A Strange Attack
Brave: A Hetalia FanFic
(I guess every Hetalian already knows this first bit but, I’d thought I’d throw it in anyways)
The world has always been made-up of the strangest of things: legends, tales, creatures, curses. . . Though now it’s divided into countries, each with a unique culture, fashion, and, well . . . I guess, fate.
The story here starts off in the early 1700’s, when France, Britain, and Spain were all fighting over America and who exactly was to become his owner.
Britain: America is my little brother because I have every right to look out for him! I’m the one running this whole new world concept so you should just back off!
France: To you?! Do you think you’re the only one who’s got power here?! Just suck it-I have every right as well!
Britain: Do not! I came over here with reason-to spread my rule and for plenty of others as well! In Europe you had every opportunity right in front of you, but you just had to wander over here! Making some new friends with those feathered people, frenchy?
France: They are natives! I respect that! Unlike that drunk army of yours!
Britain: Shut it you pansy!
Britain: Beaver-head! (The French had a thing for beavers in early America, no joke)
(Both growl at each other)
Spain: (appears) you know, fighting really can stress one out, hmm? I bet if we just calmly work this o-
Both France and Britain: JUST SHUT IT!!! (Evil eyes)
Spain: Uhhh . . . (shrinks down, a bit concerned)
In the end, Britain ended up buying America over, leaving him in a lot of dept. Though it would all be worth it, because now Britain had a younger brother.
Chapter 1: The Strange Attack
Britain: I’m going to find you! Ha ha!!
Britain was playing with Little America in the meadow in the land of the new world. It was the early afternoon and both were waiting for the return of the British troops.
America ran around, screaming with laughter as Britain chased after him.
Britain: Better run faster!
America laugher harder as he ran though the field then jumped down into the meadow, blending into the field itself. America breathed softly, hoping to perhaps not be found. Then he heard a snap.
America turned around and faced something that glowed a spectacular blue. He reached out his hand in effort to touch it, but it faded instantly as his hand rose to it. Disappointed, America turned back to the field-right into the face of another flouting, blue object. He screamed and got up and ran right into something. Britain was suddenly pushed to the ground by America, who now apparently was clinging to him tightly.
Britain (speaks painfully): Well, that was a little sudden. (Cough) (Slowly sits up) What’s gotten into you? (Britain forces a laugh)
America (still scarred): There was a whisp, where I was hiding.
Britain: A Whisp, hmm? Well (slowly stands up with America is his arms) don’t worry. Those things are just spirits, they won’t hurt you. Let’s get back to the base.
The two head back to camp, where the troops had returned safely.
Britain (sets America down): Say how was the trip? (To general)
General: (Sets down pole with a large flag attached to it on the ground) Oh It was fine, really. We like the woods, get to see some interesting things out here. No doubt.
Britain: Well help yourself and everyone to some refreshments. They are right over there, all made by yours truly. (Turns to table)
General: Oh thank you but we’re fine. (Smiles courteously)
Britain: Really? It was a long journey, right? You must be starve-
General: No (holds up his huge hand, interrupting), no. It-it’s fine. We are fine. (He laughs, nervously)
Britain: Right. (An annoyance starts to build up)
Random Troop: General, (solutes) we have settled camp here for the night and will be fit to leave by tomorrow.
General: Excellent. (Breathes in fresh air) Now we can spend the rest of the day as we please. Got the flag all pieced together finally. . . You know, a bit of hunting sounds tempting. What about you? (To Britain)
Britain: Oh, I’m not quite sure on that. I’ve been occupied with some tra-
A scream suddenly interrupts Britain, causing the general and some of the troops to look around puzzled.
General: What was that?
Britain: Probably America, he ran into some Whisps today. . (General and troops look at each other, confused) . . . I’ll bet he just ran into another one. (Chuckles)
All heads turn to the woods located on the far side of the valley below them. America comes running out of the woods, frantically.
America (screaming): Mr. Britain!! There’s a-a!!!
A loud roar interrupts America, as a large golden creature pounces out of the woods, chasing America. Its teeth snapping at America’s heels, gaining speed.
General: It’s a-
Random Troop: A Lion!!
Britain ran toward the table, grabbing his sword, and then ran toward the huge Lion. The General leapt after him and the troops started assembling weapons. Britain shoved America out of the way, striking the lion with his sword head-on. The lion dodged it instantly, then barred its teeth at Britain. The two began to circle each other, then the lion pounced. Britain blocked with his sword-the creature now only inches away from his face. He shoved him off. The lion pounced again, this time with greater speed, Britain just having enough time to roll away.
General: Hold on! (Leaps over fallen tree) (General rushes up a few paces behind Britain)
Britain glances back behind him, giving the lion enough time to strike again. A yelp then escaped from Britain as his sword was flung from his hands and now lay over on the grass a few feet aways. He fell to to his knees, gripping his left arm tightly as it oozed with blood. He clenched his jaw; suddenly an axe flew at the lion’s head. It backed away, roaring loudly.
General (Now next to Britain): Are you alright? (He had just wounded the animal a couple seconds earlier, sending an axe flying at his head)
The Lion rose up, a scar now on the center of its face, and roared at the General, now attempting to charge at him.
