Vanilla Twilight [2a/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 19:44:23 UTC
America felt bright sun shining directly onto his closed eyelids.
“Are you okay? Hey! Hey, wake up!”
Tentatively, he pried them open just a crack, enough to let the blinding sunlight scorch his eyes. Groaning, he rolled over, lifting a hand to shield himself from the sun. Twisting around, his other hand pressed itself against the grassy ground and he heaved himself into a sitting position.
Eyes adjusting to the brilliant light, America raised his gaze to the tops of the apple trees that surrounded him. Their leaves were dark green, spotted with dark red apples that glimmered like blood rubies from the branches. The sky was clear and cloudless, allowing the sun to penetrate the leaves and mask the ground in dappled light.
America turned his head to the source of the voice, and caught sight of someone jumping from the lower branches to the ground.
“Honestly, this is why I told you to leave the harvesting to me. What kind of person falls out of apple trees?” he said as he marched his way towards where America sat.
Avalon, America recognised him on sight, although his face was still slightly blurred. He could see the unruly, windswept golden hair poking out at angles and hear that slightly brash but sincere voice calling him.
“I wanted to reach the top branches. I wanted to get the apples at the very top,” America found himself speaking before he even knew what to say. He clambered to his feet and found that his body was moving on its own, as if following the directions of some higher power.
“I told you that those were too high, didn’t I?” Avalon huffed. Picking up his cape from the ground, he slung the dark green fabric around his shoulders and lifted the hood to shield himself from the sun.
America laughed. Or rather, his voice laughed for him.
“I wanted to get them for you.”
“You’re hopeless.”
America smiled at the tiny frown across Avalon’s lips - although he was not sure how he knew that Avalon was frowning since it was hard to see his face.
He also did not know why he stepped closer and cupped his hand around the side of Avalon’s face. It seemed incomprehensible to him and yet it felt right. It felt as if this was what he should be doing and, from the warmth that blossomed in his chest, he would not have objected to it even if he could.
“Avalon,” he mumbled, removing the hood so that he could bury his lips and nose into the tangle of golden hair. “Is the reason why you always smell so nice because you’re always gardening?”
Avalon pushed him away, although there was no unkindness in the gesture. “Don’t be foolish. It’s an apple orchard, not a garden. The apples grown here are - ”
“The best in the world, I know,” America caught his wrist and pulled him back with surprisingly little resistance. He pressed his lips to Avalon’s hair, breathing in deep the faint scent of the orchard. “You smell like apples. I wonder if you taste like apples also.”
Avalon’s lips curled with amusement. “Be wary. Some apples can be poisonous, you know?”
“I’d gladly die for just a bite!” America laughed, feigning a look of dramatic resolve.
Avalon conceded to laugh with him. Grinning, he grabbed Avalon’s cloak and fell backwards, dragging Avalon into a heap on top of him.
Yet neither of them struggled or jumped back up. Hair sprawled amongst the grass and fallen leaves, wicker baskets of sweet-smelling apples surrounding them from their suspended harvest, warm sun painting dots through the leaves onto their skin; America wrapped his arms around Avalon’s waist, appreciating the weight and warmth pressed against his chest.
Silently, Avalon wriggled further up to kiss his lips. America did not know why but even the slight butterfly kiss of their lips brushing together felt normal. It felt as if they had done this over and over for a long time.
“Are you two okay?” another voice intruded; a voice that America both knew and did not know.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2b/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 19:45:16 UTC
Avalon jumped, blushing slightly as a young woman bouncing around apples in her apron ran towards them. Unlike Avalon, her face was clear to him; her dark green eyes, perhaps more grey than green, her too-sharp, too-thin nose, high cheeks and curly golden hair that fell in waves to the small of her back and even over her forehead.
“Terrible timing, Annwn, terrible timing,” America muttered as he sat up to brush the leaves out of his hair.
“Sister!” Avalon shot a sharp look down at him as he spoke to the woman. “This idiot fell out of the tree. We will never be done harvesting at this rate!”
“Then it is a good thing that I am here, right A..la..s…”
America turned as a second voice joined them. That voice! Didn’t he know that voice? Yet when he tried to remember he could not quite pin it down. He turned to look at the not-quite-stranger who had snuck upon them but -
America awoke with a start to find that he was staring at the light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Gingerly picking himself up, he looked around in confusion, as if he somehow expected apple trees and blue skies above his head. The room was silent and exactly as it had been the night before, though the sun had already climbed to the top of the sky and the clock on his table announced that the time was three o’clock.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2c/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 19:48:55 UTC
“America!”
