A quick note to say that I am the original author of this story when it was previously published on this site. It had twelve chapters but was never finished. This time it will be because I have already written it out. So please, no more comments about that.

Arthur Kirkland longed for the days like this. It wasn't as though he was lazy but, rather, he would push himself too much and become swarmed in his paperwork and duties. He had found himself sleeping at his desk for the last three days and developed back pains because of it (it was fortunate his friends were always around to help tidy everything up). It also didn't help that he had been feeling sick since he woke up that morning (he failed to eat well when working). But now, it was all over with! Arthur was free to spend his free time doing what he loved.

His feet were propped up on the footstool by the fire. The warmth of the flames tickled against his bare toes causing him to wiggle them around in the bliss. He sighed with pleasure and sank down lower in his armchair. A freshly made hot cup of tea was resting on the coffee table, almost pleading for the English nation to drink it. Arthur happily brought the tea to his lips and took a satisfying sip. The warm liquid trickled down his throat and made him shiver.

The cup went back to the table and Arthur then looked back at the three inch wide novel he was reading. It was a murder mystery novel that he had read before. He loved to reread them though because he would always pick up on clues he had overlooked before. This was a particular favourite for it had taken him almost till the end to solve the crime before the main character (the use of snake as the weapon was a genius one).

"At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey lanes."

He was content on spending the rest of the evening like this. He had purposely pulled the phone-wire out to avoid receiving any of those annoying recorded messages and all entrances had been locked shut in case any unwanted nations were to creep inside. Was it too much to ask for to be left alone? He enjoyed his solitude. It was peaceful and he hardly ever got annoyed unless he was sinking into his phase of 'nobody wants to be my friend'.

A tingling sensation ran through his fingers. He pulled his hand away from the frail pages and wiggled them about. That was strange. How often could someone get pins and needles in their fingers? He shivered as the sensation ran down his spine. Someone must be dancing over his grave tonight, so to say!

Arthur lowered the book down upon the table beside his drink (folding the corner of his page for he hated damaging the spines) and knelt down beside the fireplace. He carefully threw on another log to keep the fire going. Maybe he should eat something to warm him up? What would go well with the mood?

Crumpets! Oh yes, a plate of hot crumpets oozing with butter would be ideal. The English nation licked his lips with anticipation. Ignoring the slight daze that washed over him when he stood, Arthur quickly made his way over to the room that most guests dreaded seeing him inside.

He turned on the grill and placed a couple of crumpets underneath. He whistled as he worked; a merry tune that often played during the rugby matches. After two minutes, Arthur turned the crumpets over.

The merry whistling ceased when another dizzy spell overwhelmed him. Arthur rested back against the counter and placed his hand to his forehead. He knew he had been skipping a couple of meals whilst he was working but as a nation it shouldn't affect him like this. He closed his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed together as he waited for it to pass.

It lingered. Arthur turned towards the sink as his vision began to blur. Using his sense of touch, he tried to get a glass of water for himself. What the hell was going on…? Was something happening to his land or people? Impossible. If that was the case then he would have received an urgent call on his mobile that only a few select people had.

The glass slipped from his fingers but, thankfully, landed in the bowl with a loud clink. Arthur shook his head in attempt to remove the dizziness. Gradually, his vision returned to normal and the light-headedness passed.

Arthur splashed the water over his face and rubbed his eyes. He was beginning to feel quite cold now despite the contained heat inside the house. The frustration of not knowing what was happening to him was beginning to sink in. He growled under his breath and looked over at the grill. His precious crumpets had been reduced to charcoal. He didn't often burn his food (despite what others said) so he must have been out of it for a while.

He took the butter out of the fridge and began to spread it over the ruined crumpets. There was little point in wasting food. He only managed to finish buttering one before another dizzy spell swept over him.

The knife clattered onto the floor and he staggered back. His hand shot out for the edge of the counter but he couldn't hold his weight. His strength faded out and he dropped to the floor with a bang. His head made contact with the tiled floor and darkness quickly followed after.

It was warm outside: warmer than he remembered. It would have usually snowed by now. He was pleased it hadn't though for the snow made it only too easy to track others. The frost coated blades of grass crushed beneath his bare feet as he scampered off into the night.

What had happened?

Lights were flashing through the darkness. He could loud voices. Was there a dog barking too? There were alarms too.

He stirred and rolled himself onto his side. His head felt numb with pain and his eyes stung with the intense bright lights when he dared to open his eyes. The last time he had blacked out like that was when London Underground -

Arthur went pale. Was it another terrorist attack? He didn't feel any of the hot pain that came with bombings or fire but...

