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blood_wingedTitle: Matchmaking
Genre: General/Romance
Word Count: 1030
Rating/Warnings: U, none.
Summary: In which fairies do not understand human romance.
“I don’t believe you three! Don’t you have any respect for my privacy?” Arthur set his hands on his hips and looked down at the three fairies stood on the table in front of him, wearing expressions that varied between defiance and embarrassment. He seemed rather at a loss, as one might be when scolding three creatures who had little understanding of what they had done and just why it was so wrong. “Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?”
It had begun a month ago, when Arthur had received a telephone call from America which had cut off before he could answer it. Calling back had ended in an argument as Alfred denied having made the call, and Arthur had been in a sour mood for the rest of the day without completely understanding why. When it had happened again, it had only become more irritating and when Alfred called him yelling about him being a hypocrite when he hadn’t been near his phone in hours he’d turned the infernal contraption off and thrown it into one of the desk drawers in his study. He had thought nothing of it after that, believing it to just be yet another one of Alfred’s infuriating pranks, and had made a mental note to bring it up at the next G8 meeting. It was petty, but he wasn’t going to stand for… whatever Alfred was trying to do.
Though, the strange occurrences, peculiar even by Arthur’s standards, hadn’t stopped there. A tiny wooden soldier, the paint chipped and faded with age, had turned up in the middle of the English nation’s kitchen table and he had spent an entire half an hour staring at it before he had summoned the nerve to approach it and move it to somewhere that he wouldn’t have to look at it. After that, he had done his best to forget about the dratted thing but it had played on his mind like some kind of restless spirit dragged out of limbo and he had been so out of sorts that people at work who barely saw him had marked a change in his behaviour.
Alfred, too, had been acting strangely. The younger man had begun to avoid his calls, to get other people to deal with Arthur instead of speaking with him directly and it reminded him almost painfully of how things had been before the war that had made things so difficult for them to begin with. It wasn’t something that he was willing to deal with, not something that he wanted to deal with but it was harder than he thought it was going to be to ignore. When it had begun to affect his mind to the point that he was dreaming about the Battle of Yorktown and the rather shameful things he’d done after the 1783 Treaty of Paris was signed, he hadn’t even wanted to look the man in the face.
When he had stormed into the house after a G8 meeting with an expression like thunder and cursing Alfred with every name under the sun, he had been timidly approached by a fairy who had bashfully told him that all of it had been their doing, that they had been worried about how lonely he seemed and he had come home ranting about ‘Alfred Jones’ so many times that they had thought him the best candidate for someone to keep Arthur company. He might have laughed at that, had he not been suspended somewhere in the middle of anger and disbelief along with a sensation of being incredibly touched that his small companions thought so much of him that they worried that he was lonely.
“Look, I’m not going to tell you that what you did was right, but I know that you were only thinking of me.” Arthur knelt in front of the table and rested his arms on it, propping up his chin and chuckling as the three tiny winged creatures flooded forwards to hug his face. “And I may be able to salvage things yet.” When the fairies looked at him and jingled their tiny voices in curiosity he only smiled and tapped the side of his nose, glancing away as the doorbell rang and getting to his feet. “Keep yourselves out of sight,” he said, moving away.
If nothing else, the misguided actions of his companions had caused one thing to happen, though perhaps not in the way that they had intended. Annoyance had caused Alfred to be on Arthur’s mind almost constantly, in a way that he had been trying to avoid for many years, and it had brought many feelings that he had been trying to avoid back up to the surface. It had taken a little persuasion, but he had convinced a rather skeptical Alfred (who likely only thought that the man wanted to shout at him a bit more) to come over to his house so that he could explain why he had been acting so strangely.
While Arthur moved to open the door, the three fairies hid themselves in a bouquet of flowers standing on the windowsill in the living room. From behind the petals they watched as the taller blonde was shown into the room and asked to sit down, and then they began to talk. It was difficult for them to understand what the humans said, their speech far too slow and simple, but they could easily read the looks on their faces. Arthur looked grave, and Alfred seemed suspicious, but as the older man continued to talk that suspicion slowly melted into disbelief, then something that none of them could place. Arthur was smiling, and when he reached out to touch the American nation’s hand Alfred twitched but he didn’t pull away, and after a moment he closed his other hand over both of theirs. They didn’t kiss, they didn’t move closer, but they didn’t shout or argue, they simply looked at each other, and the fairies grinned as they slid down inside a tulip and sat down, resting their backs against the petals.
They hadn’t even needed to use the arrow they’d stolen from Cupid.
Genre: General/Romance
Word Count: 1030
Rating/Warnings: U, none.
Summary: In which fairies do not understand human romance.
*****
“I don’t believe you three! Don’t you have any respect for my privacy?” Arthur set his hands on his hips and looked down at the three fairies stood on the table in front of him, wearing expressions that varied between defiance and embarrassment. He seemed rather at a loss, as one might be when scolding three creatures who had little understanding of what they had done and just why it was so wrong. “Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?”
