And Bury My Body at Sea
Title: And Bury My Body at Sea
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: Arthur (UK), Alfred (US), supernatural beings
Pairing: Slight Alfred/Arthur
Rating: PG
Warning: Weird narrative? Descriptions of drowning.
Summary: When the water comes to take Arthur away in order to repay a debt from centuries ago, Alfred is the one to bring him back.
Notes: ... This turned out weird. It was going to be part of a longer story I've since scrapped, but I still have this basic backbone. I kind of wanted it to read like a fairy tale or a really strange poem, so hopefully I succeeded without taking away from the (very little) story!
I.
Alfred remembers the sea rising up to meet the ship. He remembers screaming. He remembers being terrified.
He remembers a figure emerging from the water - made of water. He remembers the stench. He remembers the terror as the boat rocked in the storm, threatening to capsize, to tumble apart into driftwood.
“Spare him,” he remembers Arthur saying. He remembers Arthur blocking him from view.
“Will you pay that price?” he remembers the water figure asking.
“Yes,” he remembers Arthur replying, without hesitation.
He doesn’t remember what happens next.
II.
The day Arthur goes missing, it’s after weeks without rain, but his house is damp and water-logged.
III.
Alfred doesn’t know why those memories come back to him now. It’s been centuries. But there are moments that come to him in sharp focus.
Arthur’s empty, flooded home smells like the sea. Even though the ocean is miles away. Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred sees sparkles of light. The fairies he tells himself aren’t there.
He doesn’t listen to them speak because they are not there.
“The water took him away,” one doesn’t say, because she is not there.
“It’s the debt he must repay,” another one doesn’t say, because she is not there.
“You must save him,” they do not say, because they are not there.
IV.
Alfred heads to the ocean.
V.
The waves are almost singing, as if calling him home. But the ocean was never his. It is Arthur’s. Alfred’s home is the sky.
He wades into the water, unsure where he is headed. But he knows, somehow, the water will guide him.
VI.
His clothes weigh him down. He cannot breathe, but he does not need to breathe.
Instead, he experiences the sensation of drowning without the release of death. His lungs fill with water. His body bloats. He feels himself fold inward, the pressure pressing out and pressing in.
He lets the water take him away. He lies down into the currents and tide and it’s like he’s flying.
He closes his eyes and drowns.
VII.
And drowns--
VIII.
Drowns----
IX.
When he opens his eyes, he is part of the water. There is a woman watching him, hair curling around her, her tail curling below her.
Her eyes are luminous. They watch him.
“You aren’t real,” he says, can speak despite being underwater.
She tilts her head to the side. Watches him. “You seek what was taken. You seek the man of the water?”
“I need to get Arthur back.”
She tilts her head over to the other side. She watches him. Her eyes glow in the water. The sun is a distant glow above them.
“‘Need’?” she mimics.
“Where is he?” he asks.
She curls her head down, almost like a bird. “Why do you say I am not real?”
“What?”
“Why?” she repeats.
His voice is bubbles. “I just don’t believe in this supernatural crap.”
And then she laughs.
X.
“But what are you, if not a supernatural being?”
XI.
He starts from the question. “What?”
She repeats the question.
“I’m not - ”
“But you do not live as a human does. You live longer. You age slower. You heal. You do not die.” She tilts her head back into place. “You did not drown to come here. If you are not a supernatural being, then what are you?”
XII.
He doesn’t have an answer.
XIII.
“Where’s Arthur?” he asks instead.
She curls around herself, points, leads the way. Alfred drowns. Follows.
XIV.
When he opens his eyes again, the woman is gone. In her place, the man of water.
Arthur hangs, floats. Upside down. Blue. Like he is dead. Drowned.
“Why did you come here?” the man of water asks.
“Spare him,” Alfred says. Does not beg.
The water laughs. It is a strange sound. “He must pay the price so that I would spare you. You were meant to live here, centuries ago.”
“Why would he agree to this price?” Alfred demands. The man of water does not answer.
He tries to reach for Arthur. He cannot.
XV.
He tries.
XVI.
But he cannot.
XVII.
“Let him go.”
“Would you pay the price instead?” the man of water asks. “For his freedom?”
“What is it?”
The water is cold. He misses the sensation of breathing, even if he does not need it.
He misses daylight.
He thinks he hears a whale’s song in the distance.
“You and he would both pay it.”
“What is it?”
XVIII.
He tells him.
XIX.
“Give him to me.”
XX.
When Arthur opens his eyes, he is on solid ground. Alfred is watching him.
“You…”
“How do you feel?” Alfred asks, touches his cheek.
“How am I here?” he asks. He coughs up water.
“I came to get you.”
“But how…?”
Alfred looks out at the ocean, soft hisses and whispers of distant worlds.
“You can never touch it again.”
Arthur looks at him. And then at the water. His face is pained.
“Why would you do that to me?”
“It’s the only way I could set you free. I need to keep you from the water for the rest of our lives.”
Arthur is silent. He bites his lip. He looks like he will cry. Like his entire world has been stolen from him.
It has.
So he cries.
But he is free. He is safe. He is solid.
