DISCLAIMER: Hetalia: Axis Powers – Hidekaz Himaruya

FORTUNE'S FAVOUR

EPILOGUE

NORTH SEA

1736

The blue-eyed child looked like a cherub, picture-perfect, with soft golden locks and a big, sunshine smile that beguiled his adoptive parents. Al stood happily on the bow of the ship he called home. It was a slender two-mast schooner painted cornflower-blue, the exact shade of Al's eyes. On her hull in calligraphic script she proclaimed her name: The Lily Maid. Dad's savings couldn't have afforded her alone, not even with the addition of severance pay from the navy, but Papa's—ahem—savings (loot from two years of pirating: "Why didn't you tell me you were bloody rich?" Dad yelled at Papa in surprise) had paid the balance.

After being discharged from the Royal Navy—after his performance captaining The Rose, the navy was happy to let him go—Arthur had bought The Lily Maid and left England with Francis, Al, and Matt. She was a schooner less than half the size of The Rose and was easily manned by two people, soon-to-be four once Al and Matt grew-up a little. (They had just turned five-years-old in July.) They sailed North Sea, where Arthur and Francis quickly established themselves as entrepreneurs. With Arthur's maritime knowledge and Francis' money they started a business in transporting goods—any kind of goods—for a premium price. The Lily Maid's stealth and the expertise of her two captains made her all but undetectable to pirates and the navy alike. She ran in secret, of course, and soon earned a reputation as a ghost ship, which amused Matt and terrified Al. But he loved it.

He loved his life aboard The Lily Maid. He loved climbing and fishing and learning to sail; Papa was even teaching him how to cook. He loved the ports they visited and the people they met. He loved being rocked to sleep by the waves. He was no longer afraid of the world or suspicious of strangers. He no longer felt the need to protect Matt and himself from danger, because he had Arthur and Francis for that now. They were his family and they loved him.

They were his home.

KIRKLAND

Alfred, chéri," said Francis, holding him around the belly. Alfred spread his arms and pretended that he was flying as The Lily Maid cut through the white-capped waves. He laughed happily, trusting Francis not to let go. "Don't fly away on me," the Frenchman teased, tickling him.

Alfred shrieked in giddiness. "Don't worry, Papa. I'll always come back."

"Well you had best be back before tea," said Arthur, mock-stern. He was carrying Matthew on his shoulders, letting the boy play with his spyglass. Matthew giggled at Arthur's joke. (Bless that boy, he was the only one who ever laughed at Arthur's lame wit.) "You won't want to miss it, Alfred. Papa's made, err... some sort of jam biscuits."

"They're called navettes, chéri," Francis corrected.

"I don't care," said Arthur. "They're flakey, little French pastries—" he leant forward and kissed his lover's stubbled cheek "—but I've grown rather fond of them. Don't you agree, Matthew?" he asked, lifting the boy down to the deck. Matthew stood at the bow beside Alfred and smiled at his parents.

"Yes, Dad."

"You just love sweets, don't you, Mathieu?"

"Oui, je adore les bonbons, Papa. May I steer the ship now, Dad?" he asked, tugging on Arthur's sleeve. His long-lashed eyes looked exceptionally violet in the glowing sunset, full of hope and wonder.

"You steered already today!" Alfred argued. "It's my turn! I'm gonna be a gweat captain soon!"

"Yes indeed, pet," said Arthur as Francis ushered both boys.

They raced each other to the helm, already apt at keeping balanced. So young, they had adapted quickly to life aboard the rocking ship and moved as if they were born to it. They yelled and laughed, fighting each other: healthy and happy and loved. Arthur and Francis followed them to the helm, watching indulgently. Francis threaded his long fingers through Arthur's and squeezed gently as they walked. It was a simple gesture, but it felt good. Then, as Arthur reached the steps, Francis stopped.

"Is this everything you wanted?" he asked, indicating the boys, the ship, the open-sea.

"And more," Arthur replied, staring down at Francis. "I stand corrected, frog-eater." He leant down and met Francis' lips, losing himself for a moment in the taste. "As it so happens, you can live on love."

Francis pulled Arthur closer."I never thought I'd say I love you to an Englishman," he admitted. "Nor thank-you for giving me a second chance. I won't waste it."

"I don't expect you to," Arthur replied. "They need you." He nodded to the boys. Then added: "I need you."

"Now—?" Francis teased.

"Maybe." Arthur's lips curled into a suggestive grin, but before he could elaborate—

"Dad, hurry! I want to steer the ship!" Alfred called, moaning loudly. "Watch me, Papa. I'll show you how."

"Yes, chéri. Show me what a great sailor you've become."

"I have too. I can steer better," Matthew bragged quietly.

Francis winked at him in confidence. Arthur positioned both boys at the helm and placed their tiny hands on the wheel. He kept a hand on each boy's shoulder, feeling a father's pride. He loved them both so unconditionally, and it had happened in such a short time. Now, he couldn't imagine his life without them—all three of them. He could feel Francis' body behind him, standing close. He could feel Francis' velvety lips on his skin. He wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist and held him close as the ship heaved-to, making the ex-naval captain feel like he was exactly where he belonged.

Smiling, Arthur said: "Have at it, lads. Take us home."

As The Lily Maid sailed into a fiery orange sunset, Francis whispered: "We are home."

FIN

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