The voice of the last person America had wanted to see - besides Germany perhaps - rung down the length of the corridor.
“Oh great, England,” he muttered, hoping to sneak away by pretending not to hear. However, luck was not on his side. Before he could escape around the nearest corner, England had grabbed his elbow.
He did not look happy.
“Where the hell were you?” England cried, his brows seeming to merge into one long line when he furrowed them in anger. “You missed the entire meeting and - are you okay?”
The grip on his elbow suddenly slackened. England looked at him with a look of sincere concern, which made America feel even worse because, if England was being thoughtful to him, then he really must look like a mess.
“Fine, fine,” America waved him away. He had only come to the meeting hall even though he knew the meeting would be over because he had wanted to distract himself with that mountain of paper work left on his desk.
“You look terrible,” England pursued and America had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“I said I’m fine,” he insisted, although his voice sounded weary even to his own ears.
England frowned at the cold responses he was receiving. “It’s all that junk food. It’s because you don’t eat properly that you get like this.”
“I suppose your scones would fix me?” America sighed, feeling his patience run thin. He really felt gravely ill and getting the usual lecture from England was absolutely the last thing that he needed.
Sighing, England opened his brief case and took out a small, red apple. “Here. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, right?”
America froze. Rather, his body just would not move. His brain was going through a meltdown at that moment but his body remained stiff.
“Right?” he heard England say but his voice sounded distant, as if listening under water.
Apples. The Apples grown in Avalon were the best…in…the…world.
“America?” England said, raising his voice just a little louder, but still America could not really hear him.
Avalon. Avalon.
“A…Ava…” America’s lips parted with the hint of a name just perched on his tongue.
Avalon. Avalon.
“America!” England’s voice startled him out of his trance. He turned his gaze to stare openly at the other nation as if trying to comprehend where he was and who they were. He never saw the look of hurt on England’s face or the concern that blossomed there.
“Fine, if you don’t want it, I’ll keep it,” England grumbled, hastily stashing the apple back into his briefcase.
As America floated back into himself, he felt all his fatigue return tenfold. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed; “Look, can I go? I really want to sleep.”
“You really don’t look good,” England agreed.
“England! America!” Germany came storming towards them at such a speed hat America wondered if someone up there just did not like him. Of all the people he could have run into…
“Germany. Is something wrong?” England looked puzzled.
Germany’s normally immaculately combed hair was breaking free of its usual style. Strands of blond fell over his forehead and his tie as crooked. It was definitely suspicious, America decided but he remained silent.
“There’s been an intruder. Someone has broken into the building. We’re placing this place on lockdown!” Germany panted, trying his best to remain composed, although they all knew the implications of an intruder at a meeting where all the major countries in the world were gathered. Worst of all…
“Wait, does that mean that I can’t get back to my hotel room?” America cried.
“You can sleep in your office,” Germany dismissed him off-hand.
“That’s - ” he wanted to protest but he as far too tired to do so. Perhaps he was growing anaemic? “Whatever. My head is spinning too much for this,” he groaned
“Here. I’ll help you,” England slung America’s arm around his shoulder and America, too tired to argue, allowed himself to be supported. Turning to Germany, England nodded. “Let me know if you do catch this person,” he said before partly dragging his burden away.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2d/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 19:50:06 UTC
They reached America’s office, or what was his temporary office for the duration of their meetings, and England let him collapse onto the small couch by the door.
“Are you alright? Want some water?” England glanced at the small water tank sitting isolated in the corner of his office.
“Just let me sleep,” America waved him away. Even as he spoke, he felt his eyes beginning to close and his limbs sink under what felt like the weight of a thousand tonnes.
The last thing he remembered was England gently sliding his hand over America’s sweaty forehead.
“You have a fever,” he heard him mumble, but that was all.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2a/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 19:57:11 UTC
“Thule! Kvenland!”
America hated these dreams. These dreams where he was himself and yet not himself at the same time.
