[Fanfiction] Silly Old Bear
For: trishpawachunyu
Request: A normal autumn day in England's house, where he is accompanied by a certain silly old bear named Winnie-the-Pooh. I have this certain symbolism that Pooh's one of the 'ghosts' of England's past (IRL, the real Christopher Robin considered his memories of Pooh to be the 'ghosts' of his childhood), so he'll fit in with Halloween just fine, seeing as it's considered to be the day when spirits and other supernaturals are more free to roam the earth. That's the logic behind it, but I don't want it too be touched too much upon (lest it be...un-fluffy). Bonus points for teatime with England's tea and Pooh Bear's honey, or if America or Russia joins along. (Russia likes Pooh, IMHO.)
Characters/Pairings: England, Russia
Summary: A normal day for England is a little more special when his friends are there and a new guest is invited for tea.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
England set the last stitch in the small red shirt, clipped off the thread, and tested his stitches. The mended tear held and he nodded slightly in satisfaction, glancing up at the clock. Done, and with plenty of time left before tea.
Carefully he put his mending kit back into the large old wardrobe that sat in the corner of his study, breathing in the scent of heavy woods that came from inside. He didn’t care if having a wardrobe in his study made little sense, having it there was comforting. The plain, heavy dark wood gleamed as he stroked it, closing the door firmly.
Turning from the wardrobe, he checked the large window next to it, making sure he hadn’t accidentally locked it. He’d promised, after all. Satisfied it was still open, he picked up the little red shirt and left the room, leaving the door ajar behind him on purpose.
He noted with some pride as he walked downstairs and past the living room that the small table and chairs he’d purchased from the miniatures store in London were missing from beside the mantle clock where he’d left them last night. He’d have to leave a note behind the clock and see if there was anything he should keep an eye out for next time he passed by that shop.
In the kitchen, he left the shirt on the table as he started the kettle and began getting out the tea things. Taking out a sugar cube, he almost absentmindedly set it on the counter behind the tea canister, hidden out of sight before pulling an extra jar from the cupboard.
“Is that hunny I smell?” said a soft rumbly voice by his knee, and he looked down at the small bear standing next to him.
“Yes, it is, but it’s for tea. Here, I fixed your shirt,” England replied, smiling the way he only smiled for his magical friends, the soft and gentle one that reached his eyes. “Arms up.”
The stuffed bear raised his arms and England knelt to slip the shirt over his head, tugging it into place.
“There now, that’s better. Try not to rip it again,” England said lovingly, stroking the bear’s head. “Silly old bear.”
Both heads turned as the front doorbell rang.
“Oh, that must be our guest for tea. He came to see you more than me, so why don’t you go answer it, Pooh Bear. I’ll just finish putting everything together and meet you in the garden.”
“Okay,” Pooh hummed happily, toddling off toward the door as England stood. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the rest of the things he had prepared for today’s tea, putting them all onto a tray with the regular tea things.
On any regular day he could have tea like this, but today was special. During this time of year, near Samhain, his magical friends were more powerful, and another nation that truly wished to see them could, almost as easily as England himself. His guest had been shy about asking to come, but he wanted to believe, and that was what mattered today.
Picking up the tray, England walked outside, smiling as a small cat wrapped itself around his legs. It jumped up onto the garden wall, nodding at him solemnly, the blue flowers of the necklace wrapped around its body glowing against its white fur. England nodded back, equally solemn, as his cat, Crumpet, joined the other cat atop the wall. The two cats touched noses in greeting before the white cat jumped down off the wall, going on his way while Crumpet leapt from his perch on the wall to land on England’s shoulders.
England turned the corner to the secluded part of his rose garden he was planning on having tea, the small white gazebo with roses twining around it and the small table and chairs inside that looked like a scene out of a fairy book, smiling at the fairies that giggled from the flowers and the small white rabbit in a waistcoat that slipped through his garden and down a hole at the base of a tree.
The table and gazebo under the trees looked even smaller with Russia sitting inside, the table looking almost child sized with the large nation sitting at it. Russia was smiling a real smile, not his normal fake childish smile, as Pooh Bear perched in his lap and pointed out different parts of the garden. He held Pooh Bear surprisingly gently, looking up at England as he approached.
Crumpets jumped off his shoulder to the rail of the gazebo as England set down the tea tray. Russia smiled a little wider and gave Winnie the Pooh a little squeeze as England poured out the tea and sat down.
“Thank you for letting me come, Англия,” Russia said softly, hesitant to disturb the peace of the garden.
England offered the honey jar to Russia and bent slightly before he answered, picking up the small brown rabbit wearing a blue coat that had come to sniff by his ankles and settling him on his lap, giving him the small bowl of carrots he had brought out while Russia, at Pooh’s urging, gave Pooh Bear the honey jar.
“It was my pleasure, Russia. I’m glad you came.”
Author notes: I’ll be honest, when I first got this request my reaction was ”…crud, I know next to nothing about Winnie-the-Pooh!” Then this idea came into my head and well…I know it’s not exactly what you requested, but I hope you don’t mind that I played with the idea a little. How many references can you spot? ;)
Also, Англия - Russian for “England” Small headcanon there, that a nation would use their language’s version of another nation’s name as a small intimacy.
