hellzabeth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellzabeth) wrote2010-04-23 11:01 am
hellzabeth) wrote2010-04-23 11:01 am
Entry tags:
[Fanfic] England's Unusual Day
Title: England's Unusual Day
Characters: England and everyone related to himso like half the world.
Rating: G
Warnings: Look! Look, Pidge tried to write fluff!
Summary: England wakes up to an unexpectedly unusual day.
The day dawned sunny and warm. This was the first unusual point of England's day.
He got up, swung his legs out of bed and only then looked at the clock. 8:30 blinked at him, and he nearly swore. He had to make himself some food before going to work! And have a shower, and a shave and-!
"Don't worry 'bout breakfast, Artie!" Scotland called from downstairs, surprisingly up first. "I'm doin' a fry up!"
That was the second unusual point of England's day.
Arthur relaxed a little, slowing his walk to the shower. However, in the hallway, he encountered Northern Ireland. A stare-out commenced. If you listened hard, you could hear dramatic Latin chanting in the background, or maybe that was the Fae taking the piss. North always used the shower first, and inevitably would sing, use all the hot water, and upend some bottle of shampoo and make a huge mess. England spent as long as possible in the shower, if only for peace and quiet, and refused to let anyone in. The two often clashed over who got in first.
"After you, Arthur." Éibhear bowed, slightly mockingly but still in perfect style, gesturing to the bathroom. Slightly wary that some sort of trap had been laid, England kept his eyes on his younger sibling as he backed into the room, before closing the door and running an inspection.
Nothing. The bathroom was fine, untouched. "What on earth..." And that was the third unusual point of England's day. Good gracious, he'd only been up ten minutes.
One (uninterrupted) shower and a (surprisingly not oily-as-a-toad) quick breakfast later, and England was on the way out the door and to his office where there would no doubt be another argument with Gordon about the elections that he really didn't want to deal with right now, and Nick and David would barge in and he would have to excuse himself because only the Prime Minister was allowed to know exactly who he was-
"Oh, Arthur!" Wales called as England made to pick up his briefcase. "Sorry, I'm behind schedule, but Brown called yesterday and said you didn't need to come in today. This election business must be making you tired, right?"
Bewildered, England only managed a vague "well, yes" before he was ushered into the front room where Blackadder was playing on the television. It was the second season, the one with Bess in it, and with no further questions he settled down to watch the genius that is known as Rowan Atkinson.
At some point Scotland dropped a cup of tea into his hands and cleared off, leaving England to watch the program with the sun slowly moving across the sky through the high windows. This was nice. In fact, it was very considerate of Gordon to give him a day off when all this election business was coming to a head. It was such an awful headache to have your people arguing amongst themselves, and there was no way to drive around the south without seeing giant billboards for the Conservatives (some of which had been rather creatively vandalised) or banners for Labor, or horrific slur adverts directed at either side.
It was peaceful. That was the fourth unusual point of England's day.
---
He was nearly falling asleep in the warmth of the sun when a knock on the door roused him awake.
"I'll get it!" cheered Éibhear like a child, running down the stairs and, from the sounds of it, jumping the last three steps. The door opened and there was a shout of "Canada!" and after the initial moment of "who?" England smiled and stood to greet him.
"Matthew, my dear boy, what are you doing here?" he asked, though it was nice to see one of his older colonies. The Canadian beamed at him as Éibhear ran back up the stairs, to his xbox no doubt.
"I've just come over to help with lunch!" he smiled, making his own way to the kitchen and starting to find the pots and pans. An easy enough task; England hadn't moved from his country house in nearly two hundred years. "And to chat too!" he added, peering into the fridge. "Umm, any requests? There's a lot of different meats in here..."
Still a bit blown sideways by all the pleasantness that seemed to be happening today, England thought carefully. "If we're all eating together, I could help you with doing a roast?" So it was a Friday and not a Sunday, what did he care.
Instantly Canada raised his hands like England had pointed a knife at him. "No no! No, that's fine, I'll do it myself and get Wales to help if I need it..."
Ah, that was a little more like normal. Reassured that the world had not been completely turned upside-down while he slept, England sat on one of the chairs at the breakfast table, watching Canada cook and chatting about inane things.
The door went again just as Canada took out the roast potatos. "I'll get it, I'll get it!" crowed North excitedly, jumping four stairs this time. Opening it rendered a rather different reaction. "Oh, it's you."
"Nice t' see you too." Oh god, Ireland was here. England knew the peace couldn't last. "Where is he?"
"Kitchen." Éibhear replied sulkily. Ireland peered around the door.