These dreams that teased him with moments of complete bliss spent under the sun surrounded by the smell of apples only to shove him into moments like this in which the darkness could swallow him whole. These dreams in which he was only watching events that had already happened, unable to change anything although his mind screamed otherwise.
So much had happened since those bright days spent gathering apples with Avalon and his sister Annwn and - and -
“Avalon, have you seen them?!” his voice cried as met rendezvoused with the other nation in front of the stone fountain of Freyja, riding a chariot drawn by two large cats. He had become accustomed with not being able to see Avalon’s face.
Avalon shook his head, looking every bit as frantic as America felt. “No but I saw one of the black cloaks earlier, we need to be careful.”
“Stick with me,” America took his hand, drawing his sword with the other. He felt apprehensive at the very mention of the black cloaks. “Where’s Annwn?”
“My sister is with Ys. I know he’ll take care of her.”
America nodded. Although he could not quite remember who Ys was he felt as if he could trust this person. “Good. Stay close to me.”
They journeyed through the narrow passages of Thule’s royal castle but everything was strangely empty. They met with no corpses. It was as if the humans had known what would happen and had fled a long time ago…or perhaps they had been swallowed by something that left no bones in its wake.
The long corridors lines with decorative weaponry appeared to jeer at them as they steadily progressed. Shadows made by flaming torches caused shadows to flit over the stones.
“What’s going on?” Avalon growled. “I don’t understand why suddenly these black-cloaks have appeared. Why are they targeting us?”
“I don’t know but whoever they are, their next targets are Thule and Kvenland.”
Avalon shook his head in frustration. “I don’t understand. Only a few months ago our biggest worries were making sure that the harvest would be a good one, and now this.”
America nodded in agreement. It had been a year since that day when they had harvested the apples together but a year was not so long in their lives. It felt like merely yesterday.
Pushing open the doors to the feasting hall, their gaze simultaneously fell upon the sight of someone crouching down in the middle of the tables.
“Thule!” America felt relief flood through him as he ran towards the other nation. However, he quickly realised as he approached that something was gravely wrong.
“Oh Gods…” he heard Avalon behind him gasp.
Short silver hair was stained with blood, the blue cape as tattered and torn, and more blood seeped from the gaping wound above Kvenland’s heart. His skin, normally pale, was growing even whiter with each moment.
Thule knelt beside the other nation, resting Kvenland’s head on his lap. Although Thule never spoke much, somehow the two of them had managed to nurture a budding friendship which had blossomed over the centuries into something not quite describable.
Shaking his hand out of his gauntlet, Thule reached down and closed the open, but sightless, violet eyes of the smaller nation.
“H’s de’d,” Thule mumbled.
“W - What did you say?” America had to ask again. He had not heard a word of that half-spoken mumble. Thule had always had such a clear, rich voice.
“H’s de’d,” Thule mumbled the same almost incomprehensible words. It was if Kvenland’s death had taken away his voice, leaving him only to mumble for the rest of his life. It was as if it was not worth putting the effort into speaking properly without Kvenland.
“K - Kvenland,” Avalon sunk besides the body, quietly begging him to come back. Come back and bring Thule’s clear voice back with him.
“Th’ bl’ck cloaks. Th’y d’d th’s,” the mumbling continued but, though neither of them could really understand him, they knew instinctively what he was saying.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2f/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 19:58:40 UTC
“Thule…do not do anything irrational…” America tentatively placed a hand on his heavy shoulder.
Thule threw him off, jumping to his feet with a look of murderous rage. He ran quickly for a nation his side, charging with a roar through the labyrinth passages.
“Thule!” America yelled. Why did his heart beat so quickly? Why did he feel as if he knew what would happen?
Looking down at Avalon drawing Kvenland’s arms over his chest, he thought he would be sick. He felt dizzy. He wanted to snatch Avalon away lest death infect him and steal him away too.
Gritting his teeth together, America ordered Avalon to stay where he was and hurtled down the passage after the shadow of the disappearing Thule.
XX
America’s skin was burning underneath England’s cool fingers. AS he watched him shift around in restless, haunted sleep, England wrung cold water from a flannel cloth and gently placed it on America’s forehead. He had no idea how America managed to make himself so ill, but it unnerved him.
America whimpered upon contact with the cold cloth, but England leaned forward to smooth down his sweat-stained hair and whisper soothingly into his ear.
