familiar. He could still feel the faint twinge of the brand on his hip and the way the scar across his chest pulled taut when he moved. A finger at his throat found the faint mark put there by Prussia so many years ago, and he could taste blood in his mouth as he thought of it. Few nations had pushed him to death with such determination. He dropped his head to the table and closed his eyes, feeling the press of his chest up against the edge of the wood.
It was there that Alfred found him. The American had woken alone in Arthur’s bed, as he had expected – the man had always been an early riser and no doubt his family was no different – and he had spent a little time stretching and enjoying being comfortable before he got up. He hadn’t expected to discover his host asleep at the kitchen table, her head propped up on her arms and a half finished cup of tea in front of her. The sight struck something deep in his chest and he crept closer, crouching, tilting his head to look at the other’s face. She was familiar to him in a lot of ways and he hadn’t been able to put his finger on just why so far, but now that she was still and he could look at her properly he was beginning to realise. He recognised the faint uptilt of the end of her nose and the faint scar in her left earlobe. The way her hair parted, a little crooked, was familiar to him as well. Alfred glanced towards the basement door and bit his lip, then moved over to the table and took the female by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake.
Arthur woke up with a soft grumble and looked up to see Alfred grinning down at him.
“Good morning,” he muttered, straightening slowly and easing the soreness out of his back and shoulders. A sigh was cast down towards the cold tea in front of him, and he got up, feeling the American’s eyes on him as he moved around the kitchen. A quiet scraping sound announced that Alfred had sat down, and Arthur turned the kettle on again.
“Hey, Ariah?” he said, and Arthur made a sound of acknowledgement. “You know, Arthur always says he doesn’t get along with his family.”
“That’s just his brothers,” Arthur said. Alfred made an ‘aah’ noise and rested his chin on his palm. With his back turned, Arthur didn’t see the smile curving his lips up.
“It must be nice for him to have you around to talk to.”
“Mm.”
“And he tells you everything?”
“A lot of things.”
“My birthday?”
“July 4th.”
“My favourite colour?”
“Blue.”
“My middle name?”
“Foster.”
Arthur stopped what he was doing, just short of putting the lid on his teapot as he heard Alfred’s chair scrape back. The quiet padding of his feet on the wooden flooring drew closer, and then two warm arms were wrapped around his waist and Alfred had his nose lightly pressed against his hair. He froze, and for a moment he was sure he felt his heart stop as Alfred spoke quietly.
“Hello, Arthur.”
------------
<| Chapter Three | Chapter Five |>
Genre: Romance
Characters/Pairing(s): USxUK
Rating/Warnings: PG. Genderswap.
Summary: Yet another of Arthur's magical mishaps lands him in more trouble than he can handle, with a strange new body to (temporarily) deal with and as if that wasn't enough, he has Alfred hanging around.
*****
“Ariaaaaaah~”
Alfred came stomping up the stairs and Arthur fumbled quickly with the buttons of his shirt, finding the reversed position more difficult than he ever imagined he would. He was sliding a waistcoat on when Alfred knocked on the door, poking his head in when Arthur said he could. The American was grinning from ear to ear, and Arthur had the feeling that although they had only been home for an hour, Alfred had managed to do something that would once again test his patience. This was confirmed a moment later when Alfred held up a DVD case, wiggling it at the other. “Paranormal Activity two!” he said. “Will you watch it with me?”
“No.” Arthur’s reply was instant, and Alfred’s expression fell. He pouted slightly and looked down, then back up as Arthur straightened his shirt and buttoned up the waistcoat, toying with the ruffles on the shirt and twitching the cuffs down. It was strange yet somehow comforting how fragments of the old styles always managed to come back around.
“Please?”
He was doing that look again. That huge-eyed, pleading look that made Arthur simultaneously weak at the knees and gave him a near overwhelming urge to punch it right off his face. He was holding the DVD case in both hands in front of his chest, his feet slightly turned together and his shoulders hunched, head tilted down. Arthur sighed quietly, wondering why, oh why, Alfred had to do this to him, but before he knew what he was doing he was nodding and Alfred had made a ‘glee!’ sound and gone thundering off downstairs.
Arthur looked at himself in the mirror. It had been two days, and he was still uncomfortable in this body, but he wasn’t feeling the nauseating sensation of all his insides being rearranged anymore and he’d worked out the correct way to stand so that he didn’t feel like he was going to topple forwards. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. The denial of being afraid… the screaming… the inevitable clinging… and to hell if Alfred was going to sneak into his bed when he was looking like this.
