The Amazing Race [1/?]
Title: The Amazing Race [1/?]
Genre: AU/Adventure/Comedy/some Romance
Pairing(s)/Characters: Main-America, England, France, Spain, Austria/Hungary, PrusCan, Poland/Lithuania, Russia, Belarus. Others to come.
Rating/Warnings: PG this chapter
Summary: The search for the Golden Sphere is on! Chaos, hilarity, and insanity ensue as Alfred and his somewhat loyal crew undertake a quest for the wondrous artifact that will bring riches and glory to their nations-if they can get to it before the Reds do, that is!
Author’s Notes: I fail at summaries. This was originally something I posted to the USxUK community, but I decided I’d prefer it as a different kind of fic. In this fic, all countries, including America, are kingdoms unless otherwise stated. Elizabeth Ann Seton is mine, and is supposed to be the personification of New York.
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Letting his head fall backwards, Alfred stared up at the clear blue sky and breathed in deeply, the salty sea air invading his senses. He thanked whatever deities existed that the old wooden ship, the Eagle, that his father had deemed worthy to give him had pulled through the storm, and that the monstrous waves hadn’t completely swamped it. There had been, actually, little damage to the vessel, and Feliks could easily repair the gash in the sail, provided he wasn’t in one of his navigation highs.
Looking out over the ocean, he stared at the blurred outline of land that, according to the seagull he’d caught earlier, was England. He’d send Matthew over two hours ago to gather news; only three months ago, they’d received a telegram from the king of England saying that they were under attack from the Danes. Prior to Alfred and Matthew’s departure from Chesapeake Bay, their father had warned them to stay away from England.
“Don’t try to be a hero,” he’d said, looking very pointedly at Alfred.
But then, he was almost three thousand miles away. And if he wanted to keep Alfred from doing something stupid (heroic, Alfred stubbornly substituted), he’d have never set him loose with no supervision other than his brother, who could be easily silenced.
There was a sharp kick to the back of his heel as Elizabeth Ann Seton (a name she detested with every fiber of her being; even before leading the revolt, she’d been far from saint-like), the only female crew member as of yet, came to stand beside him. Her short chestnut hair fluttered in the breeze, revealing the six or so rings in her ear. Even in the bright, warm sunlight she wore her usual uniform of black leather pants, black knee-high boots, black t-shirt, and black golfing gloves. The short sword hanging from her right hip and the six-shooter on her left gave her, overall, a dangerous, do-not-fuck-with-me look.
“Anythin’ yet?” she asked, her New York accent giving her a rather cynical tone.
“Nope,” he said, reaching down to rub his stinging ankle. “Although, I’d like it if you stopped kicking me every time you want my attention.”
“Hey, just because you’re the prince, doesn’t mean I have to actually respect you,” she said.
“Despite the fact that I talked Dad out of putting you in jail?” Alfred retaliated, a smirk on his face.
“Alfred, that was only because you needed my fighting skills for your little adventure team, she fired back. She pointed out towards the sea and said, “I think I see Matthew.”
Turning back towards the ocean, Alfred saw a small rowboat coming towards the ship. A distinct blonde head was rowing it, and Alfred was suddenly impatient as he lowered the rope ladder to let Matthew onto the ship.
As his brother’s head appeared over the guardrail, Alfred demanded, “Well?”
“It’s the Danes, alright,” Matthew said, swinging his legs over. “They’ve managed to capture London, and they’ve taken the princess captive.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and asked, “I thought they had a prince?”
Matthew shrugged. “I asked a man what had happened, and he said prince too…..but they were parading her through the street in chains. I mean, she looked like a girl. And the man was pretty old, too.”
“Did you get a look at the camps or anything?” Alfred asked.
His brother nodded. Alfred’s face spread into a wide grin and a scheming look was in his eyes. Catching it, Matthew sighed wearily.
“Dad said no, Alfred.”
“Right, and where’s Dad, hmm? On the other side of the ocean, safe and ignorant in Washington. C’mon, Mattie, don’t you wanna have a little fun? Save some damsels in distress?”
“Well….,” the Canadian trailed off, hesitant to defy his father’s orders but loath to leave someone in danger.
“Great! Tell the rest of the crew that there’s a meeting in half an hour. We’ve got a princess to save!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Roderich’s soft music sounded through what was the meeting room of the Eagle as the rest of the crew-Alfred, Matthew, Elizabeth, Vash and his fellow soldier Lars, and Feliks- filed in. He was curled up in a chair on one side of the table, eyes softly closed as he pressed the keys in the groove of his staff, both of its blades folded in safely. It was no piano, but it would do until he had the time to sit down and play properly.
Eyes opening, he took note of the six pairs of eyes watching him and promptly slid the thin wooden covering over the keys, gesturing for Alfred to begin.
“Okay!” the American said, spreading out a map on which Matthew made marks indicating where the Danish invaders had set up camps. “According to Matthew, they’re holding the princess here-“ He pointed to a crudely drawn picture of a tent that was circled in red. “-and they’ll be moving her out of England tomorrow.”
“Remind us again why we’re doing this?” Vash asked, displeasure obvious on his face.
“Because it’s the heroic thing to do!”
“And how can all seven of us go,” the Swiss man continued, his teeth now clenched in irritation. “and leave the ship unattended?”
“Actually, we won’t have to leave it unattended,” Matthew said, cutting Alfred’s sharp reply. “I was in the camp earlier. I don’t think they’re expecting an attack, because I walked right in and started talking to one of the guards. If only a few of us go, the rest can have the ship ready to set sail as soon as we get back.”
Vash still looked skeptical, but Feliks chimed in suddenly with, “He’s, like, right, about leaving quickly. Weather conditions are totally in our favor, we could so be out of here in twenty, thirty minutes if we set at full sail. We could be through the Strait of Gibraltar and in France in like-” He stopped and did a few aerial math calculations. “-a week or two, if we don’t get another storm like last night.”
“See!” Alfred exclaimed, slapping his hand down triumphantly. “Now I know you people won’t argue if Feliks says it. He hasn’t been wrong yet, has he?”
Vash grumbled and glared at him, and Lars, in his oddly high-pitched voice, said, “Um…why don’t we vote on it?”
There was a prolonged silence before Roderich said, “I believe it would, as Alfred puts it, be a heroic thing to do. Perhaps not a smart thing, but heroic all the same. Yes.” He turned to Elizabeth.
“Fuck yes!” she growled excitedly.
Matthew simply nodded, as did Alfred and Feliks. Lars had blushed and stammered out a ‘yes’, until the only one left was Vash, who, defeated, muttered an agreement.
“If we’re going to go through with this, I suggest we start getting ready,” Roderich said, glancing out the porthole at the setting sun. “It will be dark soon, and that will provide us with ideal conditions.”
“Alright!” Alfred said, rubbing his hands together. “Now we’re talking!”
“So, like, who’s going and who’s staying?” Feliks asked.
Thinking for a moment, Alfred said, “Matthew, Roderich and Elizabeth are coming with me. The rest of you stay here and get ready to haul ass once we get back.”
An amused smirk on her face as she heard her name, Elizabeth asked, “It’s like you don’t trust me to not hijack the ship.”
“I don’t, actually.”
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Guys, if you didn’t understand anything, chill. It’ll be explained.
Note: As stated in the Author’s notes, Elizabeth is my personification of New York. She’s named after the first American saint, who was in fact a New Yorker, as well as the reason we have Catholic schools. Don’t expect this Elizabeth to be anything like her.