It had begun a month ago, when Arthur had received a telephone call from America which had cut off before he could answer it. Calling back had ended in an argument as Alfred denied having made the call, and Arthur had been in a sour mood for the rest of the day without completely understanding why. When it had happened again, it had only become more irritating and when Alfred called him yelling about him being a hypocrite when he hadn’t been near his phone in hours he’d turned the infernal contraption off and thrown it into one of the desk drawers in his study. He had thought nothing of it after that, believing it to just be yet another one of Alfred’s infuriating pranks, and had made a mental note to bring it up at the next G8 meeting. It was petty, but he wasn’t going to stand for… whatever Alfred was trying to do.
Though, the strange occurrences, peculiar even by Arthur’s standards, hadn’t stopped there. A tiny wooden soldier, the paint chipped and faded with age, had turned up in the middle of the English nation’s kitchen table and he had spent an entire half an hour staring at it before he had summoned the nerve to approach it and move it to somewhere that he wouldn’t have to look at it. After that, he had done his best to forget about the dratted thing but it had played on his mind like some kind of restless spirit dragged out of limbo and he had been so out of sorts that people at work who barely saw him had marked a change in his behaviour.
Alfred, too, had been acting strangely. The younger man had begun to avoid his calls, to get other people to deal with Arthur instead of speaking with him directly and it reminded him almost painfully of how things had been before the war that had made things so difficult for them to begin with. It wasn’t something that he was willing to deal with, not something that he wanted to deal with but it was harder than he thought it was going to be to ignore. When it had begun to affect his mind to the point that he was dreaming about the Battle of Yorktown and the rather shameful things he’d done after the 1783 Treaty of Paris was signed, he hadn’t even wanted to look the man in the face.
When he had stormed into the house after a G8 meeting with an expression like thunder and cursing Alfred with every name under the sun, he had been timidly approached by a fairy who had bashfully told him that all of it had been their doing, that they had been worried about how lonely he seemed and he had come home ranting about ‘Alfred Jones’ so many times that they had thought him the best candidate for someone to keep Arthur company. He might have laughed at that, had he not been suspended somewhere in the middle of anger and disbelief along with a sensation of being incredibly touched that his small companions thought so much of him that they worried that he was lonely.
“Look, I’m not going to tell you that what you did was right, but I know that you were only thinking of me.” Arthur knelt in front of the table and rested his arms on it, propping up his chin and chuckling as the three tiny winged creatures flooded forwards to hug his face. “And I may be able to salvage things yet.” When the fairies looked at him and jingled their tiny voices in curiosity he only smiled and tapped the side of his nose, glancing away as the doorbell rang and getting to his feet. “Keep yourselves out of sight,” he said, moving away.
If nothing else, the misguided actions of his companions had caused one thing to happen, though perhaps not in the way that they had intended. Annoyance had caused Alfred to be on Arthur’s mind almost constantly, in a way that he had been trying to avoid for many years, and it had brought many feelings that he had been trying to avoid back up to the surface. It had taken a little persuasion, but he had convinced a rather skeptical Alfred (who likely only thought that the man wanted to shout at him a bit more) to come over to his house so that he could explain why he had been acting so strangely.
While Arthur moved to open the door, the three fairies hid themselves in a bouquet of flowers standing on the windowsill in the living room. From behind the petals they watched as the taller blonde was shown into the room and asked to sit down, and then they began to talk. It was difficult for them to understand what the humans said, their speech far too slow and simple, but they could easily read the looks on their faces. Arthur looked grave, and Alfred seemed suspicious, but as the older man continued to talk that suspicion slowly melted into disbelief, then something that none of them could place. Arthur was smiling, and when he reached out to touch the American nation’s hand Alfred twitched but he didn’t pull away, and after a moment he closed his other hand over both of theirs. They didn’t kiss, they didn’t move closer, but they didn’t shout or argue, they simply looked at each other, and the fairies grinned as they slid down inside a tulip and sat down, resting their backs against the petals.
They hadn’t even needed to use the arrow they’d stolen from Cupid.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-21 06:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-21 01:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-21 05:42 pm (UTC)But I'm terribly curious as to how England explained all the fairy business. Maybe not at all? 'Oh, no, it was all myself and my insecurities. No fairies! Who said anything about magic?! WHAT ARE YOU IMPLYING ABOUT ME!?'
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 09:55 pm (UTC)Ahaha he probably didn't even go there xD
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-21 07:50 pm (UTC)And possible awkward talk is coming!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 09:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-21 11:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 09:56 pm (UTC)They're so naughty.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 06:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 09:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 07:19 pm (UTC)The ending was so sweet~! (I may be a bit late on commenting. Life is a drag sometimes.)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-07-23 09:58 pm (UTC)And it's okay >o<;