While You Were Gone [Arthur]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,120,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background-color: #eaeaea; margin-top: -20px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px;][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-top: 15px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-bottom: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background-color: #cdcdcd; width: 100px; height: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=font-family: courier new; font-size: 8px; color: #333333; opacity: 0.6; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; padding: 6px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px;]" With words I've been betrayed, you respond and let them fade, and I just won't let you bring me down. You can see what I know and I know somewhere there's a sorry heart. "[/style] [STYLE=width: 50px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2e4yed0.jpg) repeat; width: 80px; height: 220px; padding: 6px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #333333; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.6; overflow: auto;]Takes place in early 1770. January or February. Look up what happened in March 1770 and you'll see why it can't be later than that just yet. XD[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/DfhFz.png);][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 55px; background-color: #f1f1f1; padding: 8px; text-align: right; font-family: courier new; font-size: 11px; color: #616161; line-spacing: -6px;]LIAR, LIAR, DON'T CRY ON MY SHOULDER, YOU PLAYED WITH FIRE — christina grimmie     [/style][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 440px; opacity: 0.6; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #4b4a4a; text-align: justify; padding: 8px; margin-top: 5px; overflow: auto;]Dear Arthur, I heard you're coming over soon. I also heard news that you're going to repeal the taxes on glass, lead, and paper. Is this true? If so, that's great! Why not tea, though? That part confuses me a tad. I requested that you take away ALL of the taxes, at least until we discussed the matter in more detail. I apologize. That wasn't a very nice way to start off a letter, was it? Why I'm really writing is that I happen to have a surprise for you when you arrive. I think you'll be quite pleased! Look forward to seeing you soon, Alfred Jon F. Jones The blond, per usual, had difficulties writing the letter. It was sloppy, and his latest 'instructor' had informed him that his writing looked terrible. Alfred scowled, tempted to talk back but biting his tongue. He'd never mastered writing with his right hand, what did they expect? Even after all their efforts to condition him, it never felt natural. Alfred did get his revenge though. When the man was temporarily distracted, Alfred quickly switched the quill to his left hand and signed, a small smile coming across his face. He switched the quill back to his right hand before the man even looked back, the man looking at the paper in surprise. He squinted a little. Alfred inhaled. "Well, at least you learned your signature. I suppose it's not a total loss." Alfred exhaled, shooting a glare at the man when his head was turned once more. Well, that was a pleasant insult. ------------------------------------ "Do I have to wear this?" A few months passed. Alfred was given word that Arthur received his letter and was making his way across the Atlantic, and today was the day that they were expecting Arthur to turn up. As such, Alfred was expected to dress up for the occasion. Just because it was expected, though, didn't necessarily mean that Alfred wanted to do it. "Yes. It is important that you look your very best for Mister Kirkland's visit." "...he's my brother. He's seen me in my pajamas." Really, it wasn't the dressing up that Alfred minded, it was the fact that he was being forced to do so. The little colony exited his room, making it clear by his actions that he did not want to be wearing this ensemble. Another thing that was clear just by glancing at Alfred - He was no longer, in any way, a little colony. Alfred now stood at least a foot taller than the height he was when Arthur last saw him. In human years, this would be relatively regular growth. In terms of what Alfred and Arthur were? Alfred might have very well experienced the fastest growth spurt of any personification. He'd grown at a near human rate, aging one physical year for every two years that passed. He seemed to have stabilized recently at a physical age of thirteen or fourteen, though a tall one to be sure. He stood at a height of 5'3". His voice was no longer as high as Arthur once remembered, though not quite as deep as it would become. Instead, it was somewhere in the middle. Alfred was excited. He'd been waiting for this for so long, and it was finally happening! He couldn't wait for Arthur to see. He was finally getting big, just like he'd talked about when he was younger! It was about that point when he heard movement at the door. All of the tensions between then temporarily forgotten in his excitement, Alfred opened the door and threw his arms around the older nation standing there. "Hello England!" He squeezed tightly, though tried to be careful not to be too tight. However, his growth spurts made it hard to tell how hard was too hard at the moment...he had yet to readjust for his current body size. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,439,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, margin-top: -10px;][STYLE=background-color: #eaeaea; padding: 6px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px; border-bottom: #cdcdcd solid 1px] [/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #545454; text-align: right; padding: 2px; margin-right: 10px;]— made by ayu of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100%,true][atrb=cellPadding,10px,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0px,true][atrb=background,http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/dd_zpsc59bccda.png] [style=font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 0 8; text-align: center; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]memories fade ,[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 2 8 8 8; color: #a18682; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; font-family: times; text-align: center; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px;] LIKE LOOKING THROUGH A FOGGED MIRROR[/style] [style=font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; font-style: italic; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 16 0 0; text-align: right; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-top: 4px solid #332522;]decisions to decisions are made[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10.5px; text-align: justify; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522;]Arthur kept the letter, but didn’t write back, as he was scheduled to leave soon after receiving it, rendering the sending of a response pointless. He was surprisingly sentimental with Alfred’s letters… or rather, anything that Alfred gave him. Most of them remained hidden away in their own compartment (and in much later times would be stacked in a small box, collecting dust, in storage), carefully kept apart from his usual mountain of work. Anyone who knew him at this point probably would need to see viable proof that the empire was truly a sentimental, fragmented fool beneath the cold exterior. Even few would believe that he actually had the ability to smile… and had been doing that a lot more in the past century, albeit in private whenever young Alfred was in his company. A part of him was tentatively terrified of the idea that he actually cared deeply for someone. Allowing himself to love someone was usually an omen for the island nation. Nothing ever ended well for him—why should this be any different? England wondered if he was an idiot for thinking that anything could be different for him. Terse thoughts like these matched the poor weather on his crossing. Unlike the other letters that he immediately stored for safekeeping, he kept a hold of Alfred’s latest message in his pocket, often unfolding the creased parchment against the faint glow of candlelight at night to catch a glimpse of Alfred’s familiar scrawl. To the older nation, it served the same purpose as an image—a reminder that kindled his growing nostalgia and secret longing. Little did he know, he would be doing just that in the distant future with his heart a bit more calloused and damaged than before. He tried to ignore the scant traces within the letter that sent distant forewarnings through his mind. He was seasoned enough to feel them and to be honest, he never was a stranger to them, as he tended to other colonies as well. Of course the King eventually repealed the taxes that ushered in subsequent boycotting. It was hurting him economically and the unrest was disturbing. The outrage five years prior and the organised attacks against on the customhouses and homes of tax collectors within the colonies was enough to draw his attention from other worldly diversions—namely making ends meet after expelling the French bastard from North America, as well as parts of Africa, India, and the West Indies. He wasn’t naïve to believe that former French colonists would suddenly embrace British rule. In lieu of this, England truly believed that it was in America's best interest to have the protection of his men to keep order. Other colonies in other parts of the world needed defence against his enemies, so he was quick to believe that America would need it as well. Unfortunately, keeping said defence required money, of which he was somewhat drained after the Seven Years War… Another stumble in the future series of conflicts. . . . The trip otherwise hadn’t been eventful aside from the weather. Trivial things that like hardly daunted the older nation anymore. Reaching the harbour was even more of a bore, but he still couldn’t shake the intrusive feeling of stepping onto extraneous soil—that feeling had never completely dissipated since his first arrival well over a hundred years ago. At the moment, he was only more aware of it now that there were underlying tensions. Arthur tried his best to swallow his strained wariness as he arranged the usual accommodations for the last leg of his trip. Arthur was certainly not prepared for the ‘surprise’ that Alfred had alluded to in his letter. The moment he made his way through his charge’s doorstep, he felt an immediate pair of strong arms squeeze him… not around his waist like he expected… but his torso. His slightly widened eyes noticed the familiar mop of dark blond hair barely grazing his chin as a much changed, yet still achingly familiar voice greeted him. His breath felt shortened and he stood rigid for a moment, unmoving, absorbing the revelation that his little one wasn’t so little anymore. His insides felt like they were shaking slightly as uncertainties addled his mind. There was a weight in his stomach—sticky and warm. It was unpleasant. Arthur had enough mind to return the embrace, dropping the package that he held, one hand going to the top of Alfred’s head, briefly, somewhat sadly running fingers through his hair as he usually did. He attempted to gather himself enough to react somewhat normally, though couldn’t escape the thought that it felt… a bit unnatural. Not when their kind normally took centuries to grow like that… ”A-America?” he barely managed not to choke on his words. How eloquent… But he stopped there. He wasn’t sure what to say at the moment—like being plunged into a dark room and grasping for something steady and familiar to regain his footing. His hand slipped from the back of Alfred’s head to his shoulder as he returned the embrace a bit tighter. After a moment, he eased back to get a better view of the near-adolescent looking colony. [/style] [style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]tagged , america. words , 870. notes , hurr. finally. ;D credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge.[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,120,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background-color: #eaeaea; margin-top: -20px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px;][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-top: 15px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-bottom: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background-color: #cdcdcd; width: 100px; height: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=font-family: courier new; font-size: 8px; color: #333333; opacity: 0.6; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; padding: 6px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px;]" With words I've been betrayed, you respond and let them fade, and I just won't let you bring me down. You can see what I know and I know somewhere there's a sorry heart. "[/style] [STYLE=width: 50px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2e4yed0.jpg) repeat; width: 80px; height: 220px; padding: 6px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #333333; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.6; overflow: auto;]Yeaaaah I picked a different template. Thought this one fit better. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/DfhFz.png);][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 55px; background-color: #f1f1f1; padding: 8px; text-align: right; font-family: courier new; font-size: 11px; color: #616161; line-spacing: -6px;]LIAR, LIAR, DON'T CRY ON MY SHOULDER, YOU PLAYED WITH FIRE — christina grimmie     [/style][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 440px; opacity: 0.6; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #4b4a4a; text-align: justify; padding: 8px; margin-top: 5px; overflow: auto;]Alfred was admittedly a tad upset that Arthur hadn't sent him a response back. He was used to Arthur being busy, and was sure that would be the older nation's excuse, but that didn't mean that it didn't bother him nonetheless. It made him feel as though Arthur did not take enough stock in the letter to fashion a response. Really, how long did it take to write up a letter in the first place? Arthur's response to his growth would improve matters, though, he assured himself! He pulled away after embracing his brother for a moment or so, a large smile on his face as he gestured down at himself. "England, look at how much I've grown since you last visited!" The excitement was evident in his voice, an excitement that he expected Arthur to share. The last thing he wanted to see was the expression Arthur actually wore. Alfred wasn't even sure what to make of the expression, but it wasn't the positive reaction that Alfred was hoping for. Alfred could feel his own smile drop slightly at this sight. Huh, so the surprise he had for Arthur wasn't so well received after all. It felt like a punch in the gut. Alfred never was particularly fond of awkward silences, and thus when he sensed one coming on he went with his usual standby of making conversation.The problem? Arthur's reaction seemed to bring all of the tensions between the nation and colony back to the surface. Instead of smoothing things over, what Alfred said next would likely make the air in the room even more thick. "You didn't write me back to tell me when you were coming," He murmured, not accusingly but not in the most friendly tone either. Disappointment. He spoke with disappointment. It was a tone that, prior to this, he rarely took with Arthur. Sure, the older nation had disappointed him in the past, but it was usually childish disappointment, an 'aww' followed by a quick remedy. There was something distinct about the tone he took with Arthur now - something deeper. Alfred viewed matters differently than Arthur. Arthur thought that his troops' presence ensured protection. Protection from what, though? He'd never needed protection before, and surely, with Francis having less influence in the nearby area than before the war, he didn't need it now of all times. So why were the troops needed? Alfred cleared his throat."That reminds me...the tea tax. I thought you were going to remove it until we could actually discuss the matter? My people aren't happy about it and neither am I, so why? I'm old enough to discuss these things with you now." The word 'why' was frequent in any of Alfred and Arthur's conversations, but again, his tone was noticeably different. It wasn't a simple request, it was spoken as a demand. While the boy did not look mutinous, as he might in the near future, there was a surefire hint of something brewing within those blue eyes; they held a questioning gaze that would no longer be sated by vague explanations. A spark of rebellion. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,439,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, margin-top: -10px;][STYLE=background-color: #eaeaea; padding: 6px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px; border-bottom: #cdcdcd solid 1px] [/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #545454; text-align: right; padding: 2px; margin-right: 10px;]— made by ayu of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100%,true][atrb=cellPadding,10px,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0px,true][atrb=background,http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/dd_zpsc59bccda.png] [style=font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 0 8; text-align: center; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]memories fade ,[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 2 8 8 8; color: #a18682; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; font-family: times; text-align: center; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px;] LIKE LOOKING THROUGH A FOGGED MIRROR[/style] [style=font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; font-style: italic; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 16 0 0; text-align: right; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-top: 4px solid #332522;]decisions to decisions are made[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10.5px; text-align: justify; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522;]Arthur’s eyes followed as Alfred gestured down at himself. Yes… he had grown. It was difficult trying to suppress the surprise and the slight edge of disbelief that this was happening. Even with Alfred’s weakened smile with Arthur’s less than enthused reaction, he couldn’t break free from the surreal nature of the moment. He wasn’t exactl prepared for this. Before now, Arthur was never one for surprises, even if they were of the pleasant sort, so having one in the form of a young adolescent-looking colony was certainly a disagreeable one. Arthur wasn’t even aware of the silence that stretched between them. His hands retreated from the colony after touching the side of Alfred's face once more to scrutinise the dramatic difference. His gaze refocused and he felt a slight, painful twist at his heart with the way that Alfred was currently looking at him. Arthur refused to show it, though, and only forced a trivial, mannerly expression—for those who knew him well enough (namely those across the ocean with whom he’d traded numerous diplomacies with) he was tightly guarded. Inside, he fumbled with what to feel, insecure and alarmed, but that didn’t mean that he was unprepared for those unexpected moments. He’d had far too many of those in the past… Arthur raised a brow at Alfred’s denser tone of disappointment. He was used to hearing that from Alfred, but this in particular was new. “I received your letter just before I was finished with the preparations to set sail. Your response would have been on the same ship that I took to get here.” Surely Alfred would see the logic in that. Unfortunately letters travelled slow across the Atlantic. Unexpected delays weren’t unheard of—it was something that Arthur expected more often than not whenever sending or receiving correspondence from any location that was at least an ocean away. Regardless of what Alfred thought, Arthur believed that he solely held Alfred’s best interests. Of course going about this route—which was a fairly common route that he took with other colonies—was not necessarily going to make things better in the long run. He had his reasons and he didn’t feel the need to discuss them with those whom he didn’t regard as necessary holders of information at the moment. Would he come to regret that in the future? Sometimes... Arthur’s eyes narrowed in the slightest with a disapproval that exasperated him more than he let on with Alfred’s immediate delving into certain issues. And in the form of outright demands, no less! Arthur’s lips tightened marginally as he began to peel off his gloves. Luggage was brought in behind them by servants—their faces averted from the pair. ”First of all, you will take care to not yield that tone with me,” he spoke with a certain calmness, though it didn’t do much to negate the severe deprecation barely hidden beneath his words or the hardened gaze that followed. ”Secondly, you should know better than to receive guests with demands at the doorstep.” His voice had lowered slightly as the servants passed so that only Alfred could hear his words. He took a step past the colony barely offering the housekeep a passing glance as he ordered for tea and spiced rum to be brought to the study. After the servants had left them and the luggage placed where it should be, he glanced back at America, studying him a moment longer—his expression now more neutral than disapproving. ”If you’ll follow me, lad,” That wasn’t a request, but it was the shell of one. Arthur turned without looking back to see that he was following, heading into the slightly shaded room of the study to the side. The requested items were currently being placed on the table. He approached the desk with his back to the doorway, setting aside his gloves and hat before fingering at the fastening of his collar, loosening it for comfort before working on the buttons down the front of his coat. ”Leave us,” he muttered to the servant—who did just that shortly. [/style] [style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]tagged , america. words , 656. notes , not happeh, indeed <3 credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge.[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,120,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background-color: #eaeaea; margin-top: -20px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px;][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-top: 15px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-bottom: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background-color: #cdcdcd; width: 100px; height: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=font-family: courier new; font-size: 8px; color: #333333; opacity: 0.6; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; padding: 6px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px;]" With words I've been betrayed, you respond and let them fade, and I just won't let you bring me down. You can see what I know and I know somewhere there's a sorry heart. "[/style] [STYLE=width: 50px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2e4yed0.jpg) repeat; width: 80px; height: 220px; padding: 6px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #333333; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.6; overflow: auto;]Oh teenagers. XD Especially teenaged colonies, lol. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/DfhFz.png);][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 55px; background-color: #f1f1f1; padding: 8px; text-align: right; font-family: courier new; font-size: 11px; color: #616161; line-spacing: -6px;]LIAR, LIAR, DON'T CRY ON MY SHOULDER, YOU PLAYED WITH FIRE — christina grimmie     [/style][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 440px; opacity: 0.6; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #4b4a4a; text-align: justify; padding: 8px; margin-top: 5px; overflow: auto;]Alfred was seized with an urge to pull away when he felt Arthur's hands on the side of his face. That it was a gesture of affection was the only thing that kept Alfred stationary. He disliked how the gesture reminded him of when he was much smaller. It gave the impression that Arthur still thought of him as a child, when he wanted to be regarded on a more equal standing now that he was bigger. He wasn't sure why, but the mask that Arthur put on annoyed him just as much. Alfred kept his arms folded across his chest as Arthur attempted to defend the lack of a letter. The explanation did make sense, but did little to soothe Alfred. The letter, or lack thereof, was only the tip of the iceberg of tensions building between the colony and the older nation. Alfred picked up on the faint visages of annoyance on Arthur's features, an odd sense of satisfaction rolling through him at the sight of the slightly narrowed eyes. He'd drawn a reaction out of Arthur. A small smirk slid across his own features, only to drop immediately when England began to scold him. He stiffened, his eyes immediately darting toward the ground as they would have during a scolding in the past. Alfred did feel some shame for the tone that he took with Arthur so soon. However, there was another part of Alfred that didn't think he should have to follow Arthur blindly the way he might have as a child. It wasn't as though he didn't have a voice - He was physically a teenager. That had to count for something. Something a lot more than either Alfred or Arthur realized at this point. "Well, perhaps if my demands would have been addressed in the past - Say, a reply to my letter - I might not have had to bring it up right away." The words were out of Alfred's mouth before he could stop them, not that he entirely wanted to. In reality, he was only the slightest bit upset about the letter itself. He was more upset with the fact that he was not being consulted about any of this. He knew that Arthur went ahead and made decisions for him in the past, but they were small decisions, none as demanding at these. He thought that he at least deserved some input before any decisions were made. He was relieved that the levies on glass, lead, and paper were repealed, but why not tea, as requested? Perhaps he might have accepted the reasoning had Arthur discussed it with him first. Instead, he had no say whatsoever, and he didn't feel that was right. Alfred followed Arthur to the study and to the older nation's desk, eyes flitting to the corner of the desk where a few books lay. Among them were works by Isaac Newton and Francis Bacon. At the top of the pile sat The Two Treatises of Government by John Locke. There was a bookmark halfway through the second book, indicating that someone was currently in the process of reading the volume. The colony's attention turned back to the beverages on the table, frowning a bit at the tea. "Will I be taxed for that tea too?" He muttered under his breath sarcastically before turning his attention back to Arthur. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,439,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, margin-top: -10px;][STYLE=background-color: #eaeaea; padding: 6px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px; border-bottom: #cdcdcd solid 1px] [/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #545454; text-align: right; padding: 2px; margin-right: 10px;]— made by ayu of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100%,true][atrb=cellPadding,10px,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0px,true][atrb=background,http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/dd_zpsc59bccda.png] [style=font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 0 8; text-align: center; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]memories fade ,[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 2 8 8 8; color: #a18682; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; font-family: times; text-align: center; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px;] LIKE LOOKING THROUGH A FOGGED MIRROR[/style] [style=font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; font-style: italic; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 16 0 0; text-align: right; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-top: 4px solid #332522;]decisions to decisions are made[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10.5px; text-align: justify; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522;]A sick feeling was planted deep within Arthur when he perceived Alfred’s body language—leaning away from his touch in the slightest, defiantly folding arms, and the tenseness that stilled the air. Clearly, he wasn’t the same Alfred that Arthur had left behind from his last trip across the Atlantic. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sort of change that he had been expecting… not that he had really been expecting much at all. In either case, Arthur was sorely unprepared. There was something faintly unnerving in the way that Arthur physically tensed—signs that wouldn’t really be visible, the light rise in his pulse, and the tightening deep in his gut — similar terse reactions that meant ‘a-soon-to-be abandonment’ would occur when he was young. A former reality shrouded in aged grief. Arthur prepared his cup of tea as he listened to Alfred venting about his lack of being consulted as if he were an equal. He sighed inwardly as he stirred the contents in his teacup. It didn’t really upset Arthur more than it troubled him at the moment. He could only blame himself for not being around as much to mold Alfred into the role of the expectations along with the learning of certain limitations that came with being a colony. Of course he wouldn’t know, Arthur reasoned with himself. But still… the idea that some of this sudden acidity could have been curtailed (or so he believed) left a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. ”If that was the primary aim of your correspondence with me, America, then rest assured that we shall discuss these matters.” Arthur wasn’t particularly looking forward to having to immediately delve into these topics, as unavoidable it was bound to be when he had prepared to arrive. There was the apparently silly hope for being the target of quite a different reception. The Empire’s tired eyes, desperately lined with the need for respite, briefly sought Alfred’s as he brought his tea over toward the desk. “If I had known that you would have reacted so, then I certainly would have brought some of these matters to you beforehand.” Which explained the nation's immediate withdrawal of all of the taxes (save one) in response to the colonist's initial outrage. But of course, whether they would have made any difference at all to England’s final decision was an entirely different matter. Decisions made concerning his colonies were usually never up for deliberation. It’s a wonder that Arthur was able to repeal the tax from everything else aside from the tea, just based on the strong reaction of the colonists alone, especially considering the benefits that they had procured from the previous war. A war that had England digging deep into his own pockets. His King deemed it reasonable that the colonists should pay a portion of the expense as well; easing some of the weight from England’s sturdy, yet tiring shoulders. America was not alone beneath the ‘burden of taxes,’ however. The tax statement was being issued to all of the colonies for subsequent wars and protection, as was common and something Arthur wouldn’t have normally offered a second thought. Simple procedures for simple world occurrences. Only they really weren’t so simple. The blond lightly blew over his tea, as he leaned back against the edge of the desk. His eyes trailed down toward the stack of books that appeared to have been recently read through. The smallest of pleased smiles almost reached Arthur’s mouth at the thought of Alfred actually picking up fresh books to read… until he saw the titles. Tapered fingers skimmed along the edge of the volume, particularly The Two Treatises. ”Does this interest you, Alfred?” Arthur flecked his flat gaze toward Alfred, revealing nothing, as he picked up the book; opening to where it was currently place marked. He scanned the page for a moment before resting the open book to his side. [/style] [style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]tagged , america. words , 654. notes , yes. teenagers are wonderful. =P credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge.[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,120,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background-color: #eaeaea; margin-top: -20px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px;][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-top: 15px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-bottom: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background-color: #cdcdcd; width: 100px; height: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=font-family: courier new; font-size: 8px; color: #333333; opacity: 0.6; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; padding: 6px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px;]" With words I've been betrayed, you respond and let them fade, and I just won't let you bring me down. You can see what I know and I know somewhere there's a sorry heart. "[/style] [STYLE=width: 50px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2e4yed0.jpg) repeat; width: 80px; height: 220px; padding: 6px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #333333; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.6; overflow: auto;]Feel like this could have been longer...ah well. >.<[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/DfhFz.png);][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 55px; background-color: #f1f1f1; padding: 8px; text-align: right; font-family: courier new; font-size: 11px; color: #616161; line-spacing: -6px;]LIAR, LIAR, DON'T CRY ON MY SHOULDER, YOU PLAYED WITH FIRE — christina grimmie     [/style][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 440px; opacity: 0.6; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #4b4a4a; text-align: justify; padding: 8px; margin-top: 5px; overflow: auto;]Alfred's stare softened slightly at Arthur's reassurance that they would discuss certain matters of contention. Those weren't, in fact, the only aim of Alfred's correspondence, nor even the major aim. No, he wanted to express how much he grew and pleasantly surprise England with it! Now that Alfred realized his growth did not spur such a reaction in the older nation, this meeting would no doubt take a much different turn than it might have otherwise. It was not the taxes in themselves that Alfred remained incensed about. Those were a nuisance, yes, but it was not the mere idea of his people paying taxes that annoyed him. It was the lack of a say in the matter, the expectation that Alfred and his people were