"Heya Artie! Lookin' good." she greeted, and then vanished. Without an insult. No 'runt' or 'leanbh' or 'you conquering bastard'. That was most definitely the fifth unusual point of England's day.
Lunch rolled around, and England prepared himself for the horrors of having to eat together with his family, and the fights that would no doubt begin. Northern Ireland and his sister were sat next to each other, which would inevitably mean that someone was going to do something irresponsible with a fork. Wales and Canada sat next to each other, making the other side of the table feel oddly empty with their combined invisibility fields, and Scotland sat at the opposite end from England, which no doubt meant that he would be trying to see how far he could launch his peas with his spoon so they would his England on the head.
Instead, the Ireland siblings maintained civil conversation, pointedly ignoring each other when it began to escalate, Scotland ate all his peas instead of flinging them at people he found irritating, and Canada was the one telling an extremely complicated anecdote that involved a moose and three hundred litres of maple syrup that had been spilled from a truck traveling to Ontario.
That could probably account for the sixth, seventh and eighth unusual points in England's day.
After lunch, England was about ready to start checking his spell books to see if he'd entered some kind of parallel world or consult the Fae and see if they had dragged him through the looking glass while he slept, when the doorbell went again.
"Urrgh." groaned an overstuffed Northern Ireland. "Can't. Daaaaaaar..."
"Alright, I'm going." Wales rolled his eyes, leaving the table to answer the door. As soon as it opened, England smelled spice and he straightened. "Oh, Maya, you're early."
"Or late," came that familiar voice, soft and friendly. "It seems you've just finished lunch without me."
England had got to his feet at some point without knowing it, and when India finally entered the dining room, he had to stop himself from stepping forward too quickly.
"Maya, I'm... I mean, this is a surprise." he blinked. She was definitely here. He wasn't dreaming was he. He hadn't gone back in time. She wasn't going to sit at his table with him and smile quietly at him and rage away from his control when he least expected it-
"Am I not allowed to just pop over for a visit?" she asked, smiling in a way that would confuse the Mona Lisa.
"Uh no, I mean yes, I mean..." England sighed. In the background he could practically see the identical grins on his family's faces. "... do you want some cha?"
"Oh, yes please."
---
The two of them ended up taking a walk through the woods. The didn't talk of the past (that would be cruel to India) or politics (that would be cruel to England) or work (which would be cruel to both of them), but rather of anything that floated into their minds next.
The fae glittered in the sunshine and hovered in their interested, curious way around India, perplexed and fascinated by her exotic smell and bright clothing. England had to give them a stern glare when they tried to lead her into a faerie ring and steal her away.
"Arthur," India interrupted his silent scolding of a certain rebellious pixie. "could you tell me something?"
Thick brows raised curiously. "Hm? What?"
"Who is St George?"
Well that came right out of the left field. It took a gnome kicking him lightly in the shin to remember that he needed to talk. "Oh, he's my patron saint." England explained. "Roman bloke, slayed the last dragon on my land, late 300s. AD." The fae paused to give him a look. Oh for goodness sake. "Look you lot, it's hard work balancing you and the Christian faith so don't be fussy over it or I'm warding you out of the house again." he hissed at them. India giggled at him.
"Oh, are they angry he slayed the dragon?"
"What? Oh no, dragons are not particularly pleasant creatures." England amended. "In fact I was quite pleased to have it gone. Much less peasants eaten that way, you know." The dark haired Nation carried on giggling, and England folded his arms. "Alright, I'll bite, what's going on?"
The innocence on India's face would have fooled less knowledgeable men. "Why should anything be going on?" Ah, she'd even sharpened her English accent like she did when she wanted Arthur to do as she wanted. But it wouldn't work this time.
"Today has gone entirely too well. Either I am not awake, the world has gone completely mad or you," he pointed at her, "you," then the fae, "and everyone else are up to something."
"I'm not up to anything, and I'm sure your little friends aren't either. At least, not right now."
For some reason, England didn't believe her.
A slightly chilly wind blew past, and India shivered, unused to the cold. Just as England made to take his jacked off and give it to her, she pointed excitedly. "Ah, there!"
England followed her point. "... a pub? What's so special about- gah!"
So, now he was being dragged along by his wrist to the door of his local pub by India, who had no less of an iron grip now than she did two hundred years ago. He would have added it to his list of unusual points in his day, but by now that list was getting rather full and comprehensive, so he decided best not to.
"It's only five o'clock, Maya, they're not going to be open!" England tried to argue, but was ignored. Resigning himself to his fate, he let Maya open the door and-
"SURPRISE!!"
... what the bloody hell?
