Title: 'The Tower' - Chapter 1

Genere: AU, romance, adventure

Pairing: USxUK

Rating: Somewhere between PG and PG-13

Summary: Arthur is a lonely wizard who's locked himself away in a tower. At the goading of his friends, Alfred breaks into the tower, only to find said very (adorably) grumpy wizard.

'The Tower'

Long, long ago, in a world not unlike our own, but yet still completely different, there lied the small kingdom of Hetalia. It was a fascinating land, that, due to a suitable geography, held many different ethnicities and cultures. Like all countries, it had it's share of folklore and legends, but there was one in particular that every resident of the land, from old man to small child, knew. Near the small town of Salisbury, there was a great, expansive forest. And at the very heart of the forest, there stood an enormous tower.

The legend of the tower was as varied as the people who told it. Some versions of the legend claimed that the tower had been standing since the beginning of time. Some said that it was built by a god or deity, and other still proposed that it was all that remained of a once great civilization. But no matter what the story claimed the origin of the tower was, it's purpose was a constant. It was put there to house some great evil. What that evil exactly was, was yet another detail lost to time.

Perhaps this part of the legend remained the same, because it was supported by actual fact. No one ventured very far into the forest surrounding the tower, for the farther they went in, the less likely they were to come out. And so the people stayed away. And the tower stood. Ominous and foreboding, at the heart of it all.

It was, however, a sort of pastime for the young men of Salisbury to goad each other into going into the forest. It was a sort of "coming of age" ritual. The boy who went furthest into the forest was immediately declared the bravest by his group of friends. It was good, mostly harmless fun.

That is, until one day, when a young boy ventured into the forest and never returned. From that point onwards, the forest was strictly off-limits. A wall was erected, and a guard was posted along it. No one was allowed to enter the forest for any reason. And so it came to be that the citizens of Salisbury went about their lives, ignoring the wall, the forest, and the tower...


Roughly a century after the wall had ben erected, there lived in the village a young man and and his brother. They were very similar in appearance, but completely opposite in personality. The elder of the two, Alfred, was brash and bold, with a strong sense of justice. He had eyes like the sky on a cloudless day set behind his glasses, and hair like the wheat that grew in the fields surrounding their home. The younger brother, Matthew, was very timid, in contrast, and always shied away from conflict.

One day, the boys were down by the river, shirking off their chores by Alfred's suggestion. They met up with some of the other boys in the village and proceeded to idle away their time talking about anything and everything with their friends.

It began innocently enough. Alfred was starring at the tower, very intently, for a reason that the could not himself explain.

"Alfred, what's wrong, aru?" queried Wang, a boy who's family came from a faraway land, as was evident by his long silken black hair, striking features, and unique clothes.

Alfred was snapped out of his reserve. "Huh? What? Oh, n- nothing... I was just, looking at the tower. What do you think is in there? I mean, I know that we've all heard rumors. But what do you think is out there really?"

His friends looked at each other for a moment, surprised by Alfred's uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.

"Mon ami," Francis, an overly touchy-feely boy with long hair and stubble he refused to shave because he thought it made him look more 'vogue' said "those stories are just the adult's way of keeping the little ones in line. The tower is nothing more than a fairy tale."

Alfred wasn't convinced. "Yeah, but, they built a wall and everything! They wouldn't do that if it was nothing!" he turned his gaze back to the tower.

"I heard that the tower houses an evil witch, who disguises herself as a beautiful young woman to lure men to their deaths!" Matthew stated, his voice grim but excited.

"C'est terrible!" Francis cried over-dramatically "It is a crime against amour!"

"Well I heard it was haunted by the ghost of an evil king!" Ivan, a large boy who always wore a scarf said in his sing-song voice.

At this, Alfred stiffened. "G- ghost?"

"Yes. The king was murdered by his advisors because he was so corrupt. And his spirit still haunts the tower to this day..." Ivan said as he glared at him from behind his scarf. Seriously, that guy was so bizarre sometimes.

Alfred paled. "Is- is that so?"

"That's a load of crap, aru!" Wang commented, crossing his arms.

Francis, damn him, seemed to catch onto Alfred's discomfort. "What's this? You're not scared are you, Mr. Hero?" He said, using Alfred's love of heroism against him.

"Wha- what? N- no way!" Alfred protested "I'm not scared of some dumb witch or... or... ghost..." he trailed off at the end.

"OH? You're not, eh? Then why don't you prove it." Matthew said smiled at him from behind his glasses, with just a hint of malice in his tone. Mattie, what did I ever do to you? Alfred frantically thought. Except that one time I blamed you for the neighbor's broken window, or the time I gave your stuffed bear a haircut... or when I drank all your maple syrup... or... Damn.

If Alfred had any color left in his face, it was now gone. Crap. he thought. I don't wanna go up against some scary ghost... but I cant let them think I'm chicken! "Uh, what... what do you mean?" he finnaly replied, feigning ignorance.

Ivan stared at him with his sickeningly sweet smile "To prove to everyone you're not scared of the ghosts~", he drew out the word, just to see Alfred squirm, which he did. "Then you won't mind going into that tower."

Alfred gulped rather loudly. "In- into the tower?" His voice cracking as he spoke. The very thought of going anywhere remotely near a place with ghosts sent shiver down his spine. There was nothing else that scared him the way ghosts did. I mean, dead people should stay dead, right?

