Authors' Notes: Special warning, this fic is crackful. Epic fail at Sweden accent! Hard to know what it would sound when you speak Spanish... And I'm not even going to try phonetics. Iain, Sean, Aeron and Patrick belong to Jackidy. Iceland, Denmark and Norway's names are mine.

Rún

Denmark grinned and snuggled against the protesting blue clad man, the sailor hat falling to the floor during the skirmish, as its owner shouted at the Danish nation to release him now. The Norwegian nisse was all to happy to 'help' the Danish man and tugged at his nation's harelip until it came off, Edgily watching the spectacle with bored purple eyes as they waited for the rest of the countries to arrive.

The Scandinavian nations (plus Iceland) had agreed to met and spent the afternoon in a pub in Heralds' territory to catch up with each other, Peter safely at Lithuania's house for the day having a sleep over with Raivis. Iceland had arrived earlier with his (the nation shuddered) older brother and the Danish man had proceeded to glomp the shorter man upon arrival, cooing at him gleefully.

"Norway~ I haven't seen you in a while~" The pub patrons glanced to see what the commotion was but turned back to their business when they saw it was only a man hugging another (Iceland was gland that Svi had chosen a establishment were they wouldn't get kicked out before getting smashed first.) "Hey there little guy, how is it going?"

"Let me go, you oaf!" Sigurðr grinned but let the blond go. He sat down and ordered two beers as he began to talk to the nisse who had decided to sit on his shoulder. "Can I have my clip back, please?"

"Spoilsport." Hemming refrained from hitting the other since his fairy was using him as a seat, though he was sorely tempted.

"Fin, I really wonder were you pull all that." The reunion was well underway as the nations knocked back their drink for the nth time. Finland and Norway, much to his chagrin, were sitting at either side of the Danish man, Berwald at the fin's side while Iceland completed the circle. Sigurðr was the heaviest drinker of the five but Tino drank a lot for such a small man in the nations' opinion.

"Hum? I don't know what you mean." Tino smiled contently as he polished another beer.

"Really Norwe~ How can you let him outdrink ya? You are taller than him!" It was a known fact that Sigurðr didn't care much about personal space, but it did not mean that the Norwegian felt comfortable about it, even after all the centuries together.

"Take your hands off!" The Danish man gasped for breath, letting his drink fall when the other man punched him in the gut. "I'm not a pet for you to manhandle me like one!"

"Jess, Hemmy, no need to kill me." The blond grumped and took his beer back from where it had, thankfully upright, landed. "Ya have certainly turned violent lately. Berwald, you are a really bad influence to him."

"Sh't 'p. Yo' 'r' n' b'tt'r." The swede glanced up from his drink and the Dane smirked back dangerously.

"Berwald..."

"Honestly." Denmark winced as he received a swat on the head from his neighbour. "Stop that you idiot. If anyone is causing trouble is you."

"You are mean, Norway~."

Maybe it was the several beers he had consumed or the stress he was getting by fretting over his younger brother crashing economy. Perhaps it was a little of both or, as Berwald would later say to his partner, that he simply had gotten too used to badmouthing the other without him taking offense for it. Whatever it was, there was not hiding the fact that the Scandinavian nation went a little to far with his words.

"Like you would understand it. Honestly, I don't know how we managed to live under the same roof once. I don't see how anyone can stand you, no wonder Svi..." Norway trailed off as his mind caught up with his mind, his brother and Finland wide eyes telling him what he already knew.

Denmark's face, which usually presented a wide, and somewhat idiotic in Iceland opinion, had grown dark at his brother's words. The subject of Sweden leaving and taking Finland with him (Or Finland following him) was a rather sensitive affair among them. The fact that Norway had left to join them to preserve his newly declared independence even more so.

"Then maybe you should sleep in his bed then." Finland yelped when the Dane slapped the arms that were trying to force him back to his seat, even Berwald staying quiet. The silent man knew that certain things were best left unsaid, like the Winter War. Tino and him had made their peace about the whole affair but it still remained as a 'I-won't-mention-it-if-you-don't' topic. Even Peter had learned to not ask about such matters after a rather uncomfortable time when he had asked England about the Roman Empire while reading about his 'cool' history.

The four separated shortly after, the evening turning sour after their once ruler stormed off.

"I can't believe you don't know were he is!" Sean shouted as his ex wife glared back at him. "He is your bloody son!"

"It's none of you bloody business! Patrick is free to go where he wish!" Arthur was quickly losing his temper as his Irish ex-husband demanded to know where their son had disappeared to. If the lad, as Arthur suspected he had, wanted to go out with his ex-colony in a date he had the damn right to do so, meddling father or not.

"If he is with that freaking-" Ireland yelped as Arthur punched him soundly in the face, sending him crashing to the floor.

