Bring Me My Bow
Title: Bring Me My Bow
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Pairing(s): USUK
Word Count: 2,163
Rating/Warnings: 12, swearing
Summary: Done for the usxuk ' Summer Olympics'. America challenges England to an archery contest, completely unaware of what he's letting himself in for.
"You built an archery range in your back garden," England said flatly, wearing a 'I'm-unimpressed-can-you-see-how-unimpressed-I-am-this-reminds-of-the-time-that-you-thought-you-could-fly-without-wings-and-I-gave-you-this-same-look' expression. His face was very expressive or maybe America was reading far too much into it. The point was that England was ruining his awesome new archery range with his downer talk.
"Of course I have! I can fire guns really good but after talking to Australia, he was saying that I was a pansy for relying on guns to do my fighting. Then we had a wrestling match which I would have won if he hadn't been a dirty cheater and I figured that maybe I should learn some other stuff apart from shooting. So, I've been doing some wrestling and kung-fu stuff and then I thought that I could do archery and challenge Australia to an archery contest! Then I can beat him and prove that I am, once again, the number one hero!" America finished and England looked a mixture between confused and irritated. This was normal so America passed over it.
"There's an archery range in your back garden because you were just being you, am I correct?"
"Dude, I just explained why," America said, rolling his eyes. England was always using different words to explain something that was already so simple. "Did you bring bow and arrows like I told you to? If not, it's okay, I have some spare."
"No, I do actually have bow and arrows." England was looking at America like he should know something but England was not surprised when he didn't. This look was one of England's most annoying ones because it displayed disappointment, not something that England threw around lightly.
"Great! I was thinking that we could have an archery contest!" America knew that if he could beat England, then Australia would be easy. He had shared the plan with France, who, after laughing hysterically for about fifteen minutes, had agreed so America knew it was true.
"America," England said innocently and that was never, ever a good sign. "Do you know what I mean when I say Agincourt or Crécy?" America searched his memory banks but all it turned up was the catchy tune from the advert he watched earlier. Why couldn't he get it out of his head?
"Nope, not a clue. Is it more old man stuff again?" England gave him an odd look, a mixture of exasperation and a smile. It horribly confused America, but then again, England always did.
"Ah, yes. I suppose it is. So, how is this contest going to work?"
"Well, we each fire three arrows and the one who gets the most closest to the bulls-eye wins!" America was really excited about this. He had been surprised at how much he had enjoyed archery when he first started and he was looking forward to testing himself. His instructor said he had made progress but he was paying the guy to teach him, so he had to test himself against other archers before he could say that.
"Okay. You'll fire three arrows and then I'll fire three arrows, and we'll see who is the winner." England was being strangely agreeable and it made America want to question him about what was going on. But maybe after the contest.
America pulled out his compound bow and put the release on his hand. He needed all the accuracy that he could get.
"What is that?" England asked, sounding genuinely shocked and America looked back to see him staring at America's bow with a confused look. "It looks like someone took a bow and put a load of gadgets on it."
"It's a compound bow. Haven't you seen one before?" It was fun to tease England, especially when the reddy purple colour that he had gone now.
"Just shoot it," England replied irritably and America went back to preparing to shoot, smirking to himself. He wondered what bow England had to find his so surprising. He lined up his shot, made sure his stance was correct and aimed before letting the arrow fly. The thud of the arrow against the target was satisfying and America prepared himself for the next arrow.
He felt very calm when he was shooting, it cleared his mind like almost nothing else did. He even forgot England was there, too busy just letting himself sink into this state and firing his arrows to worry about it. It was almost disappointing to come out of it at the end and he looked at the target to see how he did.
Two red, in both rings, and one gold, in the 9th ring. It was some of the best he had ever done and he felt a thrill of pride as he looked back at England. The other nation was staring at him, his eyes wide and cheeks slightly flushed. It looked like he had received the shock of his life and America felt unwanted worry creep into his mind.
"Er... England? Are you alright?" He asked and England seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in.
"You - You have to do that again," England said in this strangely hoarse voice. America wondered if he should get him a drink after the contest, it was a really warm day after all and England probably was not used to the dry air since his land was so wet.
"No way, it's your turn. And you have to beat that score!" America pointed to the target, grinning at England. He had done really well and if he could shoot like that against Australia, then he would win for definite! England glanced quickly at the target but soon looked back at America.
"If I win, will you do that again?" England asked and America felt confused. He didn't understand why England wanted to see him shoot archery so badly, but it might help him to do his best so America could really see how much he had improved.
"Sure. It's a bit weird but yeah." America shrugged. It was just another weird, England request. "You go and get your bow and I'll get my arrows out." England nodded, still being creepily agreeable and went inside. America walked over to pull his arrows out of the target. England was being really odd today and America had to figure out exactly what was going on. It was his duty as a friend and as a hero to find out what was wrong with England.