But it seemed that his friends had made up their minds. "Yes, that sounds like a magnificent idea." Francis said smirking like a cat who had just caught a bird. "You must go to the tower and bring back evidence that you were there. Or else..." he trailed off.

"Or- or else what?" Alfred asked, now slightly more scared of his friend's devious punishment than the threat of ghosts. But only slightly...


Alfred trudged his way through the trees, cursing his brother and the others with all his might. It was just like Matt to pull something like that. His brother was usually so quiet and unassuming, but he could be quite cunning when need be. It was probably from hanging around Francis too much. He made a mental note to keep those two away from each other.

At least sneaking into the forest wasn't a difficult task. (Seriously, why did they let some sleepy, cat-obsessed guy guard the wall?) Alfred all but strolled into the forest. A quick vault over the wall and he was in. He had paused briefly just after he passed the first few trees to see his friends encouraged him silently from the other side. And by encouraging, I mean making chicken charades and generally threatening gestures. With friends like that...

Shoving a branch out his way, and getting his pants caught on some thorns for the umpteenth time, Alfred trudged in the general direction of the tower. Although the tower was immense, the thick canopy of trees overhead obscured his view of it more often than naught. Because of this, he had become lost several times, and had to scale a tree or find a clearing to get his bearings once again.

All of this clamoring caught the attention of the woodland creatures. Deer scampered away at the (rather loud) sound of Alfred's footfalls. Squirrels jumped away from him, and rabbits sought the protection of their boroughs upon his arrival. But there was one creature of the forest that did not flee Alfred's presence. It was a small creature, with a faint glow and a humanoid form. She flapped he wings and followed Alfred, unbeknownst to him of course.

His long trek had left Alfred some time for introspection. Just what was he doing? Seriously. Hoping a guarded wall and sneaking into a forbidden forest to visit a possibly haunted tower.... This didn't seen particularly heroic to him. But then again... there had to be something to the mystery of the tower. They wouldn't have built a wall if there wasn't something to warrant one. But what could it be?

Alfred had heard all of the stories, but that's all that they were, stories. The only concrete evidence of the tower's "evil" was the documented disappearance a young boy some hundred years ago. But the rest... well, missing livestock was hardly the work of an evil tower. More like a wolf. Perhaps the tower was nothing more than a convenient excuse, a scapegoat. Perhaps...

Alfred caught himself before he could get too philosophical. His wondering would do him no real good. And so he focused ahead, to the tower, (or, the direction he hoped was the tower) and steeled him for whatever awaited him there. But he didn't have to wait long, because a few moment later, Alfred saw the enormous black base of the tower.

Stopping in his tracks, Alfred gulped audibly. This was it. The moment of truth. Alfred squared his shoulders, set his face into an expression that he hoped passed as determined, and slowly proceeded to walk forward.

"You can do this Alfred." he thought to himself. "Just go in there, grab something convincing, and then get the hell outta there! Yeah, no big. I can do this." It was at this point that Alfred had realized that he was standing before a rater large door, which appeared to be the only entrance to the tower. He craned his head back, peering up to try and see the top of the enormous tower. It seemed to go forever, scraping the very sky.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Alfred reached out a (trembling) hand toward the large, round, iron handle of the door. Before Alfred could grab at the handle, however, the door opened to revel a figure, whose face was shrouded in shadow due to the large hooded cloak they wore about their shoulders. In fact, Alfred could see little of the figure's, well, figure because of the immense thick cloak. It was almost as if, there WAS no figure beneath the cloak...........

Alfred screamed. It was neither manly, not heroic, or even remotely dignified. In fact, it was rather high-pitched for someone of his age and size. So in a way, it was quite impressive. Not that it really mattered, because a second later, Alfred's eyes decided to roll into the back of his head, and his legs felt that they had rather had enough of standing, and from there, gravity took over. It was at some point on the way down that Alfred lost consciousness. So when his body hit the ground with a thud, he was not able to appreciate the lovely shade of white that he had turned.

The figure beneath the cloak, however, was conscious for all of these things, and was able to appreciate them to their full extent. Well, appreciate was probably too strong a therm. 'Was scared pants-less' was probably a better term. I mean, how would you feel if you opened your front door and there was some idiot standing there who proceeded to scream in your face and then faint on your doorstep? Very rude.

The small twinkling creature that had been following Alfred without his knowledge delicately fluttered up to rest upon the figure's shoulder.

"Well, who is he, Kensi?" the figure asked in distinctly male voice. The figure was apparently familiar with, and able to see, this small creature.

"I don't know." the faye (for what else could she be?) replied, "He wandered in from the direction of Salisbury. He seems harmless enough. Well, mostly harmless. A real nutter, though. He kept mumbling to himself about ghosts, and witches, and curses."

The figure perked up at this statement. "Really? Do you think he has the sight?" the figure asked, a twinge of hope in his age-worn voice.

"I dunno. He never noticed me following me the whole time I was following him." the small creature replied.

"Hmm..." the figure uttered as he thought to himself. He then bent down on one knee beside the unconscious figure of Alfred, (who was mumbling something about ghosts) and preceded to pull back his hood. The figure stared down at Alfred's (lightly snoring) form with poisonous green eyes. His sandy, choppy bland hair stuck up at awkward angles as it always did. His (enormous!) eyebrows lowered into a frown over his eyes as he uttered the first of many words directed toward Alfred.

"Git."


On another side note, would anyone believe me if I told you that this was my first ever fic? I'm sure some would.

Comments are not mandatory, but much appreciated!

Thank you for reading! m(_ _)m