General: Just go! I’ll hold him off! (A troops throws the General another axe just as the animal is about to strike) (The general blocks it just in time) GO!
Britain gets up and looks around then spots America trembling in the grass a few feet away from Britain’s sword.
Britain runs over to America, grabs him with his right arm, whispering to him quietly that everything was going to be alright. Then ran over to his sword, tries to grab it with his left hand, but it is obviously broken and won’t move.
Britain: (thinks) D******! Why?
He manages to put the sword in his sheath, and runs off into the woods, breathing heavily.
1763 ( 6 years later) ~
As being a country, there are certain rules and laws that you have to follow. Everything that went in or out of the country had to be marked by the British. That’s how trade went. I was always required to furnish exactly what Mr. Britain said was needed. He told me that this was how the entire system worked, the mechanism system that is. It was annoying, yeah. No kidding. Though that’s why every Saturday day, I had the chance to escape from all of that.
America: (now around 10 years old) Ms. Adams! I’m heading out! (America called as he walked quickly down the stairs of the castle)
(Ms. Adams, a maid of the king, ran from her work in the tower to the railing beside the long, twisting staircase)
Ms. Adams: America! Have you told Sir Britain? (She yelled down, still holding a needle and thread)
America: (laughs loudly) Nope!
America continued down the stone stairs and quickly entered the main hall, where all the meals took place in the castle. He glanced at the table, and stole a handful of rolls that had been laid out. Ran out the ten-foot-tall doors into the small village where it seemed busy with the market. He dashed through the crowd, trying to be careful, but was too excited to really care if he set any pigs loose.
Woman Villager: Is that-(she chuckled, her hand trying to cover her smile) Guess they can’t yell at him, can they?
Older Woman Villager: Oh no. (She shook her head, shuffling the basket of oranges in her hands) He is quite bright, but when he’s determined, nothing can stop him.
The two watch as America manages to get past a flock of sheep in the middle of the dirt path, then comes up to the bridge that separates the castle from the valley and woods below. Right as he attempted to cross, a long metal pole stopped him. America looked up to his right to see a man with a scarred, bushy face standing next to him by a horse.
America: Ahh! C’mon Bert! Let me through! (Annoyed)
Bert: I will, I am simply just suggesting a ride. (Gestures toward the horse) It’s quite a long ways where you’re going.
America: (sighs heavily) I’m fine-
Bert: (tugs the horse closer) Right after Sir Britain went through the trouble of teaching you to ride, you ignore the fact you can.
America: You can leave out the “sir”, you know. He’s not too important.
Bert: Oh, so the crown’s not too important, hmm? Forgetting the fact that you live in a castle and all, with maids and seeing the King every other day-sounds very, very-
America: Oh right! Almost forgot! (Sarcastically) Now can I leave?
Bert: Sure, though I was just saying. . . (Shrugs, with a small smile)
America takes the reigns, frowning. Starts walking on the bridge, then once on the other side, got on the horse and trotted through the thicket.
(Flashback, a few weeks earlier) Both America and Britain are outside in a field facing each other and with horses next to them.
Britain: Now, I’m going to teach you the proper way to ride a horse. If you look here, there is a bridal-this is handy when it comes to directing your horse. Tells it which way you want to go. Following me so far?
America: (holding the reigns of his horse, standing a few feet in front of Britain) (Nods)
Britain: Alright, now it can get pretty uncomfortable without a saddle, so I’m just saying that it’s best to have one at all times when you’re ridding. The horse might not get sore but you will. Also the saddle can be helpful too when you are directing your horse. How about for a start you just get on your horse? Sound good?
America looks up from the ground at Britain, nods again.
Britain walks over to him, and holds America’s horse’s reigns for him as he starts to get on.
After a few minutes of struggling, he’s on.
Britain: Great. Now do you remember how to make it walk?
America pauses then slams his heels against the horse’s body. The horse goes flying forward; the reigns have instantly left Britain’s hands.
America! Britain calls, but he is a long ways ahead of him. America gallops with continuing speed, darting past the large boulders in the field, and scaring any creature near him. He circled the entire field in only a few minutes, and then galloped back to the center where Britain stood with his arms crossed. America slowly came to a trot and then a walk, easing past Britain, almost in a mocking kind of way.
Britain: (eyes narrowed, and then let out a long sigh): Looks like you passed. (Teasingly)
(Back to reality)
America trotted on the horse through the woods to an open area in the forest where no trees had sprouted. He got off the horse and walked over to a bush and uncovered an object from inside of it. It had a large, red circle contained inside of a wooden square-a target. He set up multiple targets all around the grassy area. Then after a moment of taking it in, he walked to the center of the open area. Made sure that the horse was well aways from the area, and then pulled a stubby object from his pants pocket. It glistened in the sunlight, its black color, rich. He pulled the top part of it back steadily-BANG!
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
America shot at every target with ease, the sound of the bullet blasting through the wood of the target, hitting the center every time.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
He rotated around the area, turning a full circle. A small breath of smoke escaped each of the targets where the bullet had hit. America then put the pistol back in his pocket.
He looked up at the sky, barely visible due to the branches. He breathed it in, the feel of freedom. Then finally looked down, and walked to where his horse was.