http://ahmerst.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ahmerst.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hetalia2009-08-02 05:26 pm
ahmerst.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2009-08-02 05:26 pm
Entry tags:
[Fiction] Lenient Judgment 1/2
Title: Lenient Judgment
Author/Artist: Ahmerst
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Yankee!Alfred and Lobster back!Arthur
Rating: Pg-ish, maybe PG-13. Pretty sure the second part will fall under R.
Warnings: Arthur has a gun.
Summary: With a gun pointed straight at Alfred, Arthur is suddenly stuck by the idea that his ward may just be completely and irrevocably insane. To shoot, or not to shoot?
Arthur couldn't tell you one way or the other just why he was shaking so much. On one hand, it could be due to the adrenaline streaking through his veins, filling him with an inhuman acuteness to his surroundings. Everything was magnified yet dulled at the same time, resounding blasts from surrounding muskets sounded not unlike dull roars from miles away. Yet the chirping of even a single sparrow would be so clear & vibrant he could swear it was perched atop his blood stained shoulder.
The only other plausible reason, he felt, for his shaking was much more straightforward. The gun currently gripped in his own gloved hands, tightly, so tightly it was like he was gripping hope, had its barrel pointed straight at his very own son.
Smoldering cobalt eyes looked up at Arthur's, bright against the grime covering the boy's worn face. There was a defiance to Alfred's posture, even on his knees the boy was holding his head high with pride. Unflinching as his charge could be, Arthur knew no men but those who were mad beyond help could hold their nerve if they felt a mouthful of scorching lead was in their immediate future.
Yet America did not show any sign of a waning spirit as the minutes dredged on. All around them, the opposing men were fighting blinding, tearing into friend and foe alike as lightning compounded with thunder momentarily sent the hordes into a fervent confusion. A steady torrent of rain started to pour from the heavens, stinging the faces of those on the front lines as it intermingled with gusts of frigid wind.
"You're going to surrender now, Alfred." England cut to the chase, made no pretense of trying to win America back using soft words and kind promises.
"This is exactly why I want to be free, Arthur!" Alfred's voice was terribly hoarse, only just hovering above what one would call a whisper despite the tendons England could see straining in the young man's neck, "I want to make my own decisions, not the decisions everyone else wants me to!"
At first Arthur didn't respond, as America had spoke it seemed he grew weaker with each syllable, his body shuddering with the effort of making himself heard above the surrounding din. Shades of brilliant blue where starting to mesh & dull, the will to fight onward starting to truly flicker.
"How can you expect to lead a free life when you can't even speak without withering away into a fragile child?" Arthur shifted his weight to his left foot, never lowering his rifle.
From past experiences with other rebelling people of his kind, England had often found a good tongue lashing to be one of the best ways to finally fell an opponent. He did not take into account these other 'people of his kind' had not been named America, who's eyes looked almost murky, clouded with-
With hatred.
Not hatred of being on the losing side of this battle, not the hatred of having to clash with his own brother, but a hatred of Arthur.
"If either of us are weak," Alfred lurched to his feet, strength renewed through his own rage "it could only be you. What were you planning to do when you entered this battle, berate me and wave your gun around until I decided to play nice and go home?"
The burning adrenaline suddenly turned to jarring ice in Arthur's veins. It had clicked in his head, like jammed gears suddenly being freed and sent whirling at such a violent pace it would only be a matter of time before they came undone and were sent spiraling into darkness! His colony wasn't afraid of him because he knew that England would never shoot something he raised with so much care, something he loved so dearly as his own. Was that all America saw England as now, someone who was all bark and no bite, someone to be walked all over?
Before Arthur could get too far into what Alfred thought of him, the gears came to a grinding halt before jerking into reverse, back to the last words that had been said. Casual as Sunday brunch, Alfred had referred to returning to England as going home. Deep down inside, Arthur had been fighting his own painful war of acceptance that Alfred no longer considered his home to be that of Arthur's, but with that last word it could all be for naught. Was it only a simple slip of the tongue or was it a deeper truth being revealed?