Request: A normal autumn day in England's house, where he is accompanied by a certain silly old bear named Winnie-the-Pooh. I have this certain symbolism that Pooh's one of the 'ghosts' of England's past (IRL, the real Christopher Robin considered his memories of Pooh to be the 'ghosts' of his childhood), so he'll fit in with Halloween just fine, seeing as it's considered to be the day when spirits and other supernaturals are more free to roam the earth. That's the logic behind it, but I don't want it too be touched too much upon (lest it be...un-fluffy). Bonus points for teatime with England's tea and Pooh Bear's honey, or if America or Russia joins along. (Russia likes Pooh, IMHO.)
Characters/Pairings: England, Russia
Summary: A normal day for England is a little more special when his friends are there and a new guest is invited for tea.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
England set the last stitch in the small red shirt, clipped off the thread, and tested his stitches. The mended tear held and he nodded slightly in satisfaction, glancing up at the clock. Done, and with plenty of time left before tea.
Carefully he put his mending kit back into the large old wardrobe that sat in the corner of his study, breathing in the scent of heavy woods that came from inside. He didn’t care if having a wardrobe in his study made little sense, having it there was comforting. The plain, heavy dark wood gleamed as he stroked it, closing the door firmly.
Turning from the wardrobe, he checked the large window next to it, making sure he hadn’t accidentally locked it. He’d promised, after all. Satisfied it was still open, he picked up the little red shirt and left the room, leaving the door ajar behind him on purpose.
He noted with some pride as he walked downstairs and past the living room that the small table and chairs he’d purchased from the miniatures store in London were missing from beside the mantle clock where he’d left them last night. He’d have to leave a note behind the clock and see if there was anything he should keep an eye out for next time he passed by that shop.
In the kitchen, he left the shirt on the table as he started the kettle and began getting out the tea things. Taking out a sugar cube, he almost absentmindedly set it on the counter behind the tea canister, hidden out of sight before pulling an extra jar from the cupboard.
“Is that hunny I smell?” said a soft rumbly voice by his knee, and he looked down at the small bear standing next to him.
“Yes, it is, but it’s for tea. Here, I fixed your shirt,” England replied, smiling the way he only smiled for his magical friends, the soft and gentle one that reached his eyes. “Arms up.”
The stuffed bear raised his arms and England knelt to slip the shirt over his head, tugging it into place.
“There now, that’s better. Try not to rip it again,” England said lovingly, stroking the bear’s head. “Silly old bear.”
Both heads turned as the front doorbell rang.
“Oh, that must be our guest for tea. He came to see you more than me, so why don’t you go answer it, Pooh Bear. I’ll just finish putting everything together and meet you in the garden.”
“Okay,” Pooh hummed happily, toddling off toward the door as England stood. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the rest of the things he had prepared for today’s tea, putting them all onto a tray with the regular tea things.
On any regular day he could have tea like this, but today was special. During this time of year, near Samhain, his magical friends were more powerful, and another nation that truly wished to see them could, almost as easily as England himself. His guest had been shy about asking to come, but he wanted to believe, and that was what mattered today.
Picking up the tray, England walked outside, smiling as a small cat wrapped itself around his legs. It jumped up onto the garden wall, nodding at him solemnly, the blue flowers of the necklace wrapped around its body glowing against its white fur. England nodded back, equally solemn, as his cat, Crumpet, joined the other cat atop the wall. The two cats touched noses in greeting before the white cat jumped down off the wall, going on his way while Crumpet leapt from his perch on the wall to land on England’s shoulders.
England turned the corner to the secluded part of his rose garden he was planning on having tea, the small white gazebo with roses twining around it and the small table and chairs inside that looked like a scene out of a fairy book, smiling at the fairies that giggled from the flowers and the small white rabbit in a waistcoat that slipped through his garden and down a hole at the base of a tree.
The table and gazebo under the trees looked even smaller with Russia sitting inside, the table looking almost child sized with the large nation sitting at it. Russia was smiling a real smile, not his normal fake childish smile, as Pooh Bear perched in his lap and pointed out different parts of the garden. He held Pooh Bear surprisingly gently, looking up at England as he approached.
Crumpets jumped off his shoulder to the rail of the gazebo as England set down the tea tray. Russia smiled a little wider and gave Winnie the Pooh a little squeeze as England poured out the tea and sat down.
“Thank you for letting me come, Англия,” Russia said softly, hesitant to disturb the peace of the garden.
England offered the honey jar to Russia and bent slightly before he answered, picking up the small brown rabbit wearing a blue coat that had come to sniff by his ankles and settling him on his lap, giving him the small bowl of carrots he had brought out while Russia, at Pooh’s urging, gave Pooh Bear the honey jar.
“It was my pleasure, Russia. I’m glad you came.”
Author notes: I’ll be honest, when I first got this request my reaction was ”…crud, I know next to nothing about Winnie-the-Pooh!” Then this idea came into my head and well…I know it’s not exactly what you requested, but I hope you don’t mind that I played with the idea a little. How many references can you spot? ;)
Also, Англия - Russian for “England” Small headcanon there, that a nation would use their language’s version of another nation’s name as a small intimacy.