Hetalia One-Shots

Peaceful Isolation Interrupted

         Alfred, despite everyone's opinion, was actually very studious. In his youth he was a bit of a nerd. It wasn't till after WW1 that the rambunctious, party-hard side of him came out. Sure he had always been full of energy and outgoing, but it was dialed down a bit before. Back in the day he preferred to mind his own business, farm and study. However, his (mostly, not always) peaceful lifestyle was interrupted when a certain Englishman sailed down the Ohio to the sleepy farm town in Missouri.

 Arthur was covered in dust and he wheezed a bit as he made his way up a dirt road. Why did that infernal git have to live in the middle of nowhere? He looked up to see a white farm house in the distance. He sighed in relief. Finally he had made it. After the long voyage across the ocean, the train to St. Louis, the heat, the snow, the mockery from riff-raff about his uniform. Even after all these years, Americans still didn't seem to like "red coated limey's". He wasn't even wearing his old uniform! Bloody Hell!

 Nevertheless, he made it. What could have drawn such a prideful man as him to a backwater? Well, Europe was in chaos again and this time it was too much for him or his allies to handle. He was getting old and his empire couldn't strike fear into hearts as before. It was time for him to train a protégé to take over the family business. Of course, he had initially planned for Alfred to take over, but the Revolution. He then tried to raise Canada or Australia to be his legacy, yet that seemed hopeless. Australia was half feral, where at least little Alfred had taken some interest in his studies, Australia was more interested in zoology and his animals. That wouldn't do. Then there was sweet and pure Canada. He would be successful no doubt, Matthew was strong, smart, and respectful, but he didn't have the fire or want to take over the family business. In short, he was too nice and would rather make deals than be ruthless. (Not to mention he was one of France's.)

Therefore, here he was to reclaim his rebellious son. Bring him back into the fold of the Kirkland clan. Alfred was the oldest, he was ruthless, he was demanding, he was strong, he had what it took to take over. The problem is that, just like his brother, he wanted no part of being the power behind the empire. He wanted nothing to do with Europe. He wanted to stay in his home and farm. What a simpleton. That was Alfred's flaw, Arthur thought gruffly.

 Arthur was now standing on the large porch of a quaint farmhouse. There was gingerbread trim, roses and other flowers littered the yard, big oak trees dotted the yard providing shade. There were lace curtains in the windows, hand crafted rocking chairs, a swinging bench, hanging flowers from the rafters. All this was overlooking fields of corn and wheat, and just beyond you could see the river through the trees.

It was way too sweet to look at. Arthur grimaced. Sure he was a fan of flowers and lace but it was a bit different than what he had expected of Alfred.

He knocked on the door. Nothing. He knocked on the door again. Still nothing. He huffed. Was the git home or ignoring him? He knocked louder.

The door swung open to a miffed looking America, "Hello! How can I-ARTHUR!?" He yelled in surprise.

Arthur sighed and grimaced, "Yes. I have something to speak about with you. It is terribly important. And have you been ignoring my letters and telegrams!"

Alfred blinked rapidly, still getting over the fact that Arthur had come to his house and over the information Arthur had spit at him. He smiled tightly, "Why don't you come inside. I am sure you are parched after coming all that way. Let me get you something to drink." He shut the door behind Arthur and disappeared into the house. Arthur stood in the foyer and eyed a parlor to his right and made his way to sit on the couch.

Alfred had grown too much since the last time he saw him. He looked to be 17 or 18. He was like 13 or 14 at the treaty of Ghent. He had grown about half a foot. He looked healthy though. Arthur looked around the room. It was modest and neat. There was an adjoining room. Arthur got curious and peaked around the doorway. It must have been his office, there was a desk with various papers and books. Bookshelves crammed onto every inch of the walls. They were packed full of books, and he nearly tripped on stacks of books. Arthur raised a brow, he didn't take Alfred for a big reader.