"Don't you dare finish that you waker, no one insults my son." Sean, if he had been in a calmer state of mind, would had noticed how much he looked like he had in his pirate days. Instead, the nation only saw red and jumped to his feet angrily.

"Do you even bloody care about Patrick you-" The country growled as his brother physically stopped him from advancing towards their younger brother who had turned pale with rage.

"You have no right to say that to me! After all you have done to him!" Arthur growled as Aeron graved him to stop a new war from starting in the British islands.

"ME! DON'T TALK LIKE YOU GIVE A FLYING FUCK! THE ONLY THING YOU CARED ABOUT WAS HIS GODDAMNED TERRITORY! YOU MURDERED HIS PEOPLE WITHOUT THOUGHT!" Aeron didn't have time to react before Arthur shock him off, face contorted with rage and grief.

"... If that is what you thought of me... Why did you even bothered to come back?!" Eyes widening, Sean closed his mouth with an audible snap, his anger leaving him as he came back to his senses. The pain that his independence had brought them was too fresh for them to talk and not hurt one another. Fights about Patrick's fate were not uncommon in the household, be it as Northern Ireland or the boy himself. However, he had not blamed the British for 'the Troubles' for a long time, having accepted the fact that both of them were to blame in that particular issue.

Arthur, however, had disappeared long before any of them could think to stop him.

Hemming growled under his breath as he sat on his Danish lover's bed, the house silence mocking him. Denmark had disappeared after his insensitive, even from him, words at the Scandinavian meeting and had yet to came home. After eating his pride, he had asked his neighbours. None had seen the man since the event either and since the man's boss hadn't asked either, he suspected he had informed them he was going to be missing for a while.

Norway cursed as he snuggled in the big bed, blaming the larger nation for the feeling of loneliness and guilt that plagued him. Why did he had to chose this moment to be sensitive, damn it?!

While in the following weeks Ireland calmed down, specially after his son came back from his date with the Asian country (Chaperoned by Australia and New Zealand) things grow tense in the British islands when the personification of England failed to return home. Northern Ireland had not been very happy with his father after learning about the incident from his uncles and gave the older man a verbal beating for it to go with the once he already received from his other two brothers.

So it was a rather disgruntled group of nations that entered the conference room, the rest of the world nations following them.

All of which stopped short when they saw a rather pretty if somewhat flat (If you compared her to Ukraine or Hungary of course) girl dressed in a female navy uniform dosing in the formally missing and currently sleeping Danish man.

"What the- ARTHUR!" Aeron shouted as he stalked towards the now awaken duo, several nations gasping as the pretty girl lifted his head from his 'cushion' to reveal the British's rather peeved expression. "What are you doing with that fucking wanker?! You have been missing for three WEEKS!"

Now, to understand Wales rather explosive reaction one must think about the nation resent and distant past. The blond had been worrying about his missing twin for the last weeks after his brothers' quarrel reasonably sure that the British man would be fine, but growing steadily put out by his and Scotland undeserved, in his opinion, punishment. Why did they for Arthur to disappear as he had done?!

However, Aeron's anger came mostly from his rather volatile relationship with the Danish man before him and the swede somewhere behind him. When the twins were babies, the two had taken Arthur and mostly raised him in the Danish country until the Mediterranean freak had token the blond, leaving the small nation to fend on his own. Arthur had spent some years under the then Caledonia's care but Wales had not meet his twin until the time when the french bastard had took over his lands.

That had left Aeron rather bitter towards the two Scandinavians, a fact he made abundantly clear when he found his twin in their presence. It was one bloody thing to bitch about the British bastards (people) but Arthur was a completely different matter! The British was his!

"TAKE YOUR SODDING HANDS OFF HIM BEFORE I CUT THEM WITH A RUSTY SPOON YOU FUCKER!"

Arthur glared at him in his primly way but got off the Scandinavian nation's lap, short baby blue skirt brushing against his white stockings teasingly. Aeron bristled at the thought that he was dressing like that for someone who was not either Iain, Sean or himself. The damned male even looked confused at his anger and them pushed his sibling back into his lap by wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Nah~ We can participate like this, right?" Norway glared darkly at that and even his nisse and Iceland took a step away from him to avoid been caught in the incoming crossfire.

"YOU MOST CERTAINLY WON'T!"

"Aeron stop shouting. Honestly, what is your sodding problem?" Sigurðr whined as the British stood again and moved away from reach. Arthur ignored him as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his twin. Alfred and Canada, as well as several other countries couldn't help but notice the fact that Arthur looked eerily feminine while doing that. "Stop shouting for God's sake."

"WHAT IS MY PROBLEM?! I tell you what is my sodding problem; you disappear for weeks and appear dressed like a fucking whore with that pervert!"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME YOU- Stand away Denmark!" Sigurðr, regardless of the irate British protest, stalked towards the welsh, pulling his signature axe from places unknown.

