Timeworn Moments (America)

[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony NOTES: Finally posted. Please forgive possible inaccuracies. -- November 1689 -- The rocking of the waves, that sometimes harsh temper of the seas, and the salty winds that lulled the veils of his ship from sleep to awareness and back again, was once the closest that England had ever been to happiness. It was the moment that he had seized the maritime throne from Spain. Before, he would have fought with everything he was just to keep that small piece of broken happiness. Now, he felt like a duel pretender, a marauder of the seas that lived by the sword beneath the banner of his king and another face with a warmer disposition reserved for very few. Currently, England had yet again spilt Spanish blood—it slickened his sword, spattered his fine clothing, and smudged along the edge of his boots. His callous thought was that the greedy bastard deserved it for being too weak to defend his own wealth. The old nations lived in a world where it was better to be feared than loved. He had acquired his own wounds during his latest affair, mostly minor scratches and bruises. Well earned, he believed with a razor sharp smile. Still, even as he approached the New World, he tried to scrub out as much of the vileness as he could from his clothes and body—erase what violent evidence he could before packing away his faithless belongings and dressing himself into something more suitable. When he had finally arrived in Boston, England arranged for the majority of his extraneous luggage to be brought ahead of him, while keeping certain packages and trunks that he wanted to bring himself. He first made his way into the heart of Boston with business on his mind, calling first at the selectmen’s offices in the town hall. Tongues had apparently been busy in his absence, for it seemed that every other person he met enquired after his health… and later, the purpose for his unanticipated arrival. He kept his replies brief and gracious, if rather vague, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. He was glad to look over the few documents that required his attention and then just as quickly take his leave, heading next down to the wharf and the harbourmaster’s office. He came away from the meeting with a couple papers that held a written list of dates and times, which he carefully folded and tucked away in his pocket for safekeeping. As he left the docks, a baker’s shop caught his eye, and he stopped in to buy some penny buns. He had other errands to run, but those could be put off. The air smelled strongly of snow. Alfred had not been in Boston to greet him, which was not entirely unexpected. After all, last England had seen him; he was quite small and neither of them (so he assumed) would want to attract any unnecessary attention. He also had no reason to assume that England would make the crossing in winter, when the North Atlantic was treacherous enough to give even a seasoned sailor pause. Their last correspondence had been at least a month ago with the sluggish travel of their precious letters by ship. Arthur couldn’t remember if he had even mentioned when he would come to visit him next in his last one. The majority of the written contents contained reminders to stay healthy, to not get too filthy (despite the fact that Arthur knew he would regardless), to listen to his tutors, to not frighten the housekeeper with his antics (it had only happened once where Arthur was forced to raise her pay for the amount of trouble she had to deal with), while also writing him an occasional (carefully censored) retelling of Arthur’s travels or an exotic tale that he had heard while roving about during his exploits. Alfred seemed entertained enough by those, especially ones about the stars… or gallivanting explorers out to save the world. These thoughts hastened Arthur’s hidden enthusiasm to leave Boston and toward the large settlement to the west. He was able to get a fresh cart and horse to carry the rest of his more private belongings along with the usual bout of gifts before he could be well on his way. As the horse picked its way along the frost-hardened ruts of the cart road, England pulled his cloak closer about his shoulders and tried not to think too wistfully of warm spiced wine and snug chimney corners. He would be thankful for anything, really, to draw the lingering chill from his bones. By this time, Arthur could tell that he had been away from the New World for far too long, and he still was not accustomed to the sensations that had been sweeping over him ever since he had landed on its shores. The approaching winter air here was so sharp and clean that it almost hurt to breathe, half a world away from the pall of smoke that blurred London into a haze of grimy streets. The rivers flowed too swiftly, too sweetly, so very unlike the sluggish tidal washes of the Thames that it was hard to believe that the water they carried came from the depths of the same earth. And the people, his colonists… well, they too seemed different, weathered and worn by their struggle to make a living in this often inhospitable land, but not grounded down to weariness by a generation of war, fire, and plague. It was a strange feeling, almost disorienting to Arthur, but he knew it would pass before long. There was little he could do but ride it out. The occasional jarring of a rough patch of road caused England to hit against one of his bruises wrongly. His fingers whitened briefly over the reins, wincing away from the harsh movement. A thin tendril of blood trickled past his knuckle at the tightening of his hand beneath a hastily applied bandage to his palm. Cursing softly, he tied it tightly once more. It had been a particularly nasty gash that hadn’t crusted over with the beginnings of new skin. At least it was the only one he wore, Arthur reminded himself. It would be easy enough to hide. At least the crimson soiled coat, boats and other privateering assortments were safely tucked away in one of his trunks. He would just need to give them a proper wash while America was otherwise distracted during his stay. Before long, England detected thin trails of smoke rising against the slate-grey horizon, hinting at the nearness of his destination, a village, larger than most of the hamlets he had seen scattered about since leaving Boston. Gathering the reins, he gave his horse a bit of leg, easing it out of its working trot and into a gentle canter. Once he had reached the village, he would take a few moments to reorient himself and regain the lay of the land. It had taken nearly an hour more before Arthur had finally reached the all too familiar home along with the nearby wild greenery and the careful lining of modest rose bushes that England remembered planting years before. Green eyes softened marginally at the sight; they appeared to have been tended to, though they really were quite easy to nurture, wild things that they are. England thought about cutting some later, considering that it was late in the year. They would grow back come spring. His thoughtful, melancholy gaze traveled across the home as he carefully dismounted. His heart clenched and warmed with nostalgia. He noticed the previous shipment of boxes and trunks that were sent out earlier, currently being carried in by a heavy-built servant. Another man sent by the other to see to the fresh arrival of trunks in the fresh cart, greeted Arthur. The man, like most of the others here, was excruciatingly formal. The Englishman relayed strict instructions on where these particular belongings were to be placed before noticing that the housekeeper came from the home. She seemed a bit frazzled, probably feeling unprepared for his arrival, no doubt. Arthur immediately waved off her most likely hour-long report of everything that had happened during his elongated absence as he approaches the structure; he only has eyes for one at the moment. The worry lines in his face smoothed and his lips relaxed into an unusual, small smile as he reached the doorframe, looking about the room and large corridor. Rare longing flooded him and he could almost feel the eagerness of his pulse. [/style]

[STYLE=font-variant: small-caps; letter-spacing: -1px;]template by falkyrin of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home It was correct to assume that Alfred remained unaware that Arthur was coming to visit him. He might have the physical appearance of a six year old, as well as the mentality, but he also had more experience than most six-year-olds did, having been around for over a century. He knew enough to observe that England rarely stopped by for visits during this time of year. It was a long journey across that vast expanse of water, and it was getting cold out. Arthur rarely made his journeys to visit Alfred during the winter, for the simple fact that the waters were more treacherous during this time of year. A month had passed since he received Arthur's last letter, and Alfred was getting impatient. Per usual, his impatience turned into various spots of misbehavior. Alfred was a mischievous little boy with an adventurous streak at the best of times, but he always acted out more when he hadn't heard from Arthur in a while. It was nothing against Arthur, honestly - At this point in Alfred's life, Arthur was the epitome of perfect. In truth, if one were to ask Alfred why he acted out, he wouldn't be able to provide an answer. He didn't know why he did what he did, he just...did it. An observer, though, might conclude that such actions were a cry for attention - They wouldn't be far off on that note. Alfred consistently wished that Arthur was around more, or that he'd take Arthur on the adventures that he'd write to him about. They were censored, yes, but Alfred had no idea. He just knew that he eagerly awaited every letter that England sent him. He loved the tales about