He quickly pushed himself into sitting position. His hand reached into his pocket and, ignoring the sickening feeling in his stomach, brought out his phone and flipped it open. There were no missed calls or any texts. That didn't remove the feeling of dread. He dialled a number and held the mobile to his ear. His fingers rubbed against his temples as he waited for an answer.

The call didn't take long. Parliament had nothing new to report to him. He was quick to make up an excuse and the man on the other side laughed and joked that he should have more time off if he gets this panicked over nothing. Arthur had faked a laugh before hanging up. Nothing had happened at all. Nothing. Not to his country or to his people. It left Arthur in a state of confusion. It was not every day that a nation would suddenly become sick like this without a cause. They couldn't get ill in the same manner mortals did.

His attention was seized by lights dancing around outside. He blinked and looked up over to the window. There were lights flashing outside and the dog was still barking like mad. He had failed to register what might have been happening in the mist of his panic. Arthur narrowed his eyes and cracked his knuckles into the palm of his hand. A crook must be wandering around. Perfect. Arthur could do with a good old-fashioned arse-kicking.

Arthur stood back up and gazed out of the window. A couple of shadows were moving around next time with torches and their dog was barking up a tree. The alarm had been turned off. He went over to his backdoor and unlocked it. He couldn't spot anyone moving around.

"What's happening here?" Arthur asked as he walked over to the fence that divided his and the neighbour's garden.

The dog turned its head towards him and growled. Arthur took no notice of the mutt's strange behaviour. He and the dog didn't get on well ever since Arthur caught him rampaging through a fairy's nest and upsetting his magical friends. The neighbours had no idea which was a relief but the dog shouldn't have been in his garden in the first place.

"Someone tried to break in," the male explained to him as he moved the torch across the leaves of the tree. "We heard someone move around in our kitchen. Buster here heard them. They went running up this tree."

Arthur looked up at the tree and followed the torch's light. He doubted a fully grown man would have been about to make himself hidden so well in those branches. The evergreens weren't the most comfortable to hide in. Then, in the corner of his eye, he noticed a rustling that the neighbours failed to see. The dog was growling again.

Curious, Arthur climbed over the fence and then leapt for a low branch. It was easy for the nation to get his balance. He wouldn't usually do such actions or risk his neck like this (the trespasser could easily have a gun) but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to let someone terrorise the area.

"Time to give up!" Arthur called as he swung onto the next branch. He knew where the git was hiding now for he could just make out the cloth between the leaves. The person clearly did not want to be caught. The next second, Arthur was clutching his forehead as a small roughly made arrow hit his head.

The arrow barely left a scratch but it was enough to set off his temper. He reached forward and took a tight hold of the person's leg. He tugged them forward and, to his surprise, the person yelped in a high pitch voice. He pulled them out of the leaves and -

Both screamed loudly in alarm as they stared at each other.

Those forest green eyes filled with fear, that grumpy expression on that grubby little face, that tatty green robe and cloak he use to wear, and those eyebrows... Arthur found himself staring into his younger counterpart!

"Who is it, Arthur?" His neighbour called out from below.

"..." Arthur placed his hand on the child's arm as the kid raised his bow. He then placed his finger to his lips and picked up the child. It was easy to climb down with the child in his arms for he had plenty of experience from when Alfred would go exploring (and get stuck numerous times) in the woods.

He smiled apologetically when he landed back on the ground. The dog was growling near his heels and the child was wiggling and screaming in Arthur's arms. Arthur had a tough time trying to keep hold of the rascal. "Sorry about that... I didn't realise he had left his bed. His mother dropped him off in the evening and... I guess I'm not use to looking after children." It was a terrible excuse and he knew this would lower his reputation with his neighbours but how else could he explain a child that looked just like him?

The neighbours blinked and stared at him in surprised. The torch's light moved over to the child who growled and waved his hand like a paw at them.

"He... er... has your eyebr - Ow!" The male was cut off when his wife nudged him in the side. "Eyes... he has your eyes."

"I am truly sorry... and so he is." Arthur looked down sternly at the child. "You won't do it again, right?"

Little Arthur stuck out his tongue and glared darkly at him. Christ, he was a handful. Had he always been like that? Arthur apologised again and quickly moved to the over side of the fence and back into the warmth of his own house. He placed the child down on the floor and the child instantly took off and vanished from sight.

No one was going to believe this. He wasn't even sure he did. Was this a bad dream? Or was someone playing cruel games with him?