❝i loved you my lady though in your grave you lie❞
Title: The Wisest Fool
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: 420
Characters: England-centric, with OC’s and historical figures
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Written for hetalia_contest’s week 008 prompt, “highlander.” At Elizabeth I’s deathbed, England contemplates his new highland king.
The Wisest Fool
It had been scarcely a week since she had died.
All of England was in mourning, and that went no less for England himself. While the rest of the castle at buried its grief in the multitude of preparations needed to be completed before the arrival of their new king, he had stayed in the background, sitting beside the bed she’d died in.
“England? You’re still in here?”
Not bothering to knock or wait for an invitation, England’s eldest brother, Wales, allowed himself in. A dark haired man with discerning blue eyes, he looked his brother over from head-to-toe and gave a short, derisive laugh.
“Come on, boyo-don’t you want to greet your new king?”
England blinked once, pointedly, and then sighed and pushed his chair away from the now-empty bed. His eyes still held a dead look, but he glanced up at his brother and grimaced.
“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled. “and he’s your king too, remember?”
Wales laughed, again. “Oh, how could I forget? Your bonny kings conquered me, and now I’m forced to live here with you in London, enjoying the remarkable weather.”
“As if it was any better in Ludlow.”
“Yes, well,” Wales conceded with another chuckle. “but at least it was mine. And your Elizabeth, she took away the one thing that would have made this new king mine. I don’t suppose she ever even considered naming him Prince of Wales?”
“Don’t you dare say anything against her,” England warned, rising explosively from his chair. “Everyone knew she was giving her throne to that traitor Mary’s son; why should we have wasted all of our precious coin giving the Scots a ceremony and a reason to want to attack?”
Wales shook his head. “You can’t think like that anymore, England. After all, you’re the victor, in all of this. James and Scotland are down at the castle gates, but you’ll notice that you summoned them here, and we didn’t have to go to Edinburgh. You won, England.”
“Yes, but only because she died, first.”
Wales shook his head sympathetically. “But you knew that had to happen, sometime. And, really, England? She was sixty.”
“She was immortal,” England breathed, and his eyes seemed to light with the memory.
“No-if I remember correctly, that’s you.”
“Shut up,” England muttered. But he reached over to punch Wales in the shoulder, something his brother took as a good sign.
“Come on, little brother,” Wales murmured good-naturedly, “let’s go meet our new highland king.”
---
Footnotes:
* With the death of Elizabeth I, the last Tudor monarch, in 1603, the English monarchy was given to the Royal Stewart line of Scotland. Mary Queen of Scots had been Elizabeth’s cousin, the granddaughter of Henry VIII’s sister, Margaret. She tried to acquire the English throne during her lifetime, and was put to death for it. Upon Elizabeth’s death, James I, Mary’s son, was given the English throne. He was known as the ‘wisest fool in Christendom’ because of amazing education but poor ruling.
* Ludlow is a castle in Wales, known for its hideous weather. In English tradition, the heir to the throne is given the title ‘Prince of Wales.’ Elizabeth refused to name anyone with this title, as she thought that naming an heir would be predicting her own death.
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: 420
Characters: England-centric, with OC’s and historical figures
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Summary: Written for hetalia_contest’s week 008 prompt, “highlander.” At Elizabeth I’s deathbed, England contemplates his new highland king.
The Wisest Fool
It had been scarcely a week since she had died.
All of England was in mourning, and that went no less for England himself. While the rest of the castle at buried its grief in the multitude of preparations needed to be completed before the arrival of their new king, he had stayed in the background, sitting beside the bed she’d died in.
“England? You’re still in here?”
Not bothering to knock or wait for an invitation, England’s eldest brother, Wales, allowed himself in. A dark haired man with discerning blue eyes, he looked his brother over from head-to-toe and gave a short, derisive laugh.
“Come on, boyo-don’t you want to greet your new king?”
England blinked once, pointedly, and then sighed and pushed his chair away from the now-empty bed. His eyes still held a dead look, but he glanced up at his brother and grimaced.
“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled. “and he’s your king too, remember?”
Wales laughed, again. “Oh, how could I forget? Your bonny kings conquered me, and now I’m forced to live here with you in London, enjoying the remarkable weather.”
“As if it was any better in Ludlow.”
“Yes, well,” Wales conceded with another chuckle. “but at least it was mine. And your Elizabeth, she took away the one thing that would have made this new king mine. I don’t suppose she ever even considered naming him Prince of Wales?”
“Don’t you dare say anything against her,” England warned, rising explosively from his chair. “Everyone knew she was giving her throne to that traitor Mary’s son; why should we have wasted all of our precious coin giving the Scots a ceremony and a reason to want to attack?”
Wales shook his head. “You can’t think like that anymore, England. After all, you’re the victor, in all of this. James and Scotland are down at the castle gates, but you’ll notice that you summoned them here, and we didn’t have to go to Edinburgh. You won, England.”
“Yes, but only because she died, first.”
Wales shook his head sympathetically. “But you knew that had to happen, sometime. And, really, England? She was sixty.”
“She was immortal,” England breathed, and his eyes seemed to light with the memory.
“No-if I remember correctly, that’s you.”
“Shut up,” England muttered. But he reached over to punch Wales in the shoulder, something his brother took as a good sign.
“Come on, little brother,” Wales murmured good-naturedly, “let’s go meet our new highland king.”
---
Footnotes:
* With the death of Elizabeth I, the last Tudor monarch, in 1603, the English monarchy was given to the Royal Stewart line of Scotland. Mary Queen of Scots had been Elizabeth’s cousin, the granddaughter of Henry VIII’s sister, Margaret. She tried to acquire the English throne during her lifetime, and was put to death for it. Upon Elizabeth’s death, James I, Mary’s son, was given the English throne. He was known as the ‘wisest fool in Christendom’ because of amazing education but poor ruling.
* Ludlow is a castle in Wales, known for its hideous weather. In English tradition, the heir to the throne is given the title ‘Prince of Wales.’ Elizabeth refused to name anyone with this title, as she thought that naming an heir would be predicting her own death.