"You won't shoot me." the bite of America's words- no, his command snapped England's attention back to the present.
At the end of the battle, for America to try to turn the tables and tell England what to do was beyond taboo. Beyond any insult or injury. If this was going to end, it would be on Arthur's own terms and not that of his ward. Perhaps Alfred's mind had been warped with madness, it had been so long since Arthur had been close enough to tell now. Maybe the madness had ebbed enough today that Alfred could charge into battle, but not enough so that he could make rational decisions.
"My boy, I have started to think that you may not be in your right mind," taking a deep breath to steady not only his hands, but his voice, Arthur continued on "surrender to me. We'll take the first boat home, I'll take care of you and make sure to put you in your right mind."
Somehow this all seemed to be going horribly off course, England had vowed not to try coaxing America back under his wing. He would make America surrender and teach the boy a long deserved lesson in humility. That had been before he had really seen Alfred, though. The mental image Arthur had carried in his mind every waking moment, and even during those he spent sleeping, had been the cheery & rambunctious America.
A boy with boundless energy & spirit as free as the winds that filled England's sails on the voyage here. Lustrous hair the color of wheat, vibrant sapphire eyes that could hold a wild beast in place. Not this mockery that stood, if one would even call it that, before him.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes:
This is the first time I've ever written a fic, and also the first time I've written anything in a good deal of time so I apologize for how rusty it may be. I gladly invite any and all constructive criticism!
Part two should be up within a few days, since I don't intend for this to go for long. The whole reason I started writing this was to get it 'out of the way' while working on a much longer fic regarding Arthur & Alfred's relationship. Specifically what happened in Yorktown (Or at least, I assumed the famous GUN2FAEC scene is supposed to have happened at Yorktown).
Of course, now that I've started writing Lenient Judgement I have two other short stories I want to get out there. If they will or will not happen I can't tell you right now. I'll give an update if I do start them when I post part two of Lenient Judgment.
Author/Artist: Ahmerst
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Yankee!Alfred and Lobster back!Arthur
Rating: Pg-ish, maybe PG-13. Pretty sure the second part will fall under R.
Warnings: Arthur has a gun.
Summary: With a gun pointed straight at Alfred, Arthur is suddenly stuck by the idea that his ward may just be completely and irrevocably insane. To shoot, or not to shoot?
Arthur couldn't tell you one way or the other just why he was shaking so much. On one hand, it could be due to the adrenaline streaking through his veins, filling him with an inhuman acuteness to his surroundings. Everything was magnified yet dulled at the same time, resounding blasts from surrounding muskets sounded not unlike dull roars from miles away. Yet the chirping of even a single sparrow would be so clear & vibrant he could swear it was perched atop his blood stained shoulder.
The only other plausible reason, he felt, for his shaking was much more straightforward. The gun currently gripped in his own gloved hands, tightly, so tightly it was like he was gripping hope, had its barrel pointed straight at his very own son.
Smoldering cobalt eyes looked up at Arthur's, bright against the grime covering the boy's worn face. There was a defiance to Alfred's posture, even on his knees the boy was holding his head high with pride. Unflinching as his charge could be, Arthur knew no men but those who were mad beyond help could hold their nerve if they felt a mouthful of scorching lead was in their immediate future.
Yet America did not show any sign of a waning spirit as the minutes dredged on. All around them, the opposing men were fighting blinding, tearing into friend and foe alike as lightning compounded with thunder momentarily sent the hordes into a fervent confusion. A steady torrent of rain started to pour from the heavens, stinging the faces of those on the front lines as it intermingled with gusts of frigid wind.
"You're going to surrender now, Alfred." England cut to the chase, made no pretense of trying to win America back using soft words and kind promises.