After he collected his arrows, he went back over to a waiting England, who was giving him weird looks again. America was about to ask what was wrong when he caught sight of the bow at England's side.
"England, why do you have a piece of wood and string with you? That can't be your bow, it's ancient!" England pulled the bow towards his body, looking quite defensive and it was only then that America realised that he might take it as an insult. England took the strangest things as insults.
"It's a good bow," England replied, sounding more like his usual self. America was relieved, at the same time as being a little sceptical.
"Okay, then let's see it in action." America stepped back and let England get into position. Of course he could not do it without one last glare at America but this was normal and so America waved and gave him the biggest smile back.
England notched the arrow and drew the string back, looking very fluid and easy as if the bow was part of him and his expression was peaceful and it felt like he was drawing America in... wait a minute, did he just hit a bullseye?
America gaped at the target and then at England. He was in shock until England fired the other two arrows, getting them both on gold rings before putting the bow down with a satisfied expression like he was the cat that got the cream.
"How did you do that?" America asked and England turned to him, the smug look fading until he was just looking annoyed.
"Really, America, you need to read up on the history of other countries once in a while. The Battle of Agincourt, the Battle of Crécy, Robin Hood, it's even the song 'Jerusalem' which I know you've heard several different times. Ask France about them if you really want to know." England was about to storm off, something he did when he was angry enough and had said what he wanted to say, but he stopped. "Oh, and since I can't get what I wanted and you promised I could have when I won, I'll have to get something else."
"Something else?" America asked, his brain reeling from all this information and England leaning in was not helping. There was a fleeting pressure on his lips, definitely not long enough for America to actually enjoy it and England continued his storming off, his face so red that he was glowing in the sun.
The decision was hard, to chase after England or to call France and find out what the hell England was talking about. Long, painful experience told America that he needed to let England cool off for a while before he tried to speak to him again so the decision was made. He dialled France's number on his phone.
America started to put his arrows away and was walking over to pull England's arrows when France answered.
"America, it's eleven o'clock at night. Why are you calling me at this time?" France sounded tired but awake and so America continued.
"England said something about the battle of Agincourt and the battle of Crey-cee, what was he talking about?" There was rustling on the other end of the phone and America hoped that France was not doing anything perverted.
"Why were you two talking about that?" Oh, he wasn't being perverted, he was just angry.
"We were having an archery contest, I told you about it earlier, and when I asked England how come he was so good, I mean, come on, he got like near perfect every single time, he just said those battles and Robin Hood, but I already know about Robin Hood, there's like movies of him and everything."
Luckily this was enough to convince France and he started talking, very quickly. "Those battles were in the Hundred Years' War and they were... English victories mostly due to their archers with their longbows."
"Oh, I get it. So England learned how to be really good at archery after his people defeated yours?"
"Goodbye, America." The dial tone in his ear was rather sudden but America didn't care because now he knew something else about England. England was sure to feel proud about what his archers had done. That sounded cool.
He started towards the house, ready to confront England but then he remembered what had happened right before England had run off. His cheeks warmed as well and he felt like he could not move any closer to England. The possibilities were running through his head at the moment and, even though America could not possibly be accused of over-thinking things, he was second-guessing himself and wondering what he should do.
The moment passed. America straightened up and put his shoulders back. England needed a hero and America was exactly the one he needed. He marched off towards the house, ready to find England and set things straight.
After searching for a good twenty minutes, America's passionate attitude had faded a little. He could not find England anywhere. Maybe it was time to think like he did.
"Grumpy old man, horrible cook, likes being alone, sees imaginary faries - oh, the library!" With a new goal in mind, America headed off.
He found England curled up by the window, a book in his lap even though he seemed to be staring into thin air. "Found you! I've been looking for ages!" England jumped and looked at America, slightly bewildered.
"America...?" He asked, waiting for an explanation and America remembered all the speeches he had planned.
"Oh, yeah!" He strode forward so he was right next to the chair and dropped his hands onto England's shoulder. "I called France about the Battle of Agincourt and the Battle of Crey-cee - "
"Crécy," England interrupted. America dismissed this with a toss of his head.
"Whatever. Anyway, these battles were when you kicked France's ass with a bow and arrow. And it's not polite to walk off after kissing someone." It was then that America pulled England up into a kiss, knowing he was much better at action than words. England responded flatteringly quickly and so very enthusiastically that America lost his head for a moment. He pulled away, ready to make his point. "See, if I walked away now, that would be ru - omph." England pulled America back down into another kiss, silencing any other words or even thoughts from America. It looked like he really did not want America to walk away.
Okay, maybe he could let England win.
Just this once.
Everyone knows how much I love my notes. So here they are!