When he finally made his way downstairs Alfred was moving about in the kitchen, shoving popcorn into the microwave that he’d got from god-knew-where and pouring two large glasses of soda. His eyes brightened when Arthur walked in, and he grinned, tapping two fingers off his forehead in a mock salute. Arthur snorted softly, then covered his nose, thinking that must have been a rather unladylike gesture but Alfred didn’t seem to have noticed, too busy leaning in front of the microwave and watching the plate inside turn. His pants were riding too low, Arthur noticed, before he caught himself and gave himself a mental slap for even thinking such a thing. Averting his eyes, he waited until he heard the sound of the microwave opening, and popcorn being shaken into a bowl.
“This is gonna be great,” Alfred enthused, shuffling through to the living room and dropping down on the couch heavily enough to send several bits of popcorn flying over the carpet. “This movie is supposed to be really creepy, but don’t worry, I’ll hold onto you so you don’t get scared.” The young blonde wrinkled his nose and shifted, scooting forwards across the carpet to put the DVD into the player. “God, this thing is ancient. I hope it doesn’t ruin my disk.”
Arthur found himself bristling slightly, struck with the urge to defend his DVD player which was, admittedly, several years old. He closed one eye and held it back, sitting down and picking up a piece of popcorn, chewing on it a little sullenly while he watched Alfred fiddle around in front of the television. He had it working soon enough and dropped back onto the couch, holding the bowl of popcorn in his lap.
He was shivering before the movie even started. Arthur knew exactly where this was going.
Of course, he was right. Within minutes of the opening sequence Alfred was sitting with wide eyes fixed on the screen, his fingers moving in and out of the bowl of popcorn but never actually picking anything up. Arthur wasn’t really impressed, and neither were the two fairies sitting on the arm of the chair beside him. They almost made him laugh with the way they poked their tongues out and raspberried at the television, but he pressed his lips together and kept his eyes forwards. Those security cameras were going to be trouble, he just knew it, and he found himself holding back a snort as he watched one of the characters burning sage to ward off evil spirits. He had no idea what had made her think that would work.
“I wonder if Arthur ever used one of those boards,” Alfred whispered beside him.
“Of course he has,” Arthur muttered back, feeling the American stiffen beside him and sensing the younger man’s large blue eyes on his face. He shifted, looking at Alfred, seeing the barely disguised fear in them and sighing impatiently. “What did you expect?”
“Uh.” He looked away, then someone screamed on the television and Alfred let out a shriek, clinging to Arthur’s arm with a vice-like grip. Moments later he had his arms around him and his face buried in long blonde hair, whimpering something that sounded like ‘scary… scary…’ as he trembled. Huffing, Arthur patted the top of his head and felt something in his heart twist at the noise the boy made in response. He really was still just such a child…
“I should have known this would happen,” the English nation said, and he felt Alfred’s eyelashes move against his neck as he blinked. “You always get like this with scary films.”
“I do no-… how do you know that?” Alfred seemed to have given up his usual pretence and was looking at his companion with his eyes slightly narrowed now. Arthur felt a cold flush run through him, from his head to his feet and goosebumps rose on his arms. His breath stuck in his throat and he leaned back, trying to get out of Alfred’s grip but the American wasn’t letting him go. “What has Arthur told you?” The relief at those words was almost tangible, and Arthur almost laughed, the sputtering chuckle that he caught in the back of his throat making the young man beside him frown.
“Arthur has told me a great deal about you,” he told the other, seeing that frown deepen. He knew that he was treading on shaky ground here, but Alfred was only half paying attention, his eyes continually darting back to the television as the movie continued to play.
“Wh… Why would he do that?” It was rather clear that Alfred was doing his best to concentrate and he wasn’t doing a very good job of it, and after a minute of stopping and starting in attempts to speak to the man, Arthur reached over him and grabbed the remote, pausing the film.
“Because I listen,” he said then. “I’ve told you before.”
“Oh, yeah…” The American said, his death-grip on the other relaxing now that the film had stopped. Arthur took a breath, and shifted.
“I’m going up to bed.”
