Hetalia: You Were So Small I-You Were So Small-Hetalia: You Were So Small I in Short Stories More Like This
"You...used to be...so great, once..."
Late December in port town of Yorktown, Virginia was damp and cold. Further inland, light patches of frost littered the ground as evidence of a blessedly mild winter, but here in the settled area the cobblestone streets were only slushed with the after effects of a less than noticeable snow. Buildings and windows were dusted with white flakes, soft flurries fell lazily in the cool breezeless eve, and other than the silver moon only a few lamp burning street lights illuminated the way down the midnight path.
Everything was so quiet and deserted...it hadn't been that way just a few months ago.
The soft tapping of bo
APH: Home of My Smile~Home of my Smile~APH: Home of My Smile in Short Stories More Like This
The harbor was in an absolute flurry of motion. Port hands raced from their stations to the docks as the lines were cast over the side of the mighty anchoring frigate, the ship nearly invisible beneath the veil of black smoke billowing from the gaping wounds along her haul. The only language being spoken was frantic sailor, at nothing less than a volume of screaming. The wooden skin of the vessel smoldered down to her creaking bones, as men inside and outside of her body threw water on the fires, trying desperately to control what remained of a hard-fought battle.
It was the aftermath of and encounter with the outnumbering French fleet. The result: at least the British still had a ship to sail.
The smell of her burning carcass wafted through the port and obscured the sky as flames continued to consume her. But she, like her captain, was too stubborn to sink, rathering to suffer the fire than the depths.
The red-clad sea captain had refused any kind of treatmen
Hetalia: You Were So Small II -You Were So Small: Part IIHetalia: You Were So Small II in Short Stories More Like This
"So, will you turn on me now out of spite? Attack me as I am rebuilding and learning how to protect myself and filling in the gaps you leave behind?"
Arthur's expression changed only to allow a slight up-tilt of the corner of his lips, forming a tight, cruel smile. "I won't need to do a thing to jeopardize the building of your precious kingdom. You'll accomplish self-destruction without aid from me," He added with a dark chuckle, "Assuming France and Spain decide they're not willing to fight for more than the bargained price of their aid, you'll have a few years of so called freedom at best."
Alfred's eyes narrowed and his muscles te
APH The Debt Repaid~The Debt Repaid~APH The Debt Repaid in Short Stories More Like This
He remembered how soft Alfred's hair had been when he'd been a boy. Each strand was so thin and fine, like delicate golden thread that never surrendered an opportunity to catch a breeze and defy gravity. Neither his rebellious cowlick nor his youthful sheen had waned with age still; it was so different running his hand through it now.
His fingers caught on the blood that matted his golden hair and brushed against the drying wounds that covered the lad's face and scalp. The young man hadn't stirred once since falling unconscious at his feet amidst the burning of his capital, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Now, the very man who had authorized the immolation of America's heart held his body close to his own and continued to gently stroke the young man's hair. When Alfred had been a child this would have calmed him, made him feel safe and help him drift off to sleep. The nightmares would never plague him while in his arms; perhaps the former caregiver
APH: "Forgive Me, One Day" Fic-"Forgive me, One Day"-APH: "Forgive Me, One Day" Fic in Short Stories More Like This
An earthen white cloud; a weightless formation of organic fibers plucked from the razored bolls of the plants that bore them. White gold no longer meant the wool of sheep, but this small, soft breath in his hand. This unspun, imperfect ball that would someday become part of the finest clothes made by human hands; a blanket fit for the king's priest, or a robe for his majesty himself.
To think, betrayal had been bought with the potential in this insignificant uncut diamond.
"I didn't authorize this," he said in a low tone. "And you knew I wouldn't."
The man standing behind him looked neither ashamed nor concerned. With his hands clasped behind his back, he watched as the departed ship continued to vanish on the horizon. It was a crown jewel of the sea, a fine warship made by British hands and commissioned with Confederate white gold.
"She's not the first," the man replied.
"No but I will ensure she is the last."
Silence hung in the air between them
APH: "Let the Bells Never Toll for You"APH: "Let the Bells Never Toll for You" in Short Stories More Like This
~Let the Bells Never Toll for You~
The smell of burning wood and metal should have been comforting this time of year, but right now it only served as a reminder that the city was still burning. Smoke and debris particles filled the air, giving it the texture of sandpaper as it mixed with the sharp bite of winter and entered the lungs. The sounds of people filling the market streets on quests for last minute gifts were replaced by those of aid workers rushing to repair damage left in the wake of the last air raid, and military officials combing the streets to maintain order and security. No bells rang as they normally would have on this special day, and no extra lights decorated a city trying hard not to make a more conspicuous target of itself. Compared to the normal hustle and bustle, glitz and glam of London; the bare bones image of it now was a reflection of how only the strong spirit of survival had kept the city going in the age of adversity facing it.
It was Christmas Eve,
APH Blessed FicAPH Blessed Fic in Short Stories More Like This
"Dad, is magic real?"
Sitting beneath the swaying canopy of the flourishing elm, watching the sunlight dance across the ancient labor of a scribe long since passed, worlds away from home and somehow at peace it was hard not to believe in it.
"Yes," the Englishman simply replied, and carefully turned the page of the book in his lap.
Alfred gave an exasperated sigh and placed his hand in the center of the text, prompting his caregiver to look up. "I mean in more than just the stories you tell me. I want to see real magic why can't I?"
Arthur remained silent and still, almost transfixed, for a time. The summer breeze drifted in over the lake, soothing invisible hands through the grass and branches of the tree. Alfred continued to watch his mentor's strangely vacant expression with intense curiosity, but soon became distracted by the leaves falling around them.
The boy looked up in wonderment, removing his hand from the book to reach up and catch some of the