“N - No, you’ll…die..” America’s hands wrenched the blanket England had managed to find in one of the store cupboards. “Help me stop him…Avalon!”
“Shhh,” England hushed him. “Shhh, it’s just a bad dream,” he whispered, although he felt each grown stab through him as well.
“He’s going to…die..!” America shook his head frantically in his sleep.
England watched him, pained, but did not dare to wake him. He wondered why this had happened in the first place. All that he could do was stroke his hair in hopes that he would calm down.
“Shhh, that’s all in the past. Leave everything to me. Just forget about it, you don’t have to worry about those things anymore,” he whispered.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2f/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 21:38:47 UTC
I just found this fill, so I'm going to have to reread before making a coherent review, but briefly? I LOVE THIS. This has so much potential, and of course England has more of an idea as to what's going on, lol.
This ... looks like it might just be epically long, in which case it may be one of the few long fills I read every time it's posted. ♥
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2f/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 22:22:29 UTC
**is suddenly craving an apple**
Ha. So England does know something! That'll help when America starts to realize that those dreams aren't quite that run of the mill.
I really have been enjoying this story!
And...ah...I have a bit of a request...I kinda sorta wanna write a little side-story for your fill. Please? I want to write a little thing about England/Avalon finding America. It's up to you, if you don't want to have another thing out there, and I might get everything flippin' wrong, but may I give it a try?
I'm glad you like the fill so far! Please go ahead and write your side story, I would love to read it too! Even if it ends up not quite fitting with the story it's okay.
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2f/?]
anonymous
March 7 2010, 23:02:43 UTC
So America IS Atlantis. Wow... and Kvenland and Thule seemed oddly familiar as well. I can't wait to know who the intruder is and what's going to happen. And does England remember being Avalon or is he dealing with memories in the same way that America is?!
Re: Vanilla Twilight [2f/?]
anonymous
March 8 2010, 00:51:08 UTC
Ahh, anon. Let me count the ways in which I freaking LOVE this fill!
First of all, your writing style is simply to die for. Seriously, it just...draws me in so perfectly, I feel like I'm there with the characters. Secondly, I am in love with how you turned 'Atlantis' into 'Alas' so damn perfectly. It fits and it works and it just...tugs at heartstrings. Alfred's 'dreams' are just perfect as well and in the apple orchard...I swear, Avalon and Atlantis were just sweet and cute enough without being totally over the top. Perfect.
And then we get Thule and Kvenland. And...that bit about Thule speaking like that forever...Made me gasp and feel so terrible. (Because...Well, I hope two certain nations were meant to pop up in my mind there...)And you've gone and made me look up a few new...err...ancient nations I didn't know about, such as Thule and Kvenland! Good job anon! And I'm very, very curious about who the black cloaks are...and whether Annwn is one... And who the intruders are! Are they related? I SHALL HAVE TO STAY TUNED!
Seriously anon, this fill looks set to be an EPIC one. I shall be waiting with bated breath!
“Are you okay? Hey! Hey, wake up!”
Tentatively, he pried them open just a crack, enough to let the blinding sunlight scorch his eyes. Groaning, he rolled over, lifting a hand to shield himself from the sun. Twisting around, his other hand pressed itself against the grassy ground and he heaved himself into a sitting position.
Eyes adjusting to the brilliant light, America raised his gaze to the tops of the apple trees that surrounded him. Their leaves were dark green, spotted with dark red apples that glimmered like blood rubies from the branches. The sky was clear and cloudless, allowing the sun to penetrate the leaves and mask the ground in dappled light.
America turned his head to the source of the voice, and caught sight of someone jumping from the lower branches to the ground.
“Honestly, this is why I told you to leave the harvesting to me. What kind of person falls out of apple trees?” he said as he marched his way towards where America sat.
Avalon, America recognised him on sight, although his face was still slightly blurred. He could see the unruly, windswept golden hair poking out at angles and hear that slightly brash but sincere voice calling him.
“I wanted to reach the top branches. I wanted to get the apples at the very top,” America found himself speaking before he even knew what to say. He clambered to his feet and found that his body was moving on its own, as if following the directions of some higher power.
“I told you that those were too high, didn’t I?” Avalon huffed. Picking up his cape from the ground, he slung the dark green fabric around his shoulders and lifted the hood to shield himself from the sun.