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: Arthur (UK), Alfred (US), supernatural beings
Pairing: Slight Alfred/Arthur
Rating: PG
Warning: Weird narrative? Descriptions of drowning.
Summary: When the water comes to take Arthur away in order to repay a debt from centuries ago, Alfred is the one to bring him back.
Notes: ... This turned out weird. It was going to be part of a longer story I've since scrapped, but I still have this basic backbone. I kind of wanted it to read like a fairy tale or a really strange poem, so hopefully I succeeded without taking away from the (very little) story!
I.
Alfred remembers the sea rising up to meet the ship. He remembers screaming. He remembers being terrified.
He remembers a figure emerging from the water - made of water. He remembers the stench. He remembers the terror as the boat rocked in the storm, threatening to capsize, to tumble apart into driftwood.
“Spare him,” he remembers Arthur saying. He remembers Arthur blocking him from view.
“Will you pay that price?” he remembers the water figure asking.
“Yes,” he remembers Arthur replying, without hesitation.
He doesn’t remember what happens next.
II.
The day Arthur goes missing, it’s after weeks without rain, but his house is damp and water-logged.
III.
Alfred doesn’t know why those memories come back to him now. It’s been centuries. But there are moments that come to him in sharp focus.
Arthur’s empty, flooded home smells like the sea. Even though the ocean is miles away. Out of the corner of his eye, Alfred sees sparkles of light. The fairies he tells himself aren’t there.
He doesn’t listen to them speak because they are not there.
“The water took him away,” one doesn’t say, because she is not there.
“It’s the debt he must repay,” another one doesn’t say, because she is not there.
“You must save him,” they do not say, because they are not there.
IV.
Alfred heads to the ocean.
V.
The waves are almost singing, as if calling him home. But the ocean was never his. It is Arthur’s. Alfred’s home is the sky.
He wades into the water, unsure where he is headed. But he knows, somehow, the water will guide him.
VI.
His clothes weigh him down. He cannot breathe, but he does not need to breathe.
Instead, he experiences the sensation of drowning without the release of death. His lungs fill with water. His body bloats. He feels himself fold inward, the pressure pressing out and pressing in.
He lets the water take him away. He lies down into the currents and tide and it’s like he’s flying.
He closes his eyes and drowns.
VII.
And drowns--
VIII.
Drowns----
IX.
When he opens his eyes, he is part of the water. There is a woman watching him, hair curling around her, her tail curling below her.
Her eyes are luminous. They watch him.
“You aren’t real,” he says, can speak despite being underwater.
She tilts her head to the side. Watches him. “You seek what was taken. You seek the man of the water?”
“I need to get Arthur back.”
She tilts her head over to the other side. She watches him. Her eyes glow in the water. The sun is a distant glow above them.
“‘Need’?” she mimics.
“Where is he?” he asks.
She curls her head down, almost like a bird. “Why do you say I am not real?”
“What?”
“Why?” she repeats.
His voice is bubbles. “I just don’t believe in this supernatural crap.”
And then she laughs.
X.
“But what are you, if not a supernatural being?”
XI.
He starts from the question. “What?”
She repeats the question.
“I’m not - ”
“But you do not live as a human does. You live longer. You age slower. You heal. You do not die.” She tilts her head back into place. “You did not drown to come here. If you are not a supernatural being, then what are you?”
XII.
He doesn’t have an answer.
XIII.
“Where’s Arthur?” he asks instead.
She curls around herself, points, leads the way. Alfred drowns. Follows.
XIV.
When he opens his eyes again, the woman is gone. In her place, the man of water.
Arthur hangs, floats. Upside down. Blue. Like he is dead. Drowned.
“Why did you come here?” the man of water asks.
“Spare him,” Alfred says. Does not beg.
The water laughs. It is a strange sound. “He must pay the price so that I would spare you. You were meant to live here, centuries ago.”
“Why would he agree to this price?” Alfred demands. The man of water does not answer.
He tries to reach for Arthur. He cannot.
XV.
He tries.
XVI.
But he cannot.
XVII.
“Let him go.”
“Would you pay the price instead?” the man of water asks. “For his freedom?”
“What is it?”
The water is cold. He misses the sensation of breathing, even if he does not need it.
He misses daylight.
He thinks he hears a whale’s song in the distance.
“You and he would both pay it.”
“What is it?”
XVIII.
He tells him.
XIX.
“Give him to me.”
XX.
When Arthur opens his eyes, he is on solid ground. Alfred is watching him.
“You…”
“How do you feel?” Alfred asks, touches his cheek.
“How am I here?” he asks. He coughs up water.
“I came to get you.”
“But how…?”
Alfred looks out at the ocean, soft hisses and whispers of distant worlds.
“You can never touch it again.”
Arthur looks at him. And then at the water. His face is pained.
“Why would you do that to me?”
“It’s the only way I could set you free. I need to keep you from the water for the rest of our lives.”
Arthur is silent. He bites his lip. He looks like he will cry. Like his entire world has been stolen from him.
It has.
So he cries.
But he is free. He is safe. He is solid.