"This is exactly why I want to be free, Arthur!" Alfred's voice was terribly hoarse, only just hovering above what one would call a whisper despite the tendons England could see straining in the young man's neck, "I want to make my own decisions, not the decisions everyone else wants me to!"
At first Arthur didn't respond, as America had spoke it seemed he grew weaker with each syllable, his body shuddering with the effort of making himself heard above the surrounding din. Shades of brilliant blue where starting to mesh & dull, the will to fight onward starting to truly flicker.
"How can you expect to lead a free life when you can't even speak without withering away into a fragile child?" Arthur shifted his weight to his left foot, never lowering his rifle.
From past experiences with other rebelling people of his kind, England had often found a good tongue lashing to be one of the best ways to finally fell an opponent. He did not take into account these other 'people of his kind' had not been named America, who's eyes looked almost murky, clouded with-
With hatred.
Not hatred of being on the losing side of this battle, not the hatred of having to clash with his own brother, but a hatred of Arthur.
"If either of us are weak," Alfred lurched to his feet, strength renewed through his own rage "it could only be you. What were you planning to do when you entered this battle, berate me and wave your gun around until I decided to play nice and go home?"
The burning adrenaline suddenly turned to jarring ice in Arthur's veins. It had clicked in his head, like jammed gears suddenly being freed and sent whirling at such a violent pace it would only be a matter of time before they came undone and were sent spiraling into darkness! His colony wasn't afraid of him because he knew that England would never shoot something he raised with so much care, something he loved so dearly as his own. Was that all America saw England as now, someone who was all bark and no bite, someone to be walked all over?
Before Arthur could get too far into what Alfred thought of him, the gears came to a grinding halt before jerking into reverse, back to the last words that had been said. Casual as Sunday brunch, Alfred had referred to returning to England as going home. Deep down inside, Arthur had been fighting his own painful war of acceptance that Alfred no longer considered his home to be that of Arthur's, but with that last word it could all be for naught. Was it only a simple slip of the tongue or was it a deeper truth being revealed?
"You won't shoot me." the bite of America's words- no, his command snapped England's attention back to the present.
At the end of the battle, for America to try to turn the tables and tell England what to do was beyond taboo. Beyond any insult or injury. If this was going to end, it would be on Arthur's own terms and not that of his ward. Perhaps Alfred's mind had been warped with madness, it had been so long since Arthur had been close enough to tell now. Maybe the madness had ebbed enough today that Alfred could charge into battle, but not enough so that he could make rational decisions.
"My boy, I have started to think that you may not be in your right mind," taking a deep breath to steady not only his hands, but his voice, Arthur continued on "surrender to me. We'll take the first boat home, I'll take care of you and make sure to put you in your right mind."
Somehow this all seemed to be going horribly off course, England had vowed not to try coaxing America back under his wing. He would make America surrender and teach the boy a long deserved lesson in humility. That had been before he had really seen Alfred, though. The mental image Arthur had carried in his mind every waking moment, and even during those he spent sleeping, had been the cheery & rambunctious America.
A boy with boundless energy & spirit as free as the winds that filled England's sails on the voyage here. Lustrous hair the color of wheat, vibrant sapphire eyes that could hold a wild beast in place. Not this mockery that stood, if one would even call it that, before him.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Notes:
This is the first time I've ever written a fic, and also the first time I've written anything in a good deal of time so I apologize for how rusty it may be. I gladly invite any and all constructive criticism!
Part two should be up within a few days, since I don't intend for this to go for long. The whole reason I started writing this was to get it 'out of the way' while working on a much longer fic regarding Arthur & Alfred's relationship. Specifically what happened in Yorktown (Or at least, I assumed the famous GUN2FAEC scene is supposed to have happened at Yorktown).
Of course, now that I've started writing Lenient Judgement I have two other short stories I want to get out there. If they will or will not happen I can't tell you right now. I'll give an update if I do start them when I post part two of Lenient Judgment.