"You sit down." Arthur growled but stood back as the Dane advanced towards Wales. "Now, you... Let make something clear you cunt, if you say that kind of shit once more I will gut you, brother or not."

Aeron growled but whatever answer he was prepared to give was cut by a shriek and a whistle. While all attention had been concentrated on them, none had noticed France sneaking towards the British nation until a hand flung the other's skirt up. Now, normally that wouldn't have caused the two warring countries to stop, Arthur was well versed in the art of reducing the french to pulp. However, one small fact stopped them.

When Francis lifted the skirt, exposing pale thighs covered by white shorts, there was a rather noticeable absence between the nation's legs. Now, there was not much time to process this as Francis soon found himself running around the room as Arthur (Was she even Arthur?) chased him with the Dane's Axe, finally nailing with hit the handle in the gut. Only Sigurðr rather timely interruption saved the french neck from departing from the rest of the body as he effortlessly took his weapon back and handed the woman the sailor hat she had dropped during the chase.

"Well~ I don't think you really need us here so~." Arthur yelped as the Danish nation picked her up without effort. "Francis~ Be gland she got you first or I would had made sure you could never attempt to satisfy a woman or man again~." Francis whimpered from the floor as Denmark gifted him with a rather psychotic smile. "See you all later~." With that the man picked the pair's bags, causing another shriek from the woman on his shoulder as she clutched him, and her glasses, for dear life before abandoning the room, Patrick chasing after them.

"... Erh, Uncle Iain? Who was that?" Matthew was the first to find his voice and the nations gathered around the red head, meeting long forgotten in light of the more interesting, and confusing, events.

"Yeah, that girl was wearing my uniform! Sort of! And why did you call her by the jerk's name?!" Tino yelped as Sealand appeared, Hana-Tamago barking from the child's embrace.

"Sealand! What are you doing here?!"

"Aeron, she is going to kill you. Francis, I'm going to kill you, you bloody frog." Scotland grunted but sat on the conference table, the rest of the nations taking their usual seats, Sealand on the finish lap. "Well, yeah, to answer the main question, that was indeed Arthur."

"But that was a woman!" Alfred pointed the obvious but glaring problem passing over most nations' minds.

"Gee, you noticed, you sodding yank?" Iain mocked him, not at all surprised by the kid's (to him) point. "Ever heard of a shapeshifter? Where did you think Patrick came from?"

"Hum, excuse me... I don't mean to interrupt but has anyone seen Su-san?"

Denmark smirked as his daughter, of sorts, tugged at the uniform's skirt, clearly uncomfortable by the short length. Northern Ireland was clutching one of the girl's arms while the blond guided her by the waist. Berwald had joined them shortly after Patrick and now the four of them were walking while enjoying a cone of ice-cream.

"So yo' w'r' 't h'r ho's'?"

"Yeah, Morgana said she had to blow some steam and we are staying at the seaside mansion." Morgana grumped as she was pushed into the Dane chest but didn't push away her more affectionate father. Patrick, thankfully, was behaving in the presence of the (what were they anyway? His grandparents?) two older nations.

"H'mming w's worri'd."

Denmark glared at the floor before looking back at the other. There was a usually hidden pain in the Danish nations eyes. "...I will go back, eventually... Just... Not for a while."

"I'll c'll yo' if yo'r boss n'ds yo'."

"Thanks."

It took a few months for the dust to settle after Arthur's (Or was is Morgana's?) powers were revealed to the world. During which Norway, Wales and Ireland finally managed to get the two nation's forgiveness and thing returned to more or less normal. The curious nations played a large part in it, specially Arthur's colonies, who wanted to now if they were like Patrick or not.

End

Author's Note: Hope your brain doesn't need bleach after that. This piece was born because no matter how a person may not notice, snide comments can hurt people we care about without knowing how much it affects them. 'Tsundere' or not.

The bit about shapeshifter Arthur was born by the fic by Jackidy, 'Nothing to Prove' in which Arthur is the biological mother of Patrick and Himaruya's drawing of a female Arthur (a.k.a Igiko).

Also, in Arthur's own words, he is like the son of the ex-wife/husband who the new boy/girlfriend deeply dislikes. Considering the new girlfriend would be Norway and the ex-wife/husband Sweden... Finland likes him though, even after the Winter War. Iceland, well~ you will find out later. Yeah, head cannon is weird.

Sh't 'p. Yo' 'r' n' b'tt'r.: Shut up. You are no better.

So yo' w'r' 't h'r ho's'?: So you were at her house?

H'mming w's worri'd.: Hemming was worried.

I'll c'll yo' if yo'r boss n'ds yo'.: I'll call you if your boss needs you.