![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hetalia17.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hetalia2010-02-13 12:49 pm
[Fic] In My Arms
Title: In My Arms
Pairing: England/Baby America
Rating: Very very hard…G. Pff, what did you think I was going to say? xD
Word Count: 2,018
Summary: England comforts Baby America during a thunderstorm.
Notes: Written for 2010 Special Relationship Sweethearts Week Prompt 3: Young Love. Inspired by the songs “In My Arms” by Plumb and “Baby Mine” from the movie “Dumbo”. (Yes, I shamelessly got inspired by the England/Baby America FST I made a while back. xD) That being said…beware the suffocatingly sweet fluff. A ton of it.
“Engwaaaand!”
England’s eyes shot open as a childish, terrified cry echoed down the hallway to his room. The shriek was followed by a crash of thunder that shook the entire house.
Well, there went my peaceful night’s sleep. He thought, though not uncaringly. It was just that he’d had so little sleep in the past few weeks, building this house for him and America to live in, that tonight, on the night when he had no worries or stresses, something like this would happen. Oh, the bitter irony.
It was recent knowledge to the Briton that his new little charge was fairly petrified of thunderstorms, especially ones as vicious as this one appeared to be. And so, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, England jumped out of bed, his flowing nightshirt brushing against his calves as he did so. He had only just jammed his feet into his slippers when another crash of thunder shook the floor beneath his feet, causing yet another scream of terror from down the hall, though this one was accompanied by a wailing cry.
“Oh, bollocks.” He muttered under his breath as he ran out of his room and down the hall towards his little colony’s bedroom. He hated it when America cried. Number one, it was always difficult to get him to stop. And number two, it tore at his heart like you wouldn’t believe. The sound of his precious brother in tears was not one that England could just say no to. With that in mind, he skidded to a stop, throwing the door open to a pitiful sight. There was tiny America, not in his bed as England would have thought, but in the furthest corner of the room from the window, curled into a fetal position, and his favorite tattered blanket tightly clenched in his hands.
At the sound of the door opening, the little blonde looked up, his sky blue eyes wide with sheer terror and brimming with tears. “En-g-g-gwand…” He stammered, his voice barely rising above a whisper. “I’m so sc-sc-scared.”
England didn’t even realize that he’d moved until he was across the room, scooping the baby Nation into his arms and holding him close. “Don’t be afraid, America. I’m here now…everything is alright now.” He cooed. He couldn’t help it. America was such a tiny thing…so sweet and cute and innocent. His cherubic face, high-pitched voice, and winning smile had captured England’s heart from the moment he’d laid eyes on him. In fact, it was fairly safe to say that his precious blonde-haired, blue-eyed colony had the great British Empire wrapped snugly around his chubby little fingers.
America sniffled, burying his head into England’s shoulder and releasing another shriek as lightning lit up his room and thunder vibrated the house around them once again. But England only held him tighter
“Baby mine, don't you cry
Baby mine, Dry your eyes
Rest your head close to my heart
Never to part, baby of mine”
The frantic whimpers quieted for a moment as America listened to England’s soothing song. His little body relaxed, and his grip on the fabric of the Briton’s nightshirt was not so tight anymore. Encouraged, England continued, singing over the rumbling of the thunderclaps and holding America’s head to his chest when the lightning flashed through the window again.
“Little one, when you play
Don't you mind what they say
Let those eyes sparkle and shine
Never a tear, baby of mine
If they knew sweet little you
They'd end up loving you too
All those same people who scold you
What they'd give just for the
right to hold you
From your head down to your toes
You're not much, goodness knows
But you're so precious to me
Sweet as can be, baby of mine”
By now the storm seemed to have weakened just a little bit, but not enough to settle America entirely. He was shivering, whimpering softly every couple of seconds, so England did the one thing he’d vowed never to do: He carried America, blanket and all, back to his room, tucking the little colony under the covers of his own bed.
Oh, don’t get him wrong, he would love nothing more than to have America sleep with him every single night, but he’d read in a parenting book recently that it was not a good habit to put into practice too often, because the child would have separation anxiety problems, not to mention it would spoil them something awful. And as often as England would have to leave to go back home for Parliament meetings and such, separation anxiety was the last thing he needed from his brother.
But considering the situation, England figured he could make an exception to the rule…just this once.
He settled into bed on the other side of America, who turned over and clung to him, still shivering. “Engwand…funderstorm is scary…” He mumbled, his eyes still wide. It was clear that this little one was not going to be falling asleep anytime soon.
England bit his lip. He had to think of something to help America calm down enough to sleep. …What about a bedtime story? It had always helped him when he was younger, so maybe it would work on America too? But…what kind of story would a colony like America be interested in?
“Wh-What if I tell you a bedtime story, America?” He asked, smiling slightly as the smaller boy grabbed his hand, holding it tight—a bit too tight really, given his massive strength—when another rumble of thunder, sounding a bit further away now than before, vibrated the still air.