The pub was covered with flags. His flags, the red cross on white. People were throwing red and white streamers at him and- oof, now a small child was hugging his legs.
"Wha-" he stammered, completely confused.
America- even bloody America was here?- walked out of the crowd that England was steadily coming to realise was the majority of the commonwealth and that the small child hugging his legs was Tanzania, now joined by Fiji. "Iggy~!" he grinned. "Y'know, I think you're the only Nation in the world that anyone can throw a surprise party for."
Australia held up a flag in front of England's bewildered expression. "You do remember what today is, right? Clue's in the flag."
The flag? What did the cross of St George have to do with-
Oh.
Oh.
"I think they call this a eureka moment." commented Hong Kong dryly as England's eyes widened.
America laughed, clear and loud. "Trust you to forget your own birthday old man! Hahaha!"
The world was blurring slightly, and England's eyes felt hot. "All of you did this?" god, he sounded like a weepy woman.
"Weeell, it was Scotland's idea- ow!" Éibhear began, but was cut off when James stomped hard on his foot. "I mean, yeah, we all thought, what with stuff being kind of crap this year, we could at least do this for you."
New Zealand folded her arms. "And you'd better appreciate it because there were no planes coming in and out until yesterday so we had to pull strings!"
"I don't know what to say..." because really, this kind of thing didn't happen to him all that often. Or at all. Most of his people didn't even know he had a national day. Patriotism wasn't in style these days. A cupcake with a single candle appeared within his sight.
"Most people opt for 'thank you'." smirked Ireland.
"Make a wish, Iggy, make a wish!"
"Stupid, he can't say it out loud."
"Yeah but I wanna watch him blow out the candle so we can get the bigger cake-"
"Do you ever not think about food?"
"I do so!"
England quietly wiped the tears from his eyes while everyone was distracted by the argument. India silently handed him a tissue.
"... thank you."
And that was the one hundred and fiftieth unusual point of England's day.
Notes:
- St George's day isn't actually "celebrated" in England. We don't have fireworks, or parties, or go on drinking binges. Actually, most of the time it just passes and nobody notices. Most people in England aren't aware it exists, much less what date it's on. I'm only aware of it because of Hetalia, but I'm much gladder for it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ENGLAND!
- Weirdly enough though, this year there's nice weather, people are putting out flags and a fair's come to town. Personally I think it's the government trying to get us patriotic in time for the Olympics but hahaha good luck with that, we haven't been patriots since WW2.
Characters: England and everyone related to him
Rating: G
Warnings: Look! Look, Pidge tried to write fluff!
Summary: England wakes up to an unexpectedly unusual day.
The day dawned sunny and warm. This was the first unusual point of England's day.
He got up, swung his legs out of bed and only then looked at the clock. 8:30 blinked at him, and he nearly swore. He had to make himself some food before going to work! And have a shower, and a shave and-!
"Don't worry 'bout breakfast, Artie!" Scotland called from downstairs, surprisingly up first. "I'm doin' a fry up!"
That was the second unusual point of England's day.
Arthur relaxed a little, slowing his walk to the shower. However, in the hallway, he encountered Northern Ireland. A stare-out commenced. If you listened hard, you could hear dramatic Latin chanting in the background, or maybe that was the Fae taking the piss. North always used the shower first, and inevitably would sing, use all the hot water, and upend some bottle of shampoo and make a huge mess. England spent as long as possible in the shower, if only for peace and quiet, and refused to let anyone in. The two often clashed over who got in first.
"After you, Arthur." Éibhear bowed, slightly mockingly but still in perfect style, gesturing to the bathroom. Slightly wary that some sort of trap had been laid, England kept his eyes on his younger sibling as he backed into the room, before closing the door and running an inspection.
Nothing. The bathroom was fine, untouched. "What on earth..." And that was the third unusual point of England's day. Good gracious, he'd only been up ten minutes.
One (uninterrupted) shower and a (surprisingly not oily-as-a-toad) quick breakfast later, and England was on the way out the door and to his office where there would no doubt be another argument with Gordon about the elections that he really didn't want to deal with right now, and Nick and David would barge in and he would have to excuse himself because only the Prime Minister was allowed to know exactly who he was-
"Oh, Arthur!" Wales called as England made to pick up his briefcase. "Sorry, I'm behind schedule, but Brown called yesterday and said you didn't need to come in today. This election business must be making you tired, right?"
Bewildered, England only managed a vague "well, yes" before he was ushered into the front room where Blackadder was playing on the television. It was the second season, the one with Bess in it, and with no further questions he settled down to watch the genius that is known as Rowan Atkinson.
