My Little Hetalia: FACE Familyby nobody_in_particularChaptersWaking up in EquestriaFinding Canada (who?)A Room for the Night Waking up in EquestriaAll America could hear were the two arguing voices next to him. “What did you do, Arthur?” “What did I do? You were the one who replaced that spell with the one I was trying to do, you frog!” “Yes, because everything is always my fault!” “It usually is!” “Oh, well what about that one time...” He groaned softly, about to lift his head and tell the couple to can it, but something that England said made him pause. “It’s your fault that we’re horses, you bloody wanker!” America shut his eyes and tried to wake up. They weren’t really, ponies, this was just some weird dream, maybe caused by some sort of hamburger-hangover. There was a soft clopping noise getting closer to him before something large and warm pressed up against the side of his body. He felt something on the top of his head. Not a hand but something else. This object was hard and in the shape of a circle. Kind of like a rock, but not heavy. It stroked his hair softly. He smelled the familiar scent of France’s roses and wine. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you, Francis!” England said. He heard that same, odd sound again before he felt another warmth against him, this one stroking his cheek softly. The teenage boy willed all of his courage and opened his eyes to see what-or who-was in front of him. He looked up and saw a green horse in front of him with blonde shaggy hair and emerald eyes. He would’ve been totally confused about who it was if there hadn’t been huge eyebrows above the eyes. He looked to the side and saw that it was France who was sitting next to him on the ground. His coat was a bright purple, and he had his hair tied back in a lose ponytail. Both of the stallions had unicorn horns sticking out of the middle of their foreheads. America closed his eyes and said, “I’m a horse too, aren’t I?” He didn’t even need either of the men to confirm it. He sat for a moment, wondering how in the heck his family got turned into a bunch of horses. Wait…his family… “Where’s Matt?” he asked, looking up at Britain. “Oh, yes, Matthew. He’s…um,” The man stuttered, with no apparent answer. He looked over at France. “What are you looking at me for?” France demanded. “It’s no secret Matthew’s your favorite. You’re always hovering over him, talking about him all the time.” “Non, I do not hover over Mathieu.” England raised an eyebrow. “And for the record, I haven’t seen him at all since we got here. I don’t even know if he came with us.” Actually, Canada did come though the portal. He and Kumajiro were the first ones to arrive, followed by England a few minutes later. France was close behind his husband, with America coming last. Canada opened his eyes, finding everything to be a bit blurry due to the fact that his glasses were no longer on his face. He saw them lying in the dirt a few feet away. He reached for them, but instead of seeing his hand he saw a chocolate brown hoof. He gasped and twisted it around to make sure it really belonged to him. “Oh my, are you alright?” said a voice quiet enough to rival his own. He looked up to see a butter yellow pegasus hovering above him. She had long pink hair that had a slight curl to it. A small white rabbit sat on the top of her head. “I think these belong to you.” She picked Canada’s glasses off of the ground and dusted them off before handing them to him. “Thank you.” Canada said before standing up on his four shaky legs. He took the glasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are we?” The pegasus’s nose scrunched up in confusion. “We’re in Equestria.” “That wouldn’t happen to be anywhere near Europe, would it?” “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that is. Are you from there?” Canada nodded sadly. “Yeah. I have no idea how I got here, though. One minute I was making dinner for my family, and then I’m sprawled out of my stomach in the dirt with a bunch of pastel ponies.” “Separated from your family? Oh, you poor thing.” the mare said sympathetically. “And you’re not very old, are you?” Canada shook his head again. “145. About a teenager in human years, but I’m not nearly as old as my parents.” “145?” the mare said, her yellow eyes widening. “We ponies usually never live to be that old. Do most humans live that long?” “No, and I’m not human, I’m a country. Actually the human embodiment of a country. I’m Canada, by the way.” “Canada? That’s an interesting name. Well, I’m Fluttershy.” Fluttershy held her hoof out to him. Canada smiled and shook her hoof. “And this is my bunny Angel.” Fluttershy said, motioning to the bunny sitting on the top of her head between her ears. It glared at him and folded its little paws. The sight of the mare’s pet made Canada gasp in fright, suddenly aware that his polar bear was nowhere near. “Kumajiro?” he called. “Kumajiro?” A small, fuzzy polar bear walked over to them. “Who are you?” it asked in a high voice. Canada sighed in relief. “Oh thank goodness, you’re okay.” Kumajiro climbed onto Canada’s back. “Hungry!” it said. “Oh, he’s so cute!” Fluttershy swooned, making Angel Bunny grunt in anger and stomp his little foot on her head repeatedly. “You are too, Angel.” Fluttershy reassured him. This seemed like a reasonable answer for the little thing, so he quieted down. She directed her attention back to Canada. “Well Canada, if you want you could come over to my cottage and we can get your bear some food, and I can make tea for the two of us.” she offered. “Okay, that sounds nice.” Canada said with a sweet smile. Fluttershy smiled back and the two of them started through Ponyville together. Finding Canada (who?)“When I look into all of your stupid faces, I think of how fun it will be to pound them into dust.” -Russia England stood up, shaking the dirt off of his coat. “All right then.” he said decisively. “We’ll go look for Matthew. He couldn’t have gotten far. We just have to blend in with the crowd. And if anyone asks, we’re just two men going out for a walk with our son. Follow me, chaps.” He started towards town, leaving France and America. France groaned and rolled his eyes. “You know, Amerique, sometimes Angleterre moves much too fast for me.” “Maybe because you’re an old man, frog.” They looked up and saw that England hadn’t gone more and a few feet. France narrowed his eyes and ran after him. “I am not an old man!’ America sighed and rose to his legs, feeling very unaccustomed to walking on four legs. He started slowly after his parents, because if he went any faster he would have tripped and ran the risk of accidentally breaking Texas, his beloved glasses. As the three stallions walked though town, America stared at the ground and France at the surrounding buildings, while England happily smiled at the other ponies that were out and about. “I told you this would work,” England whispered to France through his fake smile. They passed by a little restaurant with mushroom tables outside so ponies could eat in the sun. Sitting at one was a purple pony with wings and a horn. She was reading a large book and had her face so close to it that her nose was almost touching the parchment. Across from her was a small purple dragon who was inspecting a red crystal before popping it in his