Bright blue eyes lit up like a sunrise over the ocean, and the little colony nodded, his tears forgotten.
“Shall I tell you about how I met the faerie queen?” England asked, pulling America closer to him. The little boy nodded his approval, and so England began.
“Well, it was a long time ago. I was about your age, when I was travelling by myself through a deep, dark forest on my way home from town. It was going to rain soon, and I wanted to get there before it did. But as I travelled deeper into the forest, it began to grow darker and darker, until I could barely see the path ahead of me.” England animated his story by cupping his hands over America’s eyes, and the colony giggled. “It was as dark as that, America.” He said, tweaking the boy’s nose before pulling his hand away.
“What happened next, Engwand?” America asked.
England didn’t need to think for a moment. The memory was as clear as it had been all those years ago. “I kept moving, because I didn’t want to get caught in the forest after dark. There are bears and wolves and foxes in the woods, and they like to eat little boys after sunset!”
America gasped, eyes wide as dinner plates, and England smiled, leaning forward to nip at his brother’s nose teasingly. America yelped and swatted at England before laughing again. “Then what?”
“I was hurrying down the path, when all of a sudden, a soft, glowing light flitted by right in front of my face! I jumped back, but I didn’t scream. After all, grown-up boys don’t scream when faced with mysterious glowing orbs, do they?”
The other blonde shook his head vehemently. “Nu-uh! No way!” He affirmed, grinning up at England.
And so England continued. “I decided to follow that glowing orb, curious lad that I was, and so I darted off the path, into the deeper part of the forest, after the glowing orb. But it kept flying away from me! Before I knew it, it had led me right into a swampy part of the woods, and I knew it was dangerous to try to traverse it after a mere mysterious orb, but curiosity won out, and I began to jump and climb over fallen rocks and tree stumps, chasing after this flying orb of light.
“My eyes were trained on that little glow, but when it stopped, and seemed to freeze right where it was, I thought I could catch it this time, so I began to sneak up on it, very, very quietly.”
America was quiet, leaning forward eagerly to hear the rest. England stayed silent for a second, lengthening the suspense before picking up the tale again. “When I reached it, it didn’t fly away like I thought it would, and I soon discovered why. It had gotten caught in a spiderweb, and a nasty brown one was eyeing it hungrily, eager for dinner.”
Another gasp from the young colony. Satisfaction surged through England, glad that America was entertained. “On closer look, I saw that this was no ordinary orb of light. It was a faerie! Mind you, I’d never seen one up close. Only in books and as told by local storytellers, but she was real all the same, and quite beautiful…thought not as beautiful as you.” He teased, pinching his baby brother’s cheeks gently. America stuck his tongue out and rolled his big blue eyes, but didn’t try to deny it, a fact that amused England slightly.
“What did she look like?” America wanted to know.
England looked up, seeing the little faerie of which he spoke hovering above his bed, laughing silently at the sight of the two of them, and he smiled. “She has long pink hair and cheerful brown eyes, and a long flowing dress that looks like a medieval princess’s dress…all pink and quite lovely. She was so beautiful that I could only stare for a moment, and when I heard her tiny voice cry out for help, I knew I couldn’t deny this beautiful creature a chance to live. So I bravely plucked her out of the clutches of the spiderweb, and hurried her away in the palm of my hand. She told me her name was Elizabeth, and she was the queen of the faeries.”
“Wow.” The child-like wonder on America’s face touched England’s heart, made it feel warm, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Did she reward you for saving her?”
“Of course! She took me to the faerie court! Oh, America, I wish you could have seen it. It was so beautiful, with lots of little faeries flying around all over the place. They were all dressed in such lovely colors, and some of them even played music as I walked past, thanking me for saving their queen. She even named me an honorary knight in her court.”
America’s mouth dropped open, a picture of innocence and awe. “That’s so cool, Engwand! To be named a knight of the faewies!” He grinned, snuggling up against his brother again and yawning once, twice, before looking up at the bushy-browed blonde again. “Will I ever meet the faewies?”
“Of course you will, America.” England assured him with a kiss to the forehead. “But if you want to be taken to the faerie court one day, you’ll have to be a good boy and go to sleep. See, the storm has gone, and tomorrow will be a new day.”
To his surprise, America made no complaint against going back to sleep. He merely nodded sleepily, and wrapped his tiny arms around England’s chest. “Wuv you, Engwand.” He whispered breathily before closing those sweet, innocent eyes.
England could tell that America was asleep before he could even answer, and his heart warmed again. “I love you too, America…always and forever.” He placed another tender kiss to his brother’s forehead, then one to his cheek, before nuzzling into wheat-blonde hair and closing his own eyes, eager to face the adventures of another day
-End
no subject
I love Baby Mine, I have an urge to watch Dumbo now lol.
Amazing work.
no subject
(erm hi, i can comment right?)