America laughed. Or rather, his voice laughed for him.
“I wanted to get them for you.”
“You’re hopeless.”
America smiled at the tiny frown across Avalon’s lips - although he was not sure how he knew that Avalon was frowning since it was hard to see his face.
He also did not know why he stepped closer and cupped his hand around the side of Avalon’s face. It seemed incomprehensible to him and yet it felt right. It felt as if this was what he should be doing and, from the warmth that blossomed in his chest, he would not have objected to it even if he could.
“Avalon,” he mumbled, removing the hood so that he could bury his lips and nose into the tangle of golden hair. “Is the reason why you always smell so nice because you’re always gardening?”
Avalon pushed him away, although there was no unkindness in the gesture. “Don’t be foolish. It’s an apple orchard, not a garden. The apples grown here are - ”
“The best in the world, I know,” America caught his wrist and pulled him back with surprisingly little resistance. He pressed his lips to Avalon’s hair, breathing in deep the faint scent of the orchard. “You smell like apples. I wonder if you taste like apples also.”
Avalon’s lips curled with amusement. “Be wary. Some apples can be poisonous, you know?”
“I’d gladly die for just a bite!” America laughed, feigning a look of dramatic resolve.
Avalon conceded to laugh with him. Grinning, he grabbed Avalon’s cloak and fell backwards, dragging Avalon into a heap on top of him.
Yet neither of them struggled or jumped back up. Hair sprawled amongst the grass and fallen leaves, wicker baskets of sweet-smelling apples surrounding them from their suspended harvest, warm sun painting dots through the leaves onto their skin; America wrapped his arms around Avalon’s waist, appreciating the weight and warmth pressed against his chest.
Silently, Avalon wriggled further up to kiss his lips. America did not know why but even the slight butterfly kiss of their lips brushing together felt normal. It felt as if they had done this over and over for a long time.
“Are you two okay?” another voice intruded; a voice that America both knew and did not know.
Reply
“Terrible timing, Annwn, terrible timing,” America muttered as he sat up to brush the leaves out of his hair.
“Sister!” Avalon shot a sharp look down at him as he spoke to the woman. “This idiot fell out of the tree. We will never be done harvesting at this rate!”
“Then it is a good thing that I am here, right A..la..s…”
America turned as a second voice joined them. That voice! Didn’t he know that voice? Yet when he tried to remember he could not quite pin it down. He turned to look at the not-quite-stranger who had snuck upon them but -
America awoke with a start to find that he was staring at the light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Gingerly picking himself up, he looked around in confusion, as if he somehow expected apple trees and blue skies above his head. The room was silent and exactly as it had been the night before, though the sun had already climbed to the top of the sky and the clock on his table announced that the time was three o’clock.
Shit.
Reply
The voice of the last person America had wanted to see - besides Germany perhaps - rung down the length of the corridor.
“Oh great, England,” he muttered, hoping to sneak away by pretending not to hear. However, luck was not on his side. Before he could escape around the nearest corner, England had grabbed his elbow.
He did not look happy.
“Where the hell were you?” England cried, his brows seeming to merge into one long line when he furrowed them in anger. “You missed the entire meeting and - are you okay?”
The grip on his elbow suddenly slackened. England looked at him with a look of sincere concern, which made America feel even worse because, if England was being thoughtful to him, then he really must look like a mess.
“Fine, fine,” America waved him away. He had only come to the meeting hall even though he knew the meeting would be over because he had wanted to distract himself with that mountain of paper work left on his desk.
“You look terrible,” England pursued and America had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
“I said I’m fine,” he insisted, although his voice sounded weary even to his own ears.
England frowned at the cold responses he was receiving. “It’s all that junk food. It’s because you don’t eat properly that you get like this.”
“I suppose your scones would fix me?” America sighed, feeling his patience run thin. He really felt gravely ill and getting the usual lecture from England was absolutely the last thing that he needed.
Sighing, England opened his brief case and took out a small, red apple. “Here. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, right?”
America froze. Rather, his body just would not move. His brain was going through a meltdown at that moment but his body remained stiff.
“Right?” he heard England say but his voice sounded distant, as if listening under water.
Apples. The Apples grown in Avalon were the best…in…the…world.
“America?” England said, raising his voice just a little louder, but still America could not really hear him.
Avalon. Avalon.
