Swallow The Knife [Part 4/4]
anonymous
September 7 2010, 01:38:05 UTC
Some moments Alfred regretted his decisions. Like when the teen Arthur said he hated him. Alfred began to hate himself after those nights, often drowning his anger in alcohol. But in the end he spoiled him, still, gave him seeds and animals and technology for free, gave him everything he wanted and ever dreamed to ask for, money and power and adoration, he fawned over him and shared his food with him and even invited him into his bed a few times, though he was refused.
This pattern continued, even as he got older and older, turning into a handsome young man. Women surrounded the budding gentleman, his own puberty going much smoother than America's had, his voice not seeming to crack, his face never once breaking out in pimples, his gait never gaudy or awkward but always practiced and perfect.
Arthur was blooming right before his eyes. Alfred felt that, as his father figure, it was a right to take some of the resources he had put into his son back. He had given him so much and Arthur had never contributed. So when Alfred was faced with war on the other side of the world, he went to Arthur and held out his hand for the money he was owed.
- - -
Alfred often found when he arrived on the dark shores of England that it was raining. It might have been a sense of narcissism or just a passing thought that it was raining because England was sad. Logically it shouldn't have made sense to him. When he himself was sad or happy the weather didn't change for him, but his reasoning never kicked in, not fully, because shortly after this thought occurred to him he would always see a tall figure standing at the edge of the beach, waiting, often with a snide remark and a terribly cooked meal there as well. And so the day that he had seen the familiar shore and had realized that it was bright and warm and sunny for once was a momentous day. He planned on celebrating it, in fact, until he found a musket aimed at his face, the metal of the bayonet shining as gleefully as the teeth on the grinning faces of the men he had brought with them, all armed.
Arthur stared him down, eyes calculating every last move he made. He had seen those eyes, had seen the destruction they had seen. The gore of it all flashed into his mind, the bodies of four little boys torn apart filling his heart with the knowledge that he was doomed, as doomed as they were.
“Get off of my beach,” Arthur had said, so poignant and so cruel, so very strong. Stronger than Alfred was. He had cursed himself that moment. “This land is my land. These people are my people. And mine does not mean yours.” The bayonet had gone through his stomach the moment he had opened his mouth, simple force sending him onto his back on the beach, white sand turning a dull red beneath him.
Arthur stood over him, eyes full of... nothing. Utter nothing.
“Did you think you could trick me?” He hissed. “You were like all the others, Alfred. You only gave because you wanted something back.” Another attempt at redeeming himself was met with the barrel of the gun. “I was never a child to you, I was an investment. Don't try to sugarcoat it. You will leave my land, and you will never, ever come back.”
Alfred shook. Perhaps it was the blood seeping from him, perhaps it was the fact that he could now see tears in Arthur's deep eyes. Perhaps it was that finally, it had started to rain a cold, cold rain.
-
WOW. That took a very, very angsty turn... ah, assume that it all ends happily for them? Somehow? I don't know, I intended to make it sappy and cute and fluffy and I got... this. I'm terribly sorry OP!Anon, if anyone else wants to do this request justice they definitely should!
Re: Swallow The Knife [Part 4/4]
anonymous
September 9 2010, 01:21:28 UTC
Not-OP, but I thought the angst was kind of fitting- in terms of how it panned out in this world this fic stops at the revolutionary war. Not the happiest of times for these two. (So it's also not too farfetched to say that it all works out eventually.) Anyway, don't worry! Some things don't turn out how you'd expect, but they can (this included) still turn out brilliantly.
Re: Swallow The Knife [Part 4/4]
anonymous
September 12 2010, 20:42:55 UTC
WOW.
I had never expected such an emotional fill when I requested this! It was great to read, and Chibi!England is so adorable but...twisted in a way. You did a really good job - OP is impressed! And what are you apologising for? It was fantastic! ^^
This pattern continued, even as he got older and older, turning into a handsome young man. Women surrounded the budding gentleman, his own puberty going much smoother than America's had, his voice not seeming to crack, his face never once breaking out in pimples, his gait never gaudy or awkward but always practiced and perfect.
Arthur was blooming right before his eyes. Alfred felt that, as his father figure, it was a right to take some of the resources he had put into his son back. He had given him so much and Arthur had never contributed. So when Alfred was faced with war on the other side of the world, he went to Arthur and held out his hand for the money he was owed.
- - -
Alfred often found when he arrived on the dark shores of England that it was raining. It might have been a sense of narcissism or just a passing thought that it was raining because England was sad. Logically it shouldn't have made sense to him. When he himself was sad or happy the weather didn't change for him, but his reasoning never kicked in, not fully, because shortly after this thought occurred to him he would always see a tall figure standing at the edge of the beach, waiting, often with a snide remark and a terribly cooked meal there as well. And so the day that he had seen the familiar shore and had realized that it was bright and warm and sunny for once was a momentous day. He planned on celebrating it, in fact, until he found a musket aimed at his face, the metal of the bayonet shining as gleefully as the teeth on the grinning faces of the men he had brought with them, all armed.
Arthur stared him down, eyes calculating every last move he made. He had seen those eyes, had seen the destruction they had seen. The gore of it all flashed into his mind, the bodies of four little boys torn apart filling his heart with the knowledge that he was doomed, as doomed as they were.
“Get off of my beach,” Arthur had said, so poignant and so cruel, so very strong. Stronger than Alfred was. He had cursed himself that moment. “This land is my land. These people are my people. And mine does not mean yours.” The bayonet had gone through his stomach the moment he had opened his mouth, simple force sending him onto his back on the beach, white sand turning a dull red beneath him.
Arthur stood over him, eyes full of... nothing. Utter nothing.
“Did you think you could trick me?” He hissed. “You were like all the others, Alfred. You only gave because you wanted something back.” Another attempt at redeeming himself was met with the barrel of the gun. “I was never a child to you, I was an investment. Don't try to sugarcoat it. You will leave my land, and you will never, ever come back.”
Alfred shook. Perhaps it was the blood seeping from him, perhaps it was the fact that he could now see tears in Arthur's deep eyes. Perhaps it was that finally, it had started to rain a cold, cold rain.
-
WOW. That took a very, very angsty turn... ah, assume that it all ends happily for them? Somehow? I don't know, I intended to make it sappy and cute and fluffy and I got... this. I'm terribly sorry OP!Anon, if anyone else wants to do this request justice they definitely should!
Reply
Anyway, don't worry! Some things don't turn out how you'd expect, but they can (this included) still turn out brilliantly.
Reply
I had never expected such an emotional fill when I requested this! It was great to read, and Chibi!England is so adorable but...twisted in a way. You did a really good job - OP is impressed! And what are you apologising for? It was fantastic! ^^
Have you done any other fills?
Reply
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