“W-what?!” Alfred’s grip tightened again and Arthur let out a quiet wheezing sound, wincing. “You can’t go, the movie isn’t finished!” There was no changing his mind or consoling him, and he wouldn’t let Arthur go no matter how much he tried to say he was tired and wanted to go up to bed. Arthur sat and dealt with the man’s clinging and crying out in fear for another hour before the debacle of a film ended and he finally pulled away, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes. While he played out his usual routine of saying how scary the film was and how he wanted to watch it again, Arthur wormed out of his grip and stood up, brushing himself off. The prolonged contact with the man had left him tingling all over, and he ignored the shouts that followed him as he made his way upstairs and changed for bed. The day had been tiring, and his legs were already beginning to ache in a way that said he’d be sore in the morning, and he might have been irritated were it not for how much knowledge Alfred had displayed about his capital city. It had given him a great deal to think about, and perhaps the wish to be a little kinder to the boy when he was finally back to normal. He still didn’t know why the American nation wanted to see him so badly, but it was becoming rather clear that he wasn’t going to leave until ‘Arthur’ returned. All he needed to do was figure out some way to fix this problem without Alfred walking in on him.
He could not have been sleeping more than half an hour before the sound of his door opening roused him. Arthur kept his eyes closed, listening to the sound of light footsteps padding over the thick carpet, and he felt the faint dip as someone sat down on the edge of the bed. Even though the movement could only be small, he felt Alfred – for it could only be Alfred – fidgeting and probably debating with himself over what he should do. He was sitting on a bed beside a woman he barely knew, or rather, Arthur thought with a barely contained smile, a woman that he believed he barely knew. He ought to have seen this coming. Alfred was so predictable with how he reacted to things that frightened him, and the English nation wasn’t the least bit surprised when the ‘dip’ shifted and the covers were pulled back, the young man slipping into the bed beside him but keeping his distance.
Arthur settled again, but it wasn’t long before he was disturbed. He both felt and heard Alfred move, and he sighed, feeling the other’s eyes on him.
“Ariah?” Alfred’s voice was soft, whispering in the way that most people are inclined to whisper in a quiet space, whether they need to or not.
“… Mm,” said Arthur, listening to more shifting behind him.
“Is it okay if I sleep here?”
“… Sure.”
“Thanks.”
Alfred was quiet for a little while longer, and despite the way he was breathing making it clear that he wasn’t asleep, Arthur began to drift off again. When he woke it was still dark, and Alfred was still in bed beside him, one hand curled up on the pillow beside his face. Arthur sat up slowly and looked down at him, reaching out and coming within an inch of brushing the hair from his forehead before he quickly pulled back and slipped from the bed, giving one last look over his shoulder and closing the door behind him. He moved down the stairs, hopping carefully over the one step that creaked and was almost holding his breath when he reached the bottom. A look at the grandfather clock softly ticking away the seconds in the hallway told him that he had only been asleep a few hours, and with some luck, Alfred would still be asleep for some time yet.
He made his way into the kitchen and to the door that led down to the basement, unlocking it and making his way down the narrow stone steps. The door at the bottom swung open as he touched it, and snapped shut behind him as he walked through, and the tingle of magic in the place raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Letting out a sigh, he dropped into one of the several chairs scattered about, ignoring the slide of parchment as a pile of the stuff fell from the arm. He closed his eyes, listening to the soft chatter in the room that only he would be able to hear, and remained that way for several long moments. His fingers tightened on the arms of the chair and he pulled himself up, moving across to one of the several large bookcases lining the far wall.
It was then that he realised he had no idea where to start.
A fairy fluttered down to land on his shoulder, looking at him with turquoise eyes and folding back silver wings finer than gossamer. She peered at him as if she knew that something was different but couldn’t put her finger on what it was, and Arthur sighed.
“What am I supposed to do, Reedglow?” he muttered, seeing her shrug out of the corner of his eye. “Helpful as always,” he said, and she poked her tongue out at him, pulling on his hair as she flew away. Arthur rubbed a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, and felt a heated tightening in his throat. No, he wouldn’t let himself be stuck like this. He’d find some way to fix this, he just needed some time. He muttered something under his breath and picked a book at random, the volume heavy enough to require carrying with both arms, and he set it on the table, pulling it open. Each bound page was scrawled with messy handwriting – his own. Spells, incantations, potions… so many things that he no longer had the skill to attempt.