At some point Scotland dropped a cup of tea into his hands and cleared off, leaving England to watch the program with the sun slowly moving across the sky through the high windows. This was nice. In fact, it was very considerate of Gordon to give him a day off when all this election business was coming to a head. It was such an awful headache to have your people arguing amongst themselves, and there was no way to drive around the south without seeing giant billboards for the Conservatives (some of which had been rather creatively vandalised) or banners for Labor, or horrific slur adverts directed at either side.
It was peaceful. That was the fourth unusual point of England's day.
---
He was nearly falling asleep in the warmth of the sun when a knock on the door roused him awake.
"I'll get it!" cheered Éibhear like a child, running down the stairs and, from the sounds of it, jumping the last three steps. The door opened and there was a shout of "Canada!" and after the initial moment of "who?" England smiled and stood to greet him.
"Matthew, my dear boy, what are you doing here?" he asked, though it was nice to see one of his older colonies. The Canadian beamed at him as Éibhear ran back up the stairs, to his xbox no doubt.
"I've just come over to help with lunch!" he smiled, making his own way to the kitchen and starting to find the pots and pans. An easy enough task; England hadn't moved from his country house in nearly two hundred years. "And to chat too!" he added, peering into the fridge. "Umm, any requests? There's a lot of different meats in here..."
Still a bit blown sideways by all the pleasantness that seemed to be happening today, England thought carefully. "If we're all eating together, I could help you with doing a roast?" So it was a Friday and not a Sunday, what did he care.
Instantly Canada raised his hands like England had pointed a knife at him. "No no! No, that's fine, I'll do it myself and get Wales to help if I need it..."
Ah, that was a little more like normal. Reassured that the world had not been completely turned upside-down while he slept, England sat on one of the chairs at the breakfast table, watching Canada cook and chatting about inane things.
The door went again just as Canada took out the roast potatos. "I'll get it, I'll get it!" crowed North excitedly, jumping four stairs this time. Opening it rendered a rather different reaction. "Oh, it's you."
"Nice t' see you too." Oh god, Ireland was here. England knew the peace couldn't last. "Where is he?"
"Kitchen." Éibhear replied sulkily. Ireland peered around the door.
"Heya Artie! Lookin' good." she greeted, and then vanished. Without an insult. No 'runt' or 'leanbh' or 'you conquering bastard'. That was most definitely the fifth unusual point of England's day.
Lunch rolled around, and England prepared himself for the horrors of having to eat together with his family, and the fights that would no doubt begin. Northern Ireland and his sister were sat next to each other, which would inevitably mean that someone was going to do something irresponsible with a fork. Wales and Canada sat next to each other, making the other side of the table feel oddly empty with their combined invisibility fields, and Scotland sat at the opposite end from England, which no doubt meant that he would be trying to see how far he could launch his peas with his spoon so they would his England on the head.
Instead, the Ireland siblings maintained civil conversation, pointedly ignoring each other when it began to escalate, Scotland ate all his peas instead of flinging them at people he found irritating, and Canada was the one telling an extremely complicated anecdote that involved a moose and three hundred litres of maple syrup that had been spilled from a truck traveling to Ontario.
That could probably account for the sixth, seventh and eighth unusual points in England's day.
After lunch, England was about ready to start checking his spell books to see if he'd entered some kind of parallel world or consult the Fae and see if they had dragged him through the looking glass while he slept, when the doorbell went again.
"Urrgh." groaned an overstuffed Northern Ireland. "Can't. Daaaaaaar..."
"Alright, I'm going." Wales rolled his eyes, leaving the table to answer the door. As soon as it opened, England smelled spice and he straightened. "Oh, Maya, you're early."
"Or late," came that familiar voice, soft and friendly. "It seems you've just finished lunch without me."
England had got to his feet at some point without knowing it, and when India finally entered the dining room, he had to stop himself from stepping forward too quickly.
"Maya, I'm... I mean, this is a surprise." he blinked. She was definitely here. He wasn't dreaming was he. He hadn't gone back in time. She wasn't going to sit at his table with him and smile quietly at him and rage away from his control when he least expected it-
"Am I not allowed to just pop over for a visit?" she asked, smiling in a way that would confuse the Mona Lisa.
"Uh no, I mean yes, I mean..." England sighed. In the background he could practically see the identical grins on his family's faces. "... do you want some cha?"
"Oh, yes please."
---
The two of them ended up taking a walk through the woods. The didn't talk of the past (that would be cruel to India) or politics (that would be cruel to England) or work (which would be cruel to both of them), but rather of anything that floated into their minds next.
