Untitled ;A; [2/3]
anonymous
February 10 2010, 13:23:42 UTC
It was when Denmark came over during Anne’s coronation that, for the first time since she could remember, England was jealous of somebody getting close to her brother.
France had always hinted that he wasn’t interested in woman, citing her attempts to woo Scotland into her bed and ‘properly bond through their alliance’ only to be rejected and that in the one time he gave in, he was unable to be excited at the prospect. England always scoffed at the thought, pointing out her brother‘s fascination (and near mental break down) over his Mary.
“That’s one woman in, how long? Face it, your brother is too accustom to being the Scandinavians’ whore and can‘t truly comprehend the wonders of a woman‘s touch.”
At that point, the argument was usually ended with a hard slap on the face from England but, as she continued to hide behind the book shelf and occasionally peak out from it, it seemed the frog bitch could be right.
She couldn’t hear what was being said but whatever it was seemed to be enough to make Scotland blush and Denmark laugh before cupping his chin, closing in for a kiss.
The books that fell beside her were definitely not her trying to prevent the scene from unfolding any further and causing Scotland to jump while Denmark looked over at her with a tooth grin. He knew she was there the whole time, didn’t he?
She hung round long enough for Denmark to whisper something to Scotland only to gain a rather brutal punch to the shoulder for it.
---
“England, what are you up to?” Wales’ calm, almost too calm, voice echoed across the large hall, leaving England frozen to the spot by the new act to be signed while her elder brother casually walked over, admiring the fairies trying to hide in her hair. “Late night magic? You haven’t done that for a while.”
Scowling, she took a few steps away from Wales. “I just want to make sure.” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, swallowing nervously when he raised a bushy eyebrow, questioning her.
When she said nothing, he sighed. “You still don’t trust him.” It was a statement, one that England already had a response made up in her mind but Wales raised his hand before she could. “No, don’t argue, think about it England. He could have used the Act of Settlement to orchestrate a get out clause for when Anne dies but he didn’t. Instead he tied himself to us, to you, so much more than he already has.”
England looked down, it was true. Scotland had always looked at any offer to join her and the rest of their family with fear, as if it would kill him. But now he was willingly giving himself up. “B-but why?”
“Prince William.” Was all Wales would say, kissing her on the head before leaving her to her thoughts.
France had always hinted that he wasn’t interested in woman, citing her attempts to woo Scotland into her bed and ‘properly bond through their alliance’ only to be rejected and that in the one time he gave in, he was unable to be excited at the prospect. England always scoffed at the thought, pointing out her brother‘s fascination (and near mental break down) over his Mary.
“That’s one woman in, how long? Face it, your brother is too accustom to being the Scandinavians’ whore and can‘t truly comprehend the wonders of a woman‘s touch.”
At that point, the argument was usually ended with a hard slap on the face from England but, as she continued to hide behind the book shelf and occasionally peak out from it, it seemed the frog bitch could be right.
She couldn’t hear what was being said but whatever it was seemed to be enough to make Scotland blush and Denmark laugh before cupping his chin, closing in for a kiss.
The books that fell beside her were definitely not her trying to prevent the scene from unfolding any further and causing Scotland to jump while Denmark looked over at her with a tooth grin. He knew she was there the whole time, didn’t he?
She hung round long enough for Denmark to whisper something to Scotland only to gain a rather brutal punch to the shoulder for it.
---
“England, what are you up to?” Wales’ calm, almost too calm, voice echoed across the large hall, leaving England frozen to the spot by the new act to be signed while her elder brother casually walked over, admiring the fairies trying to hide in her hair. “Late night magic? You haven’t done that for a while.”
Scowling, she took a few steps away from Wales. “I just want to make sure.” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, swallowing nervously when he raised a bushy eyebrow, questioning her.
When she said nothing, he sighed. “You still don’t trust him.” It was a statement, one that England already had a response made up in her mind but Wales raised his hand before she could. “No, don’t argue, think about it England. He could have used the Act of Settlement to orchestrate a get out clause for when Anne dies but he didn’t. Instead he tied himself to us, to you, so much more than he already has.”
England looked down, it was true. Scotland had always looked at any offer to join her and the rest of their family with fear, as if it would kill him. But now he was willingly giving himself up. “B-but why?”
“Prince William.” Was all Wales would say, kissing her on the head before leaving her to her thoughts.
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