“What am I supposed to do?” he said again, looking at the writing as if he could speak to his past self. Though, he knew better than to attempt that… the last time he had tried, his ‘self’ of the 19th century hadn’t been too pleased with what he had seen in the modern world. That had been one hell of a mess to fix. He wouldn’t lose his head over this. He couldn’t afford to. If this was how he was supposed to spend the rest of his life then so be it, but he wasn’t going to let it get to him. Arthur shook his head, flicking his hair back over his shoulders. “I can deal with this,” he told himself. He turned his back on the room and made his way back up the stairs, locking the door behind him.
At least the scent of tea was settling. Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup clasped between his hands he closed his eyes and thought, letting his mind become aware of the shape his body was in. He’d been doing his best to ignore it so far, but now he took it all in. Some things were familiar. He could still feel the faint twinge of the brand on his hip and the way the scar across his chest pulled taut when he moved. A finger at his throat found the faint mark put there by Prussia so many years ago, and he could taste blood in his mouth as he thought of it. Few nations had pushed him to death with such determination. He dropped his head to the table and closed his eyes, feeling the press of his chest up against the edge of the wood.
It was there that Alfred found him. The American had woken alone in Arthur’s bed, as he had expected – the man had always been an early riser and no doubt his family was no different – and he had spent a little time stretching and enjoying being comfortable before he got up. He hadn’t expected to discover his host asleep at the kitchen table, her head propped up on her arms and a half finished cup of tea in front of her. The sight struck something deep in his chest and he crept closer, crouching, tilting his head to look at the other’s face. She was familiar to him in a lot of ways and he hadn’t been able to put his finger on just why so far, but now that she was still and he could look at her properly he was beginning to realise. He recognised the faint uptilt of the end of her nose and the faint scar in her left earlobe. The way her hair parted, a little crooked, was familiar to him as well. Alfred glanced towards the basement door and bit his lip, then moved over to the table and took the female by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake.
Arthur woke up with a soft grumble and looked up to see Alfred grinning down at him.
“Good morning,” he muttered, straightening slowly and easing the soreness out of his back and shoulders. A sigh was cast down towards the cold tea in front of him, and he got up, feeling the American’s eyes on him as he moved around the kitchen. A quiet scraping sound announced that Alfred had sat down, and Arthur turned the kettle on again.
“Hey, Ariah?” he said, and Arthur made a sound of acknowledgement. “You know, Arthur always says he doesn’t get along with his family.”
“That’s just his brothers,” Arthur said. Alfred made an ‘aah’ noise and rested his chin on his palm. With his back turned, Arthur didn’t see the smile curving his lips up.
“It must be nice for him to have you around to talk to.”
“Mm.”
“And he tells you everything?”
“A lot of things.”
“My birthday?”
“July 4th.”
“My favourite colour?”
“Blue.”
“My middle name?”
“Foster.”
Arthur stopped what he was doing, just short of putting the lid on his teapot as he heard Alfred’s chair scrape back. The quiet padding of his feet on the wooden flooring drew closer, and then two warm arms were wrapped around his waist and Alfred had his nose lightly pressed against his hair. He froze, and for a moment he was sure he felt his heart stop as Alfred spoke quietly.
“Hello, Arthur.”
------------
<| Chapter Three | Chapter Five |>
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 09:42 am (UTC)Oh Alfred, I knew you weren't that dense! YOU ARE SO SWEET!
The implication of all the small details just.. just makes me turn into much! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 09:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 12:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 12:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 12:33 pm (UTC)And Alfred finally finds out!!!
From the looks of things, Arthur seems like he's going to stay a woman. Am I reading the foreboding right? I like fem!England :) she's not very much different from canon. fem!America on the other hand.
One more chapter left! I can't wait! I love reading Alfred's unexpectedly attentive and kind side in this fic :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 12:40 pm (UTC)I'm not terribly fond of fem!Anything in Hetalia, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone xD
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 12:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 01:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 02:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 02:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 04:22 pm (UTC)How can I put my reaction into mere words? Even the sparkles can't do this justice.
I said it before and I'll say it again, I need an update like the very air we breathe.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-27 04:26 pm (UTC)It's updated! XD
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 12:04 am (UTC)He knoooows/figure it out!
(and hey now, I see that the next chapter has already been post, awesome. :D *runs off*)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 08:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 01:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-28 08:16 am (UTC)