The fae glittered in the sunshine and hovered in their interested, curious way around India, perplexed and fascinated by her exotic smell and bright clothing. England had to give them a stern glare when they tried to lead her into a faerie ring and steal her away.
"Arthur," India interrupted his silent scolding of a certain rebellious pixie. "could you tell me something?"
Thick brows raised curiously. "Hm? What?"
"Who is St George?"
Well that came right out of the left field. It took a gnome kicking him lightly in the shin to remember that he needed to talk. "Oh, he's my patron saint." England explained. "Roman bloke, slayed the last dragon on my land, late 300s. AD." The fae paused to give him a look. Oh for goodness sake. "Look you lot, it's hard work balancing you and the Christian faith so don't be fussy over it or I'm warding you out of the house again." he hissed at them. India giggled at him.
"Oh, are they angry he slayed the dragon?"
"What? Oh no, dragons are not particularly pleasant creatures." England amended. "In fact I was quite pleased to have it gone. Much less peasants eaten that way, you know." The dark haired Nation carried on giggling, and England folded his arms. "Alright, I'll bite, what's going on?"
The innocence on India's face would have fooled less knowledgeable men. "Why should anything be going on?" Ah, she'd even sharpened her English accent like she did when she wanted Arthur to do as she wanted. But it wouldn't work this time.
"Today has gone entirely too well. Either I am not awake, the world has gone completely mad or you," he pointed at her, "you," then the fae, "and everyone else are up to something."
"I'm not up to anything, and I'm sure your little friends aren't either. At least, not right now."
For some reason, England didn't believe her.
A slightly chilly wind blew past, and India shivered, unused to the cold. Just as England made to take his jacked off and give it to her, she pointed excitedly. "Ah, there!"
England followed her point. "... a pub? What's so special about- gah!"
So, now he was being dragged along by his wrist to the door of his local pub by India, who had no less of an iron grip now than she did two hundred years ago. He would have added it to his list of unusual points in his day, but by now that list was getting rather full and comprehensive, so he decided best not to.
"It's only five o'clock, Maya, they're not going to be open!" England tried to argue, but was ignored. Resigning himself to his fate, he let Maya open the door and-
"SURPRISE!!"
... what the bloody hell?
The pub was covered with flags. His flags, the red cross on white. People were throwing red and white streamers at him and- oof, now a small child was hugging his legs.
"Wha-" he stammered, completely confused.
America- even bloody America was here?- walked out of the crowd that England was steadily coming to realise was the majority of the commonwealth and that the small child hugging his legs was Tanzania, now joined by Fiji. "Iggy~!" he grinned. "Y'know, I think you're the only Nation in the world that anyone can throw a surprise party for."
Australia held up a flag in front of England's bewildered expression. "You do remember what today is, right? Clue's in the flag."
The flag? What did the cross of St George have to do with-
Oh.
Oh.
"I think they call this a eureka moment." commented Hong Kong dryly as England's eyes widened.
America laughed, clear and loud. "Trust you to forget your own birthday old man! Hahaha!"
The world was blurring slightly, and England's eyes felt hot. "All of you did this?" god, he sounded like a weepy woman.
"Weeell, it was Scotland's idea- ow!" Éibhear began, but was cut off when James stomped hard on his foot. "I mean, yeah, we all thought, what with stuff being kind of crap this year, we could at least do this for you."
New Zealand folded her arms. "And you'd better appreciate it because there were no planes coming in and out until yesterday so we had to pull strings!"
"I don't know what to say..." because really, this kind of thing didn't happen to him all that often. Or at all. Most of his people didn't even know he had a national day. Patriotism wasn't in style these days. A cupcake with a single candle appeared within his sight.
"Most people opt for 'thank you'." smirked Ireland.
"Make a wish, Iggy, make a wish!"
"Stupid, he can't say it out loud."
"Yeah but I wanna watch him blow out the candle so we can get the bigger cake-"
"Do you ever not think about food?"
"I do so!"
England quietly wiped the tears from his eyes while everyone was distracted by the argument. India silently handed him a tissue.
"... thank you."
And that was the one hundred and fiftieth unusual point of England's day.
Notes:
- St George's day isn't actually "celebrated" in England. We don't have fireworks, or parties, or go on drinking binges. Actually, most of the time it just passes and nobody notices. Most people in England aren't aware it exists, much less what date it's on. I'm only aware of it because of Hetalia, but I'm much gladder for it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ENGLAND!
- Weirdly enough though, this year there's nice weather, people are putting out flags and a fair's come to town. Personally I think it's the government trying to get us patriotic in time for the Olympics but hahaha good luck with that, we haven't been patriots since WW2.