“A…Ava…” America’s lips parted with the hint of a name just perched on his tongue.
Avalon. Avalon.
“America!” England’s voice startled him out of his trance. He turned his gaze to stare openly at the other nation as if trying to comprehend where he was and who they were. He never saw the look of hurt on England’s face or the concern that blossomed there.
“Fine, if you don’t want it, I’ll keep it,” England grumbled, hastily stashing the apple back into his briefcase.
As America floated back into himself, he felt all his fatigue return tenfold. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed; “Look, can I go? I really want to sleep.”
“You really don’t look good,” England agreed.
“England! America!” Germany came storming towards them at such a speed hat America wondered if someone up there just did not like him. Of all the people he could have run into…
“Germany. Is something wrong?” England looked puzzled.
Germany’s normally immaculately combed hair was breaking free of its usual style. Strands of blond fell over his forehead and his tie as crooked. It was definitely suspicious, America decided but he remained silent.
“There’s been an intruder. Someone has broken into the building. We’re placing this place on lockdown!” Germany panted, trying his best to remain composed, although they all knew the implications of an intruder at a meeting where all the major countries in the world were gathered. Worst of all…
“Wait, does that mean that I can’t get back to my hotel room?” America cried.
“You can sleep in your office,” Germany dismissed him off-hand.
“That’s - ” he wanted to protest but he as far too tired to do so. Perhaps he was growing anaemic? “Whatever. My head is spinning too much for this,” he groaned
“Here. I’ll help you,” England slung America’s arm around his shoulder and America, too tired to argue, allowed himself to be supported. Turning to Germany, England nodded. “Let me know if you do catch this person,” he said before partly dragging his burden away.
Reply
“Are you alright? Want some water?” England glanced at the small water tank sitting isolated in the corner of his office.
“Just let me sleep,” America waved him away. Even as he spoke, he felt his eyes beginning to close and his limbs sink under what felt like the weight of a thousand tonnes.
The last thing he remembered was England gently sliding his hand over America’s sweaty forehead.
“You have a fever,” he heard him mumble, but that was all.
Reply
America hated these dreams. These dreams where he was himself and yet not himself at the same time.
These dreams that teased him with moments of complete bliss spent under the sun surrounded by the smell of apples only to shove him into moments like this in which the darkness could swallow him whole. These dreams in which he was only watching events that had already happened, unable to change anything although his mind screamed otherwise.
So much had happened since those bright days spent gathering apples with Avalon and his sister Annwn and - and -
“Avalon, have you seen them?!” his voice cried as met rendezvoused with the other nation in front of the stone fountain of Freyja, riding a chariot drawn by two large cats. He had become accustomed with not being able to see Avalon’s face.
Avalon shook his head, looking every bit as frantic as America felt. “No but I saw one of the black cloaks earlier, we need to be careful.”
“Stick with me,” America took his hand, drawing his sword with the other. He felt apprehensive at the very mention of the black cloaks. “Where’s Annwn?”
“My sister is with Ys. I know he’ll take care of her.”
America nodded. Although he could not quite remember who Ys was he felt as if he could trust this person. “Good. Stay close to me.”
They journeyed through the narrow passages of Thule’s royal castle but everything was strangely empty. They met with no corpses. It was as if the humans had known what would happen and had fled a long time ago…or perhaps they had been swallowed by something that left no bones in its wake.
The long corridors lines with decorative weaponry appeared to jeer at them as they steadily progressed. Shadows made by flaming torches caused shadows to flit over the stones.
“What’s going on?” Avalon growled. “I don’t understand why suddenly these black-cloaks have appeared. Why are they targeting us?”
“I don’t know but whoever they are, their next targets are Thule and Kvenland.”
Avalon shook his head in frustration. “I don’t understand. Only a few months ago our biggest worries were making sure that the harvest would be a good one, and now this.”
America nodded in agreement. It had been a year since that day when they had harvested the apples together but a year was not so long in their lives. It felt like merely yesterday.
Pushing open the doors to the feasting hall, their gaze simultaneously fell upon the sight of someone crouching down in the middle of the tables.
“Thule!” America felt relief flood through him as he ran towards the other nation. However, he quickly realised as he approached that something was gravely wrong.
“Oh Gods…” he heard Avalon behind him gasp.