to just do it with no questions asked. They weren't represented by any lawmakers, their views weren't being taken into consideration, and Alfred felt as though he wasn't being given the time of day by Arthur. Despite the ill feelings associated with the tea, Alfred took his own glass and blew on it before taking a few sips, savoring it. He'd always liked tea, from the moment Arthur first let him have a taste many years before. The question still remained as to whether or not Arthur would remove the tea tax - or at the very least give Alfred a say. When the views of himself and his people were not allowed proper representation to Arthur or Parliament, how was that right? Even now, Alfred had the sneaking suspicion that his requests would be pushed aside, brushed off as those of a child. A child that was nearing Arthur's own height. Alfred stiffened at once. Blue eyes followed Arthur as he peered at Alfred's reading material. Arthur was asking him if the books interested him? "They do," Alfred admitted, a small smile coming across his face. "Mr. Locke discusses some interesting things in his book, wouldn't you say so?" Alfred spoke innocently, but there was no denying that some ideas truly struck a chord with the colony. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,439,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, margin-top: -10px;][STYLE=background-color: #eaeaea; padding: 6px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px; border-bottom: #cdcdcd solid 1px] [/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #545454; text-align: right; padding: 2px; margin-right: 10px;]— made by ayu of btn[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,100%,true][atrb=cellPadding,10px,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0px,true][atrb=background,http://i113.photobucket.com/albums/n222/amoline/dd_zpsc59bccda.png] [style=font-size: 25px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 0 8; text-align: center; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]memories fade ,[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.8; -moz-opacity: 0.8; width: 90%; padding: 2 8 8 8; color: #a18682; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; font-family: times; text-align: center; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px;] LIKE LOOKING THROUGH A FOGGED MIRROR[/style] [style=font-size: 15px; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: times; font-style: italic; text-shadow: #372a27 1px 1px 0px; background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 16 0 0; text-align: right; color: #d5b8af; margin-bottom: 0px; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-top: 4px solid #332522;]decisions to decisions are made[/style][style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10.5px; text-align: justify; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522;]Arthur’s eyes followed Alfred discreetly as the boy poured himself a cup of tea. That reminded him—he had brought some over with him from some of his favourite shops in London, though a part of him was hesitant to say that to Alfred, as he seemed rather averse for the matters surrounding said commodity. Clearing his throat slightly, he started anyway, ”I’ve brought some of your favourites… tea I mean.” He averted his eyes briefly and a light dusting of colour shaded his cheeks, a small glimpse of that old affection peeking through his usual rigid expression. Hopefully Alfred wouldn’t have anything snide to say about that, but Arthur wasn’t really holding out otherwise. The older nation wanted to be cross as any guardian would, but it was always overshadowed by an even stronger, ever creeping sense of sadness. Another one… Another one… The ever present doubts and fears of being left behind resonated the strongest with him. He wanted to ignore them. He wanted to admonish himself for being paranoid and overly receptive, all because of what he had gone through in the past. But this was Alfred. Alfred was different… The nation had already opened himself up to him; he’d already fallen into the trap of loving him as if he were his own. Arthur hated admitting to any of this, because all that made him in the eyes of the world was weak and vulnerable. And he couldn't afford to be either. Picking up his cup once more, Arthur savoured another sip before pressing the hot rim of the porcelain against his lower lip in thought. Alfred had stiffened before him. Even the way that he had looked at him reflected naught but contempt. Arthur would be a fool to not see the signs… and yet he wasn’t sure yet which approach to take with him. He owned several colonies and this was certainly not the first time that he had ever seen discontentment, though the way that he had dealt with each wave of restlessness and rebellion had been different with each colony. But this was Alfred… surely he was an exception Arthur's usual methods… Setting down his tea once more, he rubbed at his temples, dissuading an approaching headache. The moment he noticed Alfred’s smile coming over his face at the mention of the book that Arthur had drawn attention to, the nation felt a completely irrational surge of jealousy. Alfred had yet to smile at Arthur since his arrival. For a while now, actually… His chest felt sore and a fresh wash of hot anger settled over his heart. Arthur’s lips thinned and his body felt stiff. ”Interesting, perhaps… It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said, brushing his fingertips along the spine before flipping Locke’s Trestistes shut with one finger. Green eyes locked onto Alfred’s. ”I’m listening,” he reminded him, calm and concise. ”You obviously have quite a few matters pressing on your mind that cannot wait... judging by your ill-mannered reception of me the moment I stepped through your doorstep… So, please, share your thoughts.” There was a hint of rebuke in the way that Arthur had voiced how he had been rudely received; however, despite the slight bite in his tone regarding that, Arthur was aiming for a reasonable approach. If Alfred didn’t want to be treated like a child, then he had to show Arthur that he had the capability of behaving otherwise. And at the moment, Arthur wasn’t swayed. [/style] [style=background-color: #584440; opacity: 0.7; -moz-opacity: 0.7; width: 90%; padding: 4 8 8 8; color: #b1a899; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; border-top: 4px solid #332522; border-bottom: 4px solid #332522; border-left: 4px solid #332522; border-right: 4px solid #332522;]tagged , america. words , 564. notes , arrrrrgh... you wouldn't like the title that I gave this post in my documents xP credits , post template by vitriol of on the edge.