Compound bow
English/Welsh longbow
Jerusalem (inspiration for the title)
100 Years War with Hetalia stick figures
Genre: Romance/Fluff
Pairing(s): USUK
Word Count: 2,163
Rating/Warnings: 12, swearing
Summary: Done for the usxuk ' Summer Olympics'. America challenges England to an archery contest, completely unaware of what he's letting himself in for.
"You built an archery range in your back garden," England said flatly, wearing a 'I'm-unimpressed-can-you-see-how-unimpressed-I-am-this-reminds-of-the-time-that-you-thought-you-could-fly-without-wings-and-I-gave-you-this-same-look' expression. His face was very expressive or maybe America was reading far too much into it. The point was that England was ruining his awesome new archery range with his downer talk.
"Of course I have! I can fire guns really good but after talking to Australia, he was saying that I was a pansy for relying on guns to do my fighting. Then we had a wrestling match which I would have won if he hadn't been a dirty cheater and I figured that maybe I should learn some other stuff apart from shooting. So, I've been doing some wrestling and kung-fu stuff and then I thought that I could do archery and challenge Australia to an archery contest! Then I can beat him and prove that I am, once again, the number one hero!" America finished and England looked a mixture between confused and irritated. This was normal so America passed over it.
"There's an archery range in your back garden because you were just being you, am I correct?"
"Dude, I just explained why," America said, rolling his eyes. England was always using different words to explain something that was already so simple. "Did you bring bow and arrows like I told you to? If not, it's okay, I have some spare."
"No, I do actually have bow and arrows." England was looking at America like he should know something but England was not surprised when he didn't. This look was one of England's most annoying ones because it displayed disappointment, not something that England threw around lightly.
"Great! I was thinking that we could have an archery contest!" America knew that if he could beat England, then Australia would be easy. He had shared the plan with France, who, after laughing hysterically for about fifteen minutes, had agreed so America knew it was true.
"America," England said innocently and that was never, ever a good sign. "Do you know what I mean when I say Agincourt or Crécy?" America searched his memory banks but all it turned up was the catchy tune from the advert he watched earlier. Why couldn't he get it out of his head?
"Nope, not a clue. Is it more old man stuff again?" England gave him an odd look, a mixture of exasperation and a smile. It horribly confused America, but then again, England always did.
"Ah, yes. I suppose it is. So, how is this contest going to work?"
"Well, we each fire three arrows and the one who gets the most closest to the bulls-eye wins!" America was really excited about this. He had been surprised at how much he had enjoyed archery when he first started and he was looking forward to testing himself. His instructor said he had made progress but he was paying the guy to teach him, so he had to test himself against other archers before he could say that.
"Okay. You'll fire three arrows and then I'll fire three arrows, and we'll see who is the winner." England was being strangely agreeable and it made America want to question him about what was going on. But maybe after the contest.
America pulled out his compound bow and put the release on his hand. He needed all the accuracy that he could get.
"What is that?" England asked, sounding genuinely shocked and America looked back to see him staring at America's bow with a confused look. "It looks like someone took a bow and put a load of gadgets on it."
"It's a compound bow. Haven't you seen one before?" It was fun to tease England, especially when the reddy purple colour that he had gone now.
"Just shoot it," England replied irritably and America went back to preparing to shoot, smirking to himself. He wondered what bow England had to find his so surprising. He lined up his shot, made sure his stance was correct and aimed before letting the arrow fly. The thud of the arrow against the target was satisfying and America prepared himself for the next arrow.
He felt very calm when he was shooting, it cleared his mind like almost nothing else did. He even forgot England was there, too busy just letting himself sink into this state and firing his arrows to worry about it. It was almost disappointing to come out of it at the end and he looked at the target to see how he did.
Two red, in both rings, and one gold, in the 9th ring. It was some of the best he had ever done and he felt a thrill of pride as he looked back at England. The other nation was staring at him, his eyes wide and cheeks slightly flushed. It looked like he had received the shock of his life and America felt unwanted worry creep into his mind.
"Er... England? Are you alright?" He asked and England seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in.
"You - You have to do that again," England said in this strangely hoarse voice. America wondered if he should get him a drink after the contest, it was a really warm day after all and England probably was not used to the dry air since his land was so wet.
"No way, it's your turn. And you have to beat that score!" America pointed to the target, grinning at England. He had done really well and if he could shoot like that against Australia, then he would win for definite! England glanced quickly at the target but soon looked back at America.
"If I win, will you do that again?" England asked and America felt confused. He didn't understand why England wanted to see him shoot archery so badly, but it might help him to do his best so America could really see how much he had improved.
"Sure. It's a bit weird but yeah." America shrugged. It was just another weird, England request. "You go and get your bow and I'll get my arrows out." England nodded, still being creepily agreeable and went inside. America walked over to pull his arrows out of the target. England was being really odd today and America had to figure out exactly what was going on. It was his duty as a friend and as a hero to find out what was wrong with England.