explorers, but even more, he loved the stories about the stars. He caught himself looking up at the stars almost every night with wonder. He wanted to go up there to get a closer look! He'd tried climbing the tallest tree on the property once, only to discover that he was hardly any closer to the sky than before! One of his tutors, catching him at the top of the tree, asked him what in the world he was doing, and he responded with laughter as he pointed up at the sky. "Trying to touch the stars!" Though Alfred didn't expect much, it was hard not to get his hopes up. England was gone so much! Was it wrong for Alfred to hope for more time with his big brother? Sometimes he didn't mind. When the tutors weren't busy with him, he often found other ways to entertain himself. On one such occasion he'd found a nice, fat raccoon and placed it in the housekeeper's bed just before she settled down for the night. The amusement was still worth it, even if England did give him a huge scolding for the incident (as well as a pay raise to the housekeeper, though Alfred remained unaware of this). Still, he missed his big brother. He understood that Arthur was busy, but why couldn't Alfred go with him? He was always told that he had to stay back in the colonies. Such comments from the elder were usually met with a pout, but ultimately a dropping of the subject. Alfred didn't want to argue with Arthur. Not at this point, at any rate... Speaking of the colonies, Alfred thought back to a rather peculiar conversation he'd overheard a few days prior. England always told him it wasn't a nice thing to listen in to other people's conversations, but he'd heard his name! Not Alfred, no. His other name, America. The two men talking were calling the colonies themselves America, and kept referring to the colonies as belonging to England, but not like England was a person - Like England was a place. It confused Alfred. Then again, a lot of things confused Alfred. He was at the age where he could make observations that he hadn't made prior. He knew he and Arthur were different than the other people he'd met. Other people grew old. He and Arthur didn't. Alfred barely aged more than a few years in the time since he'd met Arthur. He wondered if maybe the conversation he'd heard had something to do with that? He'd never know unless he asked, would he? England was nowhere around to ask, though. Alfred was sulking around in one of the spare rooms, playing absentmindedly with a funny hat that he'd found in England's room. The housekeeper watched him with a smile on his face, before a surprised look came across her face. "Is that...no, it couldn't be, surely he would have written..." Alfred looked up from his play at this. Who was the housekeeper talking about? By the time Alfred peeked around the corner, the woman had already gone outside, and Alfred remained where he stood, looking toward the door. He shoved the hat on his head while he waited. Sure enough, after a few moments, the telltale sign of the doorknob twisting alerted Alfred that the housekeeper would be joining him again shortly. But it wasn't the housekeeper that he saw standing in the door frame once the door swung open - It was England. "ARTHUR!" Alfred called out in delight before running up and throwing his arms around his big brother for a tight embrace (though not too tight - Alfred knew that he shouldn't hug Arthur as tight as he really could, because he was strong enough to lift a buffalo, and Arthur was a lot smaller than a buffalo - he might squish Arthur!). "I missed you, England! I didn't know you were coming, or I would have met you! You didn't get lost on the way here, did you? Did you bring anything back for me?" Alfred bounced on his toes as he awaited a response. He had a lot of other questions, but first things first - England needed to know how much Alfred missed him! [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 1048 words for Arthur. November 1689. Be prepared for a lot of questions, Arthur! =P [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony NOTES: x) It had been years and already England could see the change. Everything had a bit more age to it. Everything grew, whittled away slowly, and eventually decayed. Nations were the exception, although not as much of an exception as some may think. They too, changed, just in different ways. Their bodies reformed with the times or changed in accordance to the fluctuations with their people. Even now, Arthur could see that America had grown. Although he was still far from being ‘too old’ for seemingly childish intrigue, the older nation could already see the subtle changes. His limbs were a little longer and he swore that the roundness of his face was just a tad bit less round—but still plenty childlike, he quickly reiterated before the melancholy crept in. Alfred echoed back the same feeling that he had been receiving since arriving. The weary, well-earned strength of his people and youthful energy that gave way something to be inspired by. His heart glowed with pride and something else that was far warmer, yet somehow also far more muddled. His heart jumped when he heard his name and felt two small arms snugly around him, barely able to reach his waist. His elation quickly turned into a frown, however; as he looked down at the top of America’s head—well, looking down a particular, funny hat. Where had he gotten that? England silently cursed himself for being so careless, leaving things in the home. The very place that he definitely did not want to bring in reminders of the life that he wished to keep outside of America’s awareness. With deft nonchalance—or as much as he could muster anyway—he slipped the hat off Alfred’s head and hung it on the edge of a nearby chair before ruffling the child’s golden head of hair. Fairly sure that they were alone for the time being, he relaxed a bit. It had been too long. “Come here, you,” Arthur said before gathering the still very hold-able and huggable Alfred into his arms to give him a proper embrace. Alfred smelled crisp and fresh (and yes, a little bit dirty) like the outdoors and perhaps also a hint of the musk from being occasionally stuffed indoors by his instructors. He smiled into the boy’s hair, knowing that he was probably using as much restraint as he could, considering how damned strong the lad was. England tried to reserved himself, but ended up squeezing back just as tightly. Before meeting America, he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever touched him with affection, let alone draw him into an embrace. Even now, the only hugs he ever received were from America. And he welcomed them like a starved creature, savouring the pooling of warmth that it brought. He pressed his mouth briefly atop the boy’s head (just so, to make the action less obvious, of course) and squeezed him once more before setting him back down, wary that the boy might start fidgeting if he held him for too long. As per usual, a torrent of words came from Alfred without a second to spare. Amusement bubbled within as he watched Alfred practically bouncing as he spoke. “I missed you too, Alfred,” he said. More than anything. “And, no, of course I didn’t get lost. I know the layout well enough.” His gaze connecting with Alfred’s too-bright eyes. I’m sorry I can’t be here more. I’m sorry I always leave. He leaves the bitter taste of those words far from his mind. He wanted to be with America at the moment, not dwell on the regrets—even the small ones surrounding the boy before him plagued Arthur often enough. “Don’t I always?” he smiled, answering his last question. “I daresay, Alfred, you certainly have grown, young sir,” he spoke with mild, playful astonishment. Of course he had grown. It had been a while since they had last been in each other’s company. “So, I’m sure you already know what some of your gifts are,” Arthur said, an entertained corner of his mouth rose marginally. Every visit, England supplied him with clothes made from the finest tailors in London (although most of them may have to be fitted once more), alongside the usual purchases of shoes and stockings. He usually requested the play-clothes to be made with sturdier cloth, as America obviously wore those through the quickest. Aside from the practical gifts, he couldn’t help but indulge a bit, whether it be buying from toymakers or collecting exotic trinkets from his latest raids or extended explorations. He was about to speak again, but was discreetly interrupted by the men carrying in the packages and trunks. Eyeing the correct ones with a bit of tenseness, he designated them to his room, knowing that he would have to find a suitable hiding place until he could muster enough time to deal with them. The rest of the packages, much more numerous and innocent (containing said gifts), were left in the room. While the brief flourish of activity was ongoing, the housekeep had set out the customary tea for travelling guests—hot and strong, good for days like this. England settled himself on a thinly upholstered settee, peeling off his ivory coloured gloves, his hands still numb from travel and his eyes adoring and soft upon his colony. Arthur was only ever like this with him. ”What sort of report am I to expect from your tutors? Please tell me you’re not being too difficult with them.” Again, his voice was somewhat teasing. Not quite serious. He tried to hide his small smile of amusement as he warmed his dry, cold fingers against hot porcelain. [/style]

[STYLE=font-variant: small-caps; letter-spacing: -1px;]template by falkyrin of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Even Alfred could tell that he was aging a little. He wasn't as acutely aware of it as Arthur, but he could tell that his clothes were getting tighter as of late (the clothes that he hadn't ruined already in his play). Oh yes, Alfred had a habit of tearing through his play clothes. Nothing was off limits when it came to Alfred's adventures. He climbed trees, went swimming, wandered off into the woods, rolled around in the mud...any adventure that he desired! The only piece missing was more children to play with. Occasionally, he'd play with children in the colonies, but none of his playmates ever lasted more than a couple of years owing to the way he aged. In addition, Alfred constantly had to watch his strength around other children. He couldn't play rough with them. Even a harmless tackle from Alfred could seriously injure a regular child. Alfred frowned as Arthur removed the hat from his head with nary a comment. He didn't know what he was hoping for, but he was hoping that his big brother would at least say something about it! His disappointment was quickly forgotten, however, when England scooped him up into a hug. A huge smile swept across the colony's face when Arthur assured him that he'd missed him too. That almost made up for the fact that he was gone so much! Almost. But none of that mattered at this particular moment, for he was there now. "Good, don't get lost. Then it would take you even longer to come here!" Alfred spoke with childish innocence, not realizing how much of a punch those words might pack to the older nation. Alfred was just stating a fact as he saw it - England wasn't around much, and the last thing he wanted was for England to visit even less because he ended up lost! Alfred bounced even more when Arthur confirmed that he'd come bearing gifts. For someone who would be easily excitable even as a man, it was no wonder that he was an excitable child as well. Then Arthur acknowledged that he'd grown, and Alfred's chest puffed out a little at this. He then proceeded to stand on his tiptoes. "I'm getting big! Someday I'll be as big as you!" He beamed at these words, again not realizing that he was touching on a subject that was fretting England somewhat. "Clothes?! But those aren't fun!" The colony pouted, in typical childish fashion. He was happy that England was bringing him gifts, but he was hoping there would be toys amongst the bunch. Belatedly remembering to use his manners as his tutors taught him (hopefully England would be really proud of this...and surprised too!), Alfred spoke again. "Thank you, England." He thought about what England said. "You said only some of my gifts are clothes...what else did you get me?" Alfred bounced on his toes again, clearly impatient, though not all of that unbridled energy was impatience. Some of it was pure excitement at the fact that his big brother was there to visit. It was a rare treat, especially when it came so unexpectedly! His eyes widened and his mouth formed into an O shape as he watched men carry numerous boxes inside of the house. Maybe that meant England was staying for a while? The chances were slim, especially given Arthur's past track record, but Alfred still could not help but hold out hope. Funny that Arthur would start to turn up more when Alfred didn't actually want him around anymore... Alfred grinned sheepishly. "I've been a good boy." And he had, for the most part. He could be mischievous at times, but more often than not his mischief was harmless. "I didn't put a raccoon in Mary's bed this time!" Even the raccoon was meant to be harmless - It wasn't like Alfred expected the raccoon to try to bite the housekeeper. It behaved just fine while he was carrying it. Of course, he hadn't taken into consideration the fact that the raccoon might feel threatened by a large woman nearly laying on top of it, and was only trying to defend itself. Wait...England asked about his tutors, hadn't he? "I read through my primer all by myself!" Alfred stated, clearly proud of himself for such an outstanding accomplishment. It had taken him a while to do it, but given how often Arthur was away, Alfred had plenty of time to practice while he was gone. He still had trouble with a couple of the larger words, but he was certainly mainly progress! As much as Arthur wanted to hear about him, Alfred wanted to hear about what Arthur was up to as well. Sure, there were letters, but it was always a lot better hearing the stories in person! "Where did you go, Arthur? To see your boss again? That's an awful long way to go to see your boss. Why can't he come here?" Alfred didn't realize how ridiculous such a request was, because he was too young to understand the full implications. Having never been out of the colonies, Alfred couldn't fathom just how large the ocean separating the continents actually was. He also didn't understand that he was essentially asking the King of England to take up a permanent residence in His Majesty's colonies... That did remind Alfred of another subject circulating in his head. "England?" Alfred asked in his most serious tone since Arthur arrived, oddly hushed for a boy who usually had to be told repeatedly to use his inside voice. "I heard people saying my name a few days ago. Not my Alfred name, but my secret name, the one we don't use around anyone else. I thought they were talking about me, but they were talking about the colonies. The colonies are named America too! Isn't that neat?" Big blue eyes filled with wonder looked up at Arthur as he waited for his big brother's response to this and everything else. [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 1041 words for Arthur. November 1689. I feel like I should call this post 'Kids Say the Darndest Things - The Alfred Edition'. XD [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony NOTES: Hah, it’s hard not to love awkward questions. To say that Arthur was relieved that Alfred hadn’t raised a fuss over the removal of the hat was an understatement. He was careful to keep his self-accusing eyes from straying toward that blasted hat, still lounging carefully in the corner of the room. Hopefully it would stay forgotten and later properly disposed of. Arthur didn’t need things like that in the house. Relinquishing power from that Spanish bastard nearly a century ago was the start of something big. Something that he hadn’t expected to consume so much of his time, but it was the current reality and he was loving every second of it. However, he also wanted to keep that part of existence as separate as he could from the one he kept with Alfred. England’s lips had tightened briefly at Alfred’s innocent quip. The fact that it was simply an observation hurt more than any cutting remark would have. He swallowed. “Yes, we can’t have that now, can we?” he said quietly, more to himself than to Alfred. The sadness was somewhat forgotten upon seeing the boy’s reaction to the acknowledgement of his growth. Of course he would be proud over something that was natural for any nation. The genuine smile returned, seeing Alfred’s display of childlike pride over his growth. He silently wondered how much this would bleed into adulthood. Even though it was a bit sad seeing his colony grow so quickly, he couldn’t help but also feel the warmth of pride for the boy surface. “Of course you will, love. You shall grow big and strong to protect the things most important to you.” At least, England hoped that his reasons for America’s yearning for growth were something along those lines. As a child nation, England had very different motivations for wanting to grow. Motivations that he hoped would never touch upon Alfred’s mind. Despite not being there as often as he wanted to be, Arthur was determined to give Alfred a childhood that far exceeded the painful existence that he had gone through at that age. The vast majority of nations were robbed of carefree childhoods. Arthur hid a small smile at Alfred’s disdain over the notion of receiving clothes. “I know that they’re not as exciting, but they are practical. I will not have you dressing like a pauper.” Of course if England were to really have his way, America would always be clothed a bit nicer than what was normally proper for a colony. Hearing Alfred’s ‘thank you’, Arthur’s lips quirked into a pleased smile. Brushing his fingers through Alfred’s hair once more, he praised him softly, “Very good, America.” Watching Alfred’s silent reaction to the luggage being brought, England relented, answering the unspoken question hanging in the air between them that neither usually liked to bring up. This time, however; England felt less trepidation with approaching the subject. ”I’ve a bit of good news for you. I’ll be spending most of the winter here. It would seem that I have some business to attend to, so I’ve been given leave for it—” He paused, grinning slightly. “—which brings me to those other unopened packages. Let’s just say that there were some new additions to the toy shop’s collection this season.” And Arthur had chosen only the best for him, he might add. Arthur blinked when Alfred mentioned the raccoon that he had slipped into Miss Mary’s bed sometime before the last visit and how he hadn’t done it again. “That’s…commendable,” he tried his hardest to sound half as serious as he should be about the matter, but it now that the event had gone and past, Arthur couldn’t help but to feel more amused than upset over the remembered antic. His smile grew wider at Alfred’s clear attempt to impress him with what he had accomplished. “The entire primer? Well, that is quite impressive.” To be honest, Arthur was a bit surprised that Alfred seemed to be a bit more well behaved than before and (if there was no exaggeration involved) seemed to be doing quite well in his studies. Unbeknownst to America, he had been receiving letters, as per request, from the tutors as well as his primary caretaker. Still, it was somehow more satisfying hearing it from Alfred and seeing the display of pride when he told Arthur. Affectionate warmth bloomed in his chest and a little more of the hardness melted away from England’s visage. In his existence, the boy was the only one who had successfully wormed his way past the nation’s best efforts to never let another heart touch his—assuming that he had one, of course, something that the large handful of others might contest to. Somehow after all those years, all it took was one small, persistent child to slip his way under the wire. Arthur’s thoughts were broken when he heard Alfred’s string of inquiries about where he had been. Good Lord, how to put this? What to leave out… and what to include… “Eh—yes. I have seen him. Quite frequently, actually,” Arthur pause briefly, averting his gaze in thought. How to say this? “…and sometimes, he sends me to other places in the world that also requires my presence. I’m sure you understand that there are a lot of responsibilities for an empire—in order to keep everything secure and efficient.” When Alfred mentioned bringing His Majesty to the colony, Arthur couldn’t help a small laugh, the light in his eyes dancing with amusement. It passed quickly and he was serious once more, though the smile hadn’t faded. “Of course he can’t, Alfred. He must stay exactly where he is. The King has many responsibilities and one of them is being where he is most needed,” he explained, hoping that the vagueness made enough sense. Taking some time to drink a bit of the hot liquid from his cup, he relished the warm, calming aroma before continuing. “And yes—it does take quite some time to make the crossing as well.” A familiar fire returned to the nation’s eyes whenever he spoke of his freshly acquired seat of maritime power. “It’s fantastic, Alfred… The sea is far larger, more magnificent and lovely than anything that can ever be read in books or heard in stories. It’s nothing that can be commanded; it’s as dangerous and wild as any tempest.” And it was far more exhilarating to own, he silently added, a hidden smirk touching his lips. England’s attention was caught next by the very un-Alfred-like tone of voice in his next question. It was soft and serious. The older nation remained silent for a bit after hearing him—had he heard him correctly? It was times such as these that Arthur wondered what exactly went on in the boy’s head… Either way, he had a feeling that this was going to be a long conversation… With a gentle sigh, he set down his tea and motioned for Alfred to sit next to him on the settee. A small stretch of silence followed and his gaze connected with those too wide, too blue eyes. “Alfred—have you ever wondered why you and I don’t… age the same way as others?” Arthur felt warmth dust his cheeks. God, this was awkward. [/style]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Whether the hat would lay forgotten or not remained to be seen. Alfred was easy to distract, but one glance over at that hat again could bring the questions surging back into his mind. It was hard to tell, but as long as that hat was still where Alfred could see it, Arthur wasn't completely out of danger yet. However, the subject was pushed aside for now, as the conversation between nation and colony continued. Alfred failed to recognize how upset his remark made England, and thus simply responded as he would to any other question, by shaking his head fervently. "No, we can't!" He was clearly unaware that the question posed by Arthur was more rhetorical in nature. Alfred beamed as Arthur showed recognition of his growth once more. He had several reasons for wanting to grow. The largest, though? He wanted his big brother to be proud of him. He wanted to prove that he could be just as big and just as strong. At the older nation's implication that he didn't want Alfred to look like a pauper, the colony proceeded to pout exaggeratedly. "But new clothes are always so stiff..." Though the feeling never lasted for long. Alfred would break in his clothes quickly, usually during play (and he didn't always just play in his play clothes either). Besides, his pout quickly dissolved when he saw the approving smile on England's face. Alfred could hardly contain his excitement when Arthur announced that he would be staying for the winter. When Arthur announced that the remaining crates contained toys? Well, that sent Alfred over the edge! He threw his arms around Arthur, this time embracing him with more gusto. He didn't stop to think that the aftereffects of such a hug would likely leave England sore that night. He was still young, and though he could keep a good handle on his strength when he tried, he was too excited to put much care into it. Toys and England staying most of the winter? It was as if Christmas had come extra early! Admittedly, Alfred was exaggerating slightly on the primer announcement, albeit only slightly. He had read most of the primer on his own, though he still needed assistance on a few words from his instructors. Still, he'd heard them talking about moving him up to the next level, so he must have been doing something right! Realizing that he was still gripping England, Alfred quickly moved away, eying the boxes in the room with a certain eagerness in his expression. His eyes darted back when Arthur began to explain where he went. So only part of his time was spent with his boss? He bit down on his lip as Arthur explained that he needed to be in other places. He wasn't aware that Arthur likely had other 'little brothers' (and little sisters) to care for. He wasn't aware of Arthur's pirate activities. He wasn't aware of much of anything that didn't happen on his own shores. He just knew that Arthur had a lot of responsibilities that didn't involve him, and, admittedly, it made him feel a little jealous and left out. Alfred's brow furrowed. "But why can't he? If he came here, you could spend a lot more time here! Wouldn't that be great?" Alfred's view of the world was still rather narrow, and he didn't understand the implications of what he was saying. His childish mind couldn't understand that it wasn't as simple as doing something like that. In fact, he thought he was making a rather clever suggestion, suggesting that the king relocate to the colonies permanently! Alfred's blue eyes went wide as Arthur described the seas. "Is that really what they're like? Can you take me with you some time?" He wanted to see these grand seas that Arthur described. At this subject, Alfred's eyes flitted upward. "What about the skies? Has anyone been there? What about the moon and the stars?" Alfred spoke about the skies, and space, in much the same tone as Arthur spoke about the sea. There was a note of awe and respect, but also a deep-seated determination. "If not, I wanna be the first." Alfred climbed on to the settee next to Arthur at his motion. He looked up at England again, tilting his head. If Arthur was asking him to sit down, he had a feeling this was something big. Unfortunately, Arthur's next words only left Alfred feeling that much more confused. "I have, England. I wonder that all the time. But what does that have to do with anything?" Was he going to have two of his questions answered at once? "What makes us different?" [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 815 words for Arthur. November 1689. That was a fast response. XD [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony NOTES: Heh, back at you x) He supposed that it must have been the combined announcement of both the toys and his extended stay in the colonies, for before he could be properly warned, Alfred wrapped him in his strong, little arms around him with much more enthusiasm than he did before. Arthur cringed behind it, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. It’s not every day that he receives these hugs from the boy and he cherished them—pain and all. He knew that the time would come when Alfred would grow to be too old for them. With as much enthusiasm as he could, he held him, smiling into Alfred’s hair, hiding the slight grimace. When he was finally released from the vice-like grip, Arthur took in a well-earned breath, glad that Alfred’s eyes were currently distracted by the boxes in the room and not on his mentor gathering his wits about him. Alfred was so easily distracted… Arthur had always viewed that as a blessing more than a curse. It was easy to divert his attention when it needed to be diverted, but then again, it was also hard to keep him focused on one thing at a time… or even one thing at all. Arthur noticed Alfred’s expression when he briefly explained the other responsibilities that he had overseas. It was true that Arthur had other colonies to attend to, to visit, and to do business with. Although he viewed them all as vital and shared some of the same affection with the younger ones that he did with Alfred, he still viewed Alfred a bit differently. He was the youngest, practically an infant really, upon discovery. And that meant something significant to the older nation. However, Arthur knew unhappiness when he saw it. It pricked him. Especially seeing it manifest, even if it was only mild, on Alfred. ”Are you alright, love?” He inquired just to be sure. Who could ignore a face like that? Arthur’s eyes looked on in mild surprise at Alfred’s indignation over his idea that the King should permanently move to the colonies just so that Arthur could be closer to him. No one had ever raised such a bother (aside from Alfred in the past) about Arthur’s absence before. He couldn’t remember anyone that had ever missed him, much less wanted to be near him. He usually assumed that no sane nation ever wanted to be close to irritable, unlovable, daunting England. It was a strange feeling and Arthur had never really felt the weight of it until now. His face warmed slightly and he averted his gaze, the unfamiliar feeling lingering like a fog. Composing himself, he finally replied. ”Yes, it would, America. It would be wonderful to spend more time with you. Truly—“ England’s small grin turned a tad bit wry, “—your company is far more preferable to the ones that I’m forced to do business with. I would rather be with you, but, your place is here and my place is there.” His thoughts briefly drifted to the disgusting amount of political and economic intrigue he would have to return to by winter’s end. Well, at least being with America in the much calmer environment would do his nerves some good. A great hesitation came over Arthur when Alfred asked if he could come along. “Well—perhaps when you’re a bit older,” was the first halfway decent reply that came from Arthur’s thoughts and through his mouth. He didn’t want to see the boy’s disappointment after a blatantly refusal, but he also couldn’t just flippantly agree to it. God, sometimes he hated being the staunch guardian. Arthur was currently fairly young in his development with the appearance of an older adolescent, so he more than understood the need to gallivant, to explore, and to go well beyond his own borders. Arthur blinked at Alfred’s reference to the skies. ”… No. No one has accomplished that…” The Englishman wasn’t sure what to think of the declaration. Of course it was completely ludicrous—something that only a child could dream up, he supposed. But still—traveling to the moon and stars? Nonsense. Arthur pondered how to best answer Alfred’s inquiry about what they are. This was—well, really strange. He couldn’t remember ever having to explain the concept before. It wasn’t as if any of them really knew where or ]i]how

[/i] they came into being. They just were—almost like the sea that Arthur spoke so passionately about or Alfred with his stars. After a moment longer, Arthur decided to keep it brief instead of going into a long tirade of thoughts and information that would most likely only foster confusion. ”Alfred… the reason why you share the same name with the colonies is because you are the same. Just as I am England, you are America. We represent the land as well as its people. We’re not… like other people.” That wasn’t sufficient, he knew, but Arthur couldn’t think of a way to put it without sounding stupid. Although, it probably did end up sounding stupid either way. He braced himself for Alfred’s response.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home The colony remained unaware of just how hard he was squeezing Arthur, or the impact that it was having. He knew he was strong, stronger than anyone he'd ever met (even Arthur), but he didn't quite have a handle on just how strong he actually was compared to everyone else. He didn't realize that no one, not even Arthur, could lift a buffalo as easily as he did (or at all, really). He knew full well that he was different, but at least some of his differences he shared with Arthur and others. He didn't know the others that well, but he heard about them occasionally, usually from his big brother. Arthur asked him if he was alright, and Alfred gave a small nod. "I am. I just miss you sometimes." Alfred wrapped his arms around England once again, this time not squeezing so hard. There would come a time where Alfred didn't need this, where he'd be pushing Arthur away instead of pulling him closer, but he was still a child, and as such, he needed his role model, his parental figure. Arthur was the closest thing Alfred had to one. Alfred grinned as Arthur began by agreeing with him. "See? You can just talk to the King and ask him to come here, and then you could stay with me all the ti..." The words caught in his throat at England finished what he had to say. "Oh." The disappointment in Alfred's voice was unmistakable. It felt nice to know that England wanted to spend more time with him, but it was still a let down. Arthur wasn't budging on the issue, and it left Alfred feeling immensely frustrated. Here he thought he'd come up with such a clever idea too! As it turned out, the vague non answer that Arthur presented Alfred with was the best option, for Alfred's profoundly disappointed expression turned into one of delight. "Really? How much older?" The hopeful tone was back in his voice, it was clear that this was far better than a complete let down...and certainly better than full out agreeing to it as well. He hadn't guaranteed it, after all, he'd only said 'perhaps', but Alfred knew that 'perhaps' was not synonymous with 'no' Alfred was also pleased to hear that no one had gone to the moon or stars yet. "Then I'll be the first!" He reiterated in a tone of complete confidence. "I want to go up there England. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'll find a way!" He spoke with childish curiosity and wonder...and yet that determination was ever present in his voice, as if daring anyone to tell him that he couldn't. If they did, he'd prove them wrong! The explanation Arthur gave for just how he and Alfred were different left Alfred's eyes as wide as saucers, and his mouth hanging open. For once, the blond boy was left at a complete loss for words. He leaned back in his seat, blinking a few times. Finally, after a moment or so of silence, Alfred spoke up once again, in an incredulous voice. "I am the colonies?" It was an explanation that would be hard for an adult man to wrap his head around, let alone a child. At the same time, though, the fact that Alfred was a child would work to his advantage as well. While an adult might protest such a thing as outrageous, and require a lot more convincing, Alfred was a child who was still remarkably open-minded about such things. Besides, it was true - They weren't like other people at all. Alfred noticed that long before he posed the question to Arthur. "Is that why I feel connected to all of them?" Alfred piped up suddenly. "All the people here, I mean. I feel...I feel like I wanna protect them, like they're family or something. Do you feel like that with people back home too?" While one of his questions was answered, Alfred had so many more popping up in it's place. He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to ask them all, but as long as England was there, he was certainly going to try! [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 732 words for Arthur. November 1689. I feel like my responses are getting steadily shorter... [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: I did some interesting, but sad research for this one... And I don't think it's getting that much shorter. It varies only about a paragraph, give or take. (: . . . Arthur couldn’t help feeling a bit more pleased upon hearing Alfred say that he had missed him. Just being with Alfred and sharing small conversations with him that weren’t through ink and paper correspondences lifted his spirits a little at a time out of the grimy ditch that it tended to sink into upon returning to Europe. Of course, there truly was nothing better than being on his own soil, to actually feel it welcome him in a soft, unspoken way, but there were always the filth-infested political games that he would have to play and wager on once more. Everything was so intricate and upon closer inspection—corrupt. Here, even despite feeling the smallest sense of invasiveness when stepping on foreign soil, everything was much clearer. He was taken aback by the surprise hug, but was quick to accept it greedily. He twisted his arms around Alfred, and laughing gently into the boy’s hair, he spoke, “You never tire of this, do you?” And truth be told, Arthur never wanted Alfred to tire of them. Arthur knew that it was fruitless to worry over the unavoidable aspects of life. Of course he knew that Alfred was going to grow up. Nothing was going to change that. Of course Alfred was going to get older… and may eventually want nothing to do with him, but the prospect of that still hurt. And if the idea was already hurting at this point in time, Arthur wasn’t sure if he could ever be prepared for whenever it does happen. With somber effort, Arthur tried to push those shaded feelings away and to focus more on Alfred as he was right now. Nothing was going to change their relationship in the meantime and he didn’t want to miss a second of Alfred’s childhood by continually distressing over the future. Now was their time to simply enjoy being in each other’s presence. Hearing the obvious disappointment in Alfred’s voice when Arthur shot down his fantastical plan of obliging His Majesty to transfer to the colonies, Arthur gave him a little squeeze about the shoulders. It was a small echo of their hug from before as Alfred was still in close distance from where Arthur was sitting—an unspoken apology. He pulled Alfred closer so that they could see each other’s expressions at eye-level. ”Well, it does sound like a grand idea.” He paused, giving an almost conspiratorial smile, as if about to share a profound secret meant just for the two of them. ”If it’s any consolation—out of all my travels and adventures, coming here to see you is my absolute favourite. You’re the most important.” It seemed that it didn’t take much to brighten Alfred’s gaze once again, for the mere mention of possibly bringing him along with him seemed to delight him more than anything else. Arthur felt a tad bit guilty for bringing his hopes up. Sometimes, during his long trips away, he forgot how excitable Alfred could get over these topics. It’s not that he wouldn’t bring Alfred or say ‘no, absolutely not’ to the offer, but he just wasn’t completely sure if it could happen. At the very most, he could possibly take Alfred back home for a little while. But that was a big ’if.’ It wasn’t too common for nations to bring their colonies along while simultaneously doing business… although it has happened before at the occasional world meeting, if only to boast of their good fortune to the others, to showcase them like jewels, nothing but extensions of themselves. And although Arthur has been guilty of that in the past with other colonies, he knew that he couldn’t do that to little Alfred. Thinking quickly, he responded, “Hm, when you’re taller. How about when the top of your head reaches my shoulders?” A mild smile touched his lips. Light amusement filled Arthur at Alfred’s voice when he declared that he would find a way venture into the skies. Well… at least it’s good for a child to have aspirations and dreams, Arthur thought… even if they are incredibly lofty. ”If you’re that determined, then I’m sure you will, America,” he said with the beginnings of a faint smile. ”Just promise me one thing… When you touch the moon—” his tone was lighthearted, but secretly still playfully teasing. ”—look down from it and wave at me like you do when you see me from the harbour.” He playfully ran fingers through Alfred’s hair, still amused and somewhat pleased with Alfred’s stalwart determination—a trait that he furtively admired in others. England’s smile grew before he added,”But then, of course, you’ll have to write to me straightaway and tell me what it felt like.” When Arthur gave the very brief explanation to Alfred’s questions, he watched rather nervously as the boy grew speechless. Alfred speechless…? That was a first. Arthur remained silent while Alfred seemed to be mentally digesting his words. When Alfred did start speaking again, it was abrupt. Now the questions were going to start pouring in, no doubt. ”Yes, of course. We all have a strong connection with our people. We feel what they’re going through most of the time, such as famine or plague…” Arthur searched his brain for an example. A particularly morbid one came to mind and he continued gently. ”Do you remember when there was an outbreak of throat distemper thirty years ago – remember all those children?* Arthur became quiet, allowing Alfred to put the rest of the comprehensive pieces together. . . . *an old name for scarlet fever and diphtheria (also known as the ‘strangling angel of children.’) One of the worst epidemics in the Bay Colony was in 1659. The majority of the deaths were children. ): [/style]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Alfred shook his head fervently, a large grin spreading across his face. "Nope!" Why would he? It wasn't as though he had the chance to hug England often, what with him gone so much. Why not try to get in as many hugs as he possibly could before his big brother had to leave again? "What's it like, at your home?" As much as Alfred wanted Arthur to consider this his home, he knew that wasn't the case. Arthur never did say much about his home, and Alfred was curious if it was similar or different. Oh how he wished Arthur would take him with him one of these days! The corners of Alfred's mouth twitched upward when Arthur praised his idea. The next words brought out a full fledged smile. Arthur's favorite part of his travels was coming to see Alfred? "I like it when you come too." Alfred admitted. "I like Mary and the instructors and everyone else, but they always get f-f-fusterated a lot easier than you do." The colony struggled with the word 'frustrated', noticeably mispronouncing it, but it was to be expected - He was still young in body and mind, after all, even if he was older in actuality than any of the humans in the building. Upon hearing Arthur's response to his question, Alfred peered upward at Arthur's shoulder, standing on his tiptoes in an attempt to make himself seem taller. Even then, he barely reached Arthur's chest. He had a feeling it would be a while before he'd be up to his big brother's shoulders. Alfred smiled at Arthur's vote of confidence. "I will. I'll make sure everyone knows I'm going there, but I'll let you know first! Then you'll know to watch for me just like I watch for you when your ship comes!" He proceeded to nod to the second part of England's response. "I will. I bet it'll feel great. Kinda like jumping out of a tree, only without hitting the ground afterward." He couldn't think of any other way to describe it, so he might as well describe it as the closest thing he knew at this point to flying. The blond boy stayed with his back against the settee, but this time pulled his legs up close to him, resting his chin on his knees as he thought about ages. He knew that the housekeeper and his instructors thought he was six years old, and that he wasn't supposed to correct them on that. He didn't even need England to tell him that one! He could still remember being taken in by a family and running away as he heard them talking behind his back about how queer it was that he was not growing like other boys. He didn't have to worry about that with Arthur, since Arthur was the same way. "How old are you?" Alfred asked the older nation suddenly. Alfred, at his physical and mental maturity of six, was not the best at math, but he knew he'd been around longer than most of the humans around him had been. So if he'd been around longer than the housekeepers and tutors, and he was so small, how long had England been around? Alfred was relieved to hear that his connection with the colonists was normal, and was actually to be expected. Arthur's next words unfortunately confused Alfred, simply because they were unfamiliar. Arthur was correct to assume that he would need to use an example to bring home his point, and a good example it was too. The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That was when I was really sick, wasn't it? I heard you call it that." It wasn't a pleasant memory for the young colony at all. His own symptoms were bad enough, but occasionally, when his fever would spike, he wouldn't just see himself, but other children suffering from the same illness. Not all of them made it like he did either. "The housekeeper then didn't know why I got sick when I never played with any of the other sick kids. I was sick because the other kids were sick, wasn't I?" He blinked, another question coming up to the forefront of his mind. "There's others like us too, isn't there? Like France and Spain..." [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 755 words for Arthur. November 1689. So many questions. =P [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: Bittersweet fluffy can be so fluffy. X3 . . . Arthur smiled at Alfred’s response. He knew that there would come a time when Alfred would be too old for hugs, as he might have been already too old for kisses. But he did try to sneak some every now and then. Apparently they were both trying to get in as many hugs as they could—for Alfred, before Arthur left once more, and for Arthur, before Alfred began to spurn them. He paused when Alfred asked him about his home. ”Well, that depends on where you are in it. Most of it is still quite rural— but there it’s quiet and peaceful. More like here. But once you reach London, it’s different. There’s half a million people in the city alone. A large number of them are migrants. Can you imagine?” He paused, smiling a little at Alfred, wondering if he could. “Aside from that, the city’s large, it smells terrible, it rains quite a bit—but the docks are always lively and there’s never a dull moment... But it is home all the same.” Good Lord, was Alfred trying to be endearing? Arthur laughed softly at the display as he brought the boy closer, briefly brushing his lips against Alfred's forehead. It didn’t linger for long, for they quirked into a smile as he mumbled so softly, so seriously, ”That’s because I love you.” No matter how true it had become over the years, it was still difficult for Arthur to say it, to show vulnerability like that. He felt exposed. Nothing good ever came from loving someone—for Arthur there was only ever pain in the end for allowing that sort of weakness. And these same feelings rushed through him for every rare moment that he had ever admitted to loving someone—a twisted, painful sort of warmth. Arthur watched Alfred trying to appear taller than he was. He toyed with the same thought from before, deeply considering it. ”If you’re interested, perhaps I could bring you to my home. Only once, though, before this infamous growth spurt of yours. Mayhap in a year or two.” Arthur grinned, starting to like the idea the more he thought of it. Perhaps Alfred wasn’t too small to start seeing at least a glimpse of the world outside of his own. “Good. I’d like that,” Arthur spoke in response to Alfred’s assurance that he would be the first to know of his accomplishments—whatever they may be. Listening to Alfred’s description of what he imagined that it would be like, he blinked. Where did he get these ideas from? Arthur waited as Alfred was silent and was caught a little off guard by Alfred’s question about his age. God—that was debatable, one of many questions that unfortunately didn’t have a simple answer. Arthur thought about it for a moment, his nostalgia blending with the remembered loneliness, aches, and desires of his childhood. ” I don’t think any of us know exactly when we appeared. My earliest memories are unclear, but I suppose we theoretically start counting our age when we first receive our name. In that instance—“ Arthur paused, doing quick numbers since the year that he had been unified as a nation, “—almost nine centuries.” Uneasy colour entered his cheeks at the admission, for he could barely pass for seventeen at best appearance-wise. “Yes, that was when you were sick…” Arthur recalled it during his visit. It hadn’t been a pleasant time for either of them. Alfred for his pain and Arthur for watching him endure it. It was probably one of the one first breakouts of petulance in a future string of many that Alfred would probably have to go through. Arthur had been through far too many and even though he knew that the boy would eventually just have to belt up and face them, he couldn’t help trying to offer the little nation some form of comfort for his first serious one. Another occurrence almost worse than sickness was famine—never being able to satisfy the physical pain of starvation, even if the nations themselves had just eaten. It held little difference. “That’s right. You’re a smart lad.” Arthur commended as Alfred figured it out for himself, a bittersweet smile marking his countenance. Arthur’s expression tightened at the mention of the others, more specifically the two nations aside from himself who were far more present in the New World than any of the others. ”Yes there are many, many others like us, Alfred. And you have to be careful around them. Especially with how small you are at the moment.” . . . [/style]

[STYLE=font-variant: small-caps; letter-spacing: -1px;]template by falkyrin of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Alfred listened as Arthur explained his home. It was a tall order that Alfred was presenting him with, considering Alfred had yet to leave his own land, but to his credit Arthur was doing a fair job of explaining things nonetheless. Those big blue eyes widened at the number Arthur provided him with. "Half a million? How do that many people fit in one city?" Such a large number was almost impossible for Alfred to fathom at this point. In the future, he'd have a city with almost 9 million people in it, but with a current population in the colonies of only a few hundred thousands, Arthur had just presented him with a number that he was struggling to make sense of. Especially when his largest cities definitely could not fit that many people (at least, yet). There was one word in Arthur's explanation that puzzled Alfred, and in his usual fashion, he saw fit to inquire about it. "What are migrants?" Alfred beamed at Arthur's next words. They were words that he rarely heard, and therefore words that he craved. He never heard any of the workers say that they loved him. Most of them liked him, yes, found him endearing, but his big brother was the only one who told him that he loved him. "I love you too." Alfred put his short little arms around Arthur, pulling him into yet another hug. "You could? That would be great, England!" Alfred squeezed tighter, still careful not to let his full strength loose. While his physical strength was not at the level that it would be when he was older, controlling his strength was something that Alfred had to learn. Now, it came almost naturally to hold back the right amount of strength, but when he was younger he would often catch himself breaking things by applying too much strength to them. Conversely, especially after breaking things, Alfred would sometimes hold back on his strength too much and find that he could not lift things at the current strength he was letting out. It was hard to find a balance, but now that Alfred found it in his current physical form, he was finding it easier to cope with. It was refreshing to hear that Arthur's start sounded as confusing as his own. Everything was so confusing before he met England! He still thought back to his first somewhat clear memories, with the Jones family, who took him in for a couple of years before they realized how odd he was and he ran away. Did England get taken in by a family like that too? He very nearly posed the question, but it died on his lips as Arthur responded with an estimate of how old he was. Alfred's eyes widened to perhaps their largest size yet in this conversation (which was saying something), and his mouth hung slightly open as he stared. "Nine centuries? That's a really long time, isn't it? No wonder you're so big! How long have I been around?" Alfred had some idea - Four or five generations - but at his age he still struggled with the concept of just how long that was. He did know that it wasn't as long as England was around, though! Alfred matched Arthur's bittersweet smile when Arthur confirmed his suspicions. The older nation's next words made Alfred wonder. "Why do I have to be careful around them? France seemed nice when I first met him, though I know you don't like him much." He was still largely naive of the way nations interacted with one another, considering Arthur usually did the interacting on his behalf. Most of what he knew about the others came from what England told him, and from the brief periods he'd met them before England adopted him as his 'little brother'. Though one other thing caught Alfred's attention in Arthur's statements. The remark on his size. "I may be small now, but one day I'm gonna be as big as you!" Alfred stated this cheerfully, completely unaware at this point in time of what would need to be done in the not so far future in order for him to grow as he wanted to. All he knew was that he wanted to grow up to be big and strong, just like England! [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 742 words for Arthur. November 1689. It really can, can't it? [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: Yes... I couldn't help myself. . . . The world was changing quickly. Arthur remembered when his people struggled to keep any semblance of population. Even now, while London was considered one of the largest cities in Europe— the first ‘world city’ it was called. Currently, it was a growing metropolis dominated by young men and women in their teens and twenties, while the children and elderly populations were the common targets for disease. Given that, it wasn’t an explosion of population, but it the inflection of migrants helped. Arthur pondered for a bit, knowing full well that Alfred would struggle with the number he had given him. At least he seemed to understand the magnitude. Especially for this up and coming century. ”The actual city continues to grow as well. But it does get very crowded,” he answered. Arthur’s attention perked at Alfred’s question about migrants. How to say this as simply as possible? ”They’re people who travel from other places to live in yours,” he replied, internally pleased with the distant thought. It was part of why he was doing so well. All the regions that made up the British Isles were well represented by self-conscious communities of migrants. Groups that England could think of at the top of his head were those associated with Yorkshire, Scotland, and Ireland. There were also Huguenot refugees from France, the Sephardic Jews, some sparse communities from Poland and Germany were settled around Whitechapel and Petticoat Lane. The Irish were currently dominating the area around St Giles in the Fields, which would later be known as ‘Little Dublin.’ It seemed that they had something in common. Not really. But at the moment it felt like it. Arthur smiled, his heart twisting just a little hearing the admission back. No one ever said that they loved him. Hell, none hardly even liked him. Part of that was well deserved, though. England was just as capable of great cruelty as any other nation in the world and practised it often. Sometimes Arthur did wonder why Alfred chose him. He was a boy that loved sunlight, loved the stars, loved the brightness. What room did he really have in his heart for grey fog and damp hills—for little islands perched at the edge of civilisation? Arthur felt Alfred squeeze just a bit tighter into the hug with his response. The older nation peered softly down at him, caressing his hair affectionately. ”Only if you want to. It will be quite different from here, but if you’re up for a little adventure, I’ll take you.” Just… not to anything even resembling his usual business. England pondered what Alfred would be doing while he performed the unavoidable parts of work. It’s not as if he could just leave the boy alone in his home. Well, he could… but Alfred was quick to bore when left alone. And boredom usually bred mischief from Arthur’s personal experience. And that probably wasn’t ideal in a large city. And what—with that French bastard slinking about without warning during this time—no, Arthur didn’t want Alfred anywhere near him above all. Deep down, he almost wished that the boy knew of no other place save their shared home in the colonies, and knew of no one, other than himself. It sent a rush of pleasure through Arthur knowing that Alfred was his and his alone. England was a little relieved that America seemed to accept the confusing bit about their origins. Sometimes he wondered about the boy’s story prior to meeting him, but was a bit unsure about asking. He suspected that Alfred’s memory was as dodgy as his own before his countrymen had been somewhat unified—even if they were more tribal than anything at that point. Arthur felt a little humoured at Alfred’s wide-eyed expression when he told him his tentative age. ”Yes, it’s a very, very long time…” His smile faded slightly at the thought. Age was something to be embraced by nations. But for some it came with the heavy price of weary knowledge—encompassing the wonderful and horrible workings of everything around them. Even now, seeing that bittersweet smile on Alfred’s face was just another reminder of having that innocence slowly chipped away. Soon after, Arthur knew that it would just be one experience after another for him. Until one felt as barren and used as the world around them—with nothing left to lose or give. He broke away from his cynicism for a while when Alfred asked why he should be careful around the others. Arthur was more than aware that Alfred was simply unknowing of their ways and how they frequently handled themselves. With that being said, his inquiry was innocent enough. However, England’s face darkened for a moment at the mention of France and the memories that came with him. ”Of course he was nice. He was nice to me as well when I first met him. With our kind, being nice has little to do with being sincere, Alfred.” His expression became rigid and his voice a bit quiet and level, trying his damned hardest to sound neutral about the topic; no matter how much his hard words contradicted the ‘well-mannered’ tone. Arthur’s gaze softened at Alfred’s declaration to grow as big as him someday. ”I know you will,” Arthur grinned, poorly hidden pride shining through. Sure, he owned plenty—others like India who were the glittering pride of the English Crown, but Alfred was at the epicenter of his heart. He pulled the boy closer until he was seated comfortably on his lap, holding him tightly. ”Hmm. You may grow up,” he said with mock solemnity, as if giving permission, all the while hiding his playful smile in Alfred’s soft hair as he continued to murmur. ”But do take your time. I still like being able to hold you.” . . . [/style]