Short silver hair was stained with blood, the blue cape as tattered and torn, and more blood seeped from the gaping wound above Kvenland’s heart. His skin, normally pale, was growing even whiter with each moment.
Thule knelt beside the other nation, resting Kvenland’s head on his lap. Although Thule never spoke much, somehow the two of them had managed to nurture a budding friendship which had blossomed over the centuries into something not quite describable.
Shaking his hand out of his gauntlet, Thule reached down and closed the open, but sightless, violet eyes of the smaller nation.
“H’s de’d,” Thule mumbled.
“W - What did you say?” America had to ask again. He had not heard a word of that half-spoken mumble. Thule had always had such a clear, rich voice.
“H’s de’d,” Thule mumbled the same almost incomprehensible words. It was if Kvenland’s death had taken away his voice, leaving him only to mumble for the rest of his life. It was as if it was not worth putting the effort into speaking properly without Kvenland.
“K - Kvenland,” Avalon sunk besides the body, quietly begging him to come back. Come back and bring Thule’s clear voice back with him.
“Th’ bl’ck cloaks. Th’y d’d th’s,” the mumbling continued but, though neither of them could really understand him, they knew instinctively what he was saying.
Reply
Thule threw him off, jumping to his feet with a look of murderous rage. He ran quickly for a nation his side, charging with a roar through the labyrinth passages.
“Thule!” America yelled. Why did his heart beat so quickly? Why did he feel as if he knew what would happen?
Looking down at Avalon drawing Kvenland’s arms over his chest, he thought he would be sick. He felt dizzy. He wanted to snatch Avalon away lest death infect him and steal him away too.
Gritting his teeth together, America ordered Avalon to stay where he was and hurtled down the passage after the shadow of the disappearing Thule.
XX
America’s skin was burning underneath England’s cool fingers. AS he watched him shift around in restless, haunted sleep, England wrung cold water from a flannel cloth and gently placed it on America’s forehead. He had no idea how America managed to make himself so ill, but it unnerved him.
America whimpered upon contact with the cold cloth, but England leaned forward to smooth down his sweat-stained hair and whisper soothingly into his ear.
“N - No, you’ll…die..” America’s hands wrenched the blanket England had managed to find in one of the store cupboards. “Help me stop him…Avalon!”
“Shhh,” England hushed him. “Shhh, it’s just a bad dream,” he whispered, although he felt each grown stab through him as well.
“He’s going to…die..!” America shook his head frantically in his sleep.
England watched him, pained, but did not dare to wake him. He wondered why this had happened in the first place. All that he could do was stroke his hair in hopes that he would calm down.
“Shhh, that’s all in the past. Leave everything to me. Just forget about it, you don’t have to worry about those things anymore,” he whispered.
“Leave everything to me, Atlantis.”
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This ... looks like it might just be epically long, in which case it may be one of the few long fills I read every time it's posted. ♥
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Ha. So England does know something! That'll help when America starts to realize that those dreams aren't quite that run of the mill.
I really have been enjoying this story!
And...ah...I have a bit of a request...I kinda sorta wanna write a little side-story for your fill. Please? I want to write a little thing about England/Avalon finding America. It's up to you, if you don't want to have another thing out there, and I might get everything flippin' wrong, but may I give it a try?
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I HAVE TO KNOW! *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE*
This story is too addicting.
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Needs more of this fill so bad!!!
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First of all, your writing style is simply to die for. Seriously, it just...draws me in so perfectly, I feel like I'm there with the characters. Secondly, I am in love with how you turned 'Atlantis' into 'Alas' so damn perfectly. It fits and it works and it just...tugs at heartstrings. Alfred's 'dreams' are just perfect as well and in the apple orchard...I swear, Avalon and Atlantis were just sweet and cute enough without being totally over the top. Perfect.
And then we get Thule and Kvenland. And...that bit about Thule speaking like that forever...Made me gasp and feel so terrible. (Because...Well, I hope two certain nations were meant to pop up in my mind there...)And you've gone and made me look up a few new...err...ancient nations I didn't know about, such as Thule and Kvenland! Good job anon! And I'm very, very curious about who the black cloaks are...and whether Annwn is one... And who the intruders are! Are they related? I SHALL HAVE TO STAY TUNED!
Seriously anon, this fill looks set to be an EPIC one. I shall be waiting with bated breath!
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