[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,120,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background-color: #eaeaea; margin-top: -20px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px;][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-top: 15px; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-bottom: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background-color: #cdcdcd; width: 100px; height: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px;][/style][STYLE=width: 100px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=font-family: courier new; font-size: 8px; color: #333333; opacity: 0.6; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 2px; padding: 6px; text-align: justify; margin-top: -8px;]" With words I've been betrayed, you respond and let them fade, and I just won't let you bring me down. You can see what I know and I know somewhere there's a sorry heart. "[/style] [STYLE=width: 50px; padding: 6px; opacity: 0.8; margin-left: 5px; margin-right: 5px; border-top: #c0c0c0 dotted 2px;] [/style][STYLE=background: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2e4yed0.jpg) repeat; width: 80px; height: 220px; padding: 6px; font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #333333; text-align: justify; opacity: 0.6; overflow: auto;]Well he asked for it now! XD[/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][atrb=vAlign, top][atrb=style, background: url(http://i.imgur.com/DfhFz.png);][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 55px; background-color: #f1f1f1; padding: 8px; text-align: right; font-family: courier new; font-size: 11px; color: #616161; line-spacing: -6px;]LIAR, LIAR, DON'T CRY ON MY SHOULDER, YOU PLAYED WITH FIRE — christina grimmie     [/style][STYLE= width: 300px; height: 440px; opacity: 0.6; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9px; color: #4b4a4a; text-align: justify; padding: 8px; margin-top: 5px; overflow: auto;]The longer Alfred sat, the more restless he felt. He also noted how much taller he'd grown in comparison to Arthur. Given the speed of his growth, it would be impossible not to take notice, but this was his first time in Arthur's presence since his growth spurt began. He realized that he was approaching Arthur's height, only a head or so shorter. "You brought tea?" Alfred asked, his tone hard to judge. Indeed, Alfred himself was trying to grapple with this news. Tea was indeed a tense subject for Alfred. He opened his mouth, about to make a remark, but seemed to decide against it at the last minute. "Thank you England," he responded reluctantly. It was a far cry from the enthusiasm Arthur was used to from Alfred's expressions of gratitude. Since seeing Arthur's own less than enthusiastic reaction to his growth spurt, Alfred wasn't altogether very enthused about Arthur's presence at all. Part of him wanted to be. Part of him wanted to temporarily set aside the points of tension and just talk with Arthur like he used to. It was too late to go back now. Perhaps it would have been different had Arthur responded to Alfred's greeting with a smile and a compliment. The fact that he had not seemed to drive the point home to both of them. Things were different now. Alfred could hardly sweep his displeasure with many of Arthur's recent acts under the rug for long anyway. Taking another drink of tea, Alfred made note of an ill-feeling expanding and settling at the pit of his stomach. - A feeling that had little to do with the tea that he was consuming. A surprised look came across his features as Arthur invited him to talk, though the tone with which Arthur spoke instantly made Alfred gnash his teeth. The likelihood of this going well for either of them was low, but Alfred accepted the invitation nonetheless. He was looking for a chance to vent, and now he had it. "You know what I'm upset about." Alfred told Arthur. "I'm happy you did away with the taxes on glass, lead, and paper. Really, I am. I'd be happier, though, if you removed the tax on tea." Though, again, it wasn't 100% the tax itself that he and his people had issues with. "We have no representation in Parliament. I don't really like that we have no say in the laws passed for me and my people." Alfred thought he was being straightforward enough in his request, but he had the sinking feeling this wouldn't end as well as he hoped. Arthur might have claimed he was listening, but Alfred had his doubts. It also did not help that Alfred's anger slipped through in his tone near the end. He took another drink from his tea, the beverage doing little to calm the storm brewing within. If anything, it only made it grow. [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,439,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=style, margin-top: -10px;][STYLE=background-color: #eaeaea; padding: 6px; border-left: #cdcdcd solid 1px; border-bottom: #cdcdcd solid 1px] [/style][STYLE=font-family: tahoma; font-size: 9px; color: #545454; text-align: right; padding: 2px; margin-right: 10px;]— made by ayu of btn[/style]