[STYLE=font-variant: small-caps; letter-spacing: -1px;]template by falkyrin of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #00262A; border-left: 2px solid #00262A; border-right: 10px solid #00262A; border-bottom: 10px solid #00262A;] welcome back home Alfred listened with interest as Arthur continued to explain London. "So it gets bigger because more people live there?" He supposed that made sense. He wondered if any of his cities could be like that. Little did he realize that in the future, he'd have cities larger than Arthur's. Next, he struggled to understand the concept of migrants. "Isn't that sorta what everyone who keeps coming here is?" It seemed a similar concept to the young colony, though he did not have much to go on. The blond grinned. Adventure? There was a word near and dear to his heart. He loved adventure! Of course he would be up for "a little adventure", as England so aptly put it. Adventure was his middle naem! ...actually, Alfred didn't have a middle name at this point, but that little detail could easily be overlooked... Arthur would find it impossible to keep Alfred from the rest of the world. It was in Alfred's nature to be curious about the world around him. He might be able to distract the boy, as you could any child, but Alfred had a certain determination that could not be ignored. If Alfred dreamed of doing something, he usually found a way to do it. He did have limitations, but he tried his best to override those limitations whenever and wherever he could. He hated the idea of being held down. This would prove to be problematic to a certain brotherly relationship later on... Alfred could still scarcely imagine living to be that old. He knew that even now, in his childish form, he'd been around longer than any human he'd met, but nine hundred years? Even with his limited knowledge of larger numbers, he knew that was an extremely long time. He wondered if he would live that long. He also wondered when England started to get big, and if it would take him as long as it took England. There were so many questions that Alfred had for Arthur, he hardly knew what to do with himself. Realizing that Arthur had yet to answer his prior question, Alfred proceeded to ask it again. "How long have I been around?" Now, Arthur would only be able to give an estimate (not that Alfred took that into consideration), but it was better than nothing! The cheek to cheek grin that Alfred sported transformed to a look of confusion at the island nation's next words. For all of Arthur's efforts, Alfred could hear the distaste practically oozing from his big brother's voice as he spoke of France. Not knowing the tumultuous history the two had with each other, and the grudges they held for it, Alfred was missing a large piece of the story, hence his confusion. And it seemed an awful lot like England didn't want to tell him the full story. Then England distracted him with his vote of confidence, telling him how he knew he would grow as big as Arthur one day, and the bright smile returned to his face. The colony did not protest as the older nation pulled him into his lap, though he did squirm a little at having his movements restricted. Alfred tilted his head to the right at the word 'may', a few stray locks of blond hair falling into his face as he did so, but smiled at his next words. "I'll try. But you won't be able to hold me forever." And as much as he enjoyed being in Arthur's arms, safe and sound, he also looked forward to the day when he would be able to make his own way. Once again, Alfred stated his words innocently, not realizing just how much of an impact they would come to have. [style=width: 120px; height: 120px; text-align: center; background: #EDEDED; color: 000000; font-size: 12; float: left;] 639 words for Arthur. November 1689. That last paragraph... XD [/style]

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[atrb=cellspacing,4,true][atrb=cellpadding,5px,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,400,true][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/Vrs56.png); border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; border: 5px solid #222222;][STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: -20px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=border: 3px solid #363636; background-image: url(http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/pirate2.png); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; margin-top: -25px; margin-right: 5px; float: right;] [/style] [STYLE=font-family: georgia;; font-size: 26px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center; color: #a8a8a8;]— if the stars were mine,[/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-variant: small-caps; font-size: 10px; text-shadow: 2px 2px 0px #000000; color: #a8a8a8; text-align: center; border-left: 2px solid #cccccc; border-right: 2px solid #cccccc; border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; width: 170px;]i’d give them all to you i’d pluck them down right from the sky and leave it only blue[/style] [STYLE=margin-top: 5px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/8GyR8.png); opacity: 0.6; color: #222222; padding: 8px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0px 0px 0px 30px; font-family: calibri; border-left: 3px solid #363636;]TAG: Alfred SETTING: Norfolk County, Massachusetts Bay Colony TIME: November 1689 NOTES: I know. Just--just. XD . . . ”Precisely. You need to build more to accommodate more people.” He paused when Alfred asked a little more about migrants. Something was starting to pester at the back of the older nation’s mind with the gradual depth that came with some of these simple questions. He quickly ignored the hollow discomfort. Alfred was inquisitive and he was still very young. It was only natural for him to be curious. ”Sort of, yes,” he answered, purposefully keeping his answer simpler this time. Why did he even bring that up in the first place? Arthur mentally chastised himself, reminding that he needed to be a bit more careful about what the things he mentioned in the future. Alfred needn’t concern himself about these things, surely. A small shadow passed through Arthur’s thoughts, knowing deep down that he really couldn’t keep Alfred from his natural curiosity. Out of all his colonies, he was easily the least acquiescent. There was something about him that he secretly knew he couldn’t keep within his reach for long. That seemed to be his lot in life. For all those nine hundred years that he had been a nation, nothing good ever remained. Everything was fleeting. Little did Arthur know at the time, Alfred really was his ‘gold’ that could never stay. Not the same rubbish that he snatched from Spain, but something precious and new. As nature’s first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Arthur thought back on his first encounter with the then tiny nation. ”I’ve known you for eighty-two years now, Alfred… beyond that, I’m not sure how long you’ve really been around, but most of us start counting our years after we receive our name.” Seeing the look of confusion on Alfred’s face did make Arthur feel a tad bit guilty, but for the most part it couldn’t be helped. Arthur harboured many, many things from his past—the majority of them unpleasant. He was a marred, tainted canvas. Most of which he would rather not repeat to anyone if he could help it. Least of all to his colony—one that he wanted to keep from the darker aspects of the world. Unfortunately for him, instead of fading with time, these memories were only bound to chafe slowly at his mind and welfare. When he felt the squirming, Arthur softened his hold over Alfred, but didn’t let go. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against the side of Alfred’s head as if in apology, all with a relaxed smile. He was never like this with anyone. Even in his centuries long past, he rarely ever grew this level of comfort with another. Empires don’t have weaknesses. So, he was always careful to never be this openly affectionate when others were present. He had to be strong and unparalleled, because the only other option for him was to be weak. And in his experience, he always got hurt whenever he was weak. Arthur’s eyes connected with Alfred’s; fingers running through his hair, messing it up a little before he corrected it. He took his time, a preoccupied sort of happiness resting upon his face. He leaned in closer, holding him closer much like he used to when he was much smaller and pressed his dry, warm mouth against Alfred’s right temple briefly. He liked feeling something warm in his arms, something to protect and love—a luxury that he never had. Hearing his words, though he involuntarily gripped him a little firmer before quickly softening his hold once more. ”Right,” his agreement felt forced. ”Nothing’s forever.” There was a small pause and Arthur was quick to calm that familiar tightening in his chest. ”You have me for the evening. I promise—no work.” he said with a small smile. He’d tried to get most of his accounts settled in Boston before seeing Alfred. He had two main reasons for getting that done before seeing his colony, one of which was to leave more time for him. ”We have a little bit of time before dinner…” A corner of his mouth rose slightly with the silent proposal. There are a number of things that they enjoy doing together, but he usually let Alfred dictate their free time. . . . [/style]

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