After he collected his arrows, he went back over to a waiting England, who was giving him weird looks again. America was about to ask what was wrong when he caught sight of the bow at England's side.
"England, why do you have a piece of wood and string with you? That can't be your bow, it's ancient!" England pulled the bow towards his body, looking quite defensive and it was only then that America realised that he might take it as an insult. England took the strangest things as insults.
"It's a good bow," England replied, sounding more like his usual self. America was relieved, at the same time as being a little sceptical.
"Okay, then let's see it in action." America stepped back and let England get into position. Of course he could not do it without one last glare at America but this was normal and so America waved and gave him the biggest smile back.
England notched the arrow and drew the string back, looking very fluid and easy as if the bow was part of him and his expression was peaceful and it felt like he was drawing America in... wait a minute, did he just hit a bullseye?
America gaped at the target and then at England. He was in shock until England fired the other two arrows, getting them both on gold rings before putting the bow down with a satisfied expression like he was the cat that got the cream.
"How did you do that?" America asked and England turned to him, the smug look fading until he was just looking annoyed.
"Really, America, you need to read up on the history of other countries once in a while. The Battle of Agincourt, the Battle of Crécy, Robin Hood, it's even the song 'Jerusalem' which I know you've heard several different times. Ask France about them if you really want to know." England was about to storm off, something he did when he was angry enough and had said what he wanted to say, but he stopped. "Oh, and since I can't get what I wanted and you promised I could have when I won, I'll have to get something else."
"Something else?" America asked, his brain reeling from all this information and England leaning in was not helping. There was a fleeting pressure on his lips, definitely not long enough for America to actually enjoy it and England continued his storming off, his face so red that he was glowing in the sun.
The decision was hard, to chase after England or to call France and find out what the hell England was talking about. Long, painful experience told America that he needed to let England cool off for a while before he tried to speak to him again so the decision was made. He dialled France's number on his phone.
America started to put his arrows away and was walking over to pull England's arrows when France answered.
"America, it's eleven o'clock at night. Why are you calling me at this time?" France sounded tired but awake and so America continued.
"England said something about the battle of Agincourt and the battle of Crey-cee, what was he talking about?" There was rustling on the other end of the phone and America hoped that France was not doing anything perverted.
"Why were you two talking about that?" Oh, he wasn't being perverted, he was just angry.
"We were having an archery contest, I told you about it earlier, and when I asked England how come he was so good, I mean, come on, he got like near perfect every single time, he just said those battles and Robin Hood, but I already know about Robin Hood, there's like movies of him and everything."
Luckily this was enough to convince France and he started talking, very quickly. "Those battles were in the Hundred Years' War and they were... English victories mostly due to their archers with their longbows."
"Oh, I get it. So England learned how to be really good at archery after his people defeated yours?"
"Goodbye, America." The dial tone in his ear was rather sudden but America didn't care because now he knew something else about England. England was sure to feel proud about what his archers had done. That sounded cool.
He started towards the house, ready to confront England but then he remembered what had happened right before England had run off. His cheeks warmed as well and he felt like he could not move any closer to England. The possibilities were running through his head at the moment and, even though America could not possibly be accused of over-thinking things, he was second-guessing himself and wondering what he should do.
The moment passed. America straightened up and put his shoulders back. England needed a hero and America was exactly the one he needed. He marched off towards the house, ready to find England and set things straight.
After searching for a good twenty minutes, America's passionate attitude had faded a little. He could not find England anywhere. Maybe it was time to think like he did.
"Grumpy old man, horrible cook, likes being alone, sees imaginary faries - oh, the library!" With a new goal in mind, America headed off.
He found England curled up by the window, a book in his lap even though he seemed to be staring into thin air. "Found you! I've been looking for ages!" England jumped and looked at America, slightly bewildered.
"America...?" He asked, waiting for an explanation and America remembered all the speeches he had planned.
"Oh, yeah!" He strode forward so he was right next to the chair and dropped his hands onto England's shoulder. "I called France about the Battle of Agincourt and the Battle of Crey-cee - "
"Crécy," England interrupted. America dismissed this with a toss of his head.
"Whatever. Anyway, these battles were when you kicked France's ass with a bow and arrow. And it's not polite to walk off after kissing someone." It was then that America pulled England up into a kiss, knowing he was much better at action than words. England responded flatteringly quickly and so very enthusiastically that America lost his head for a moment. He pulled away, ready to make his point. "See, if I walked away now, that would be ru - omph." England pulled America back down into another kiss, silencing any other words or even thoughts from America. It looked like he really did not want America to walk away.
Okay, maybe he could let England win.
Just this once.
Everyone knows how much I love my notes. So here they are!
Compound bow
English/Welsh longbow
Jerusalem (inspiration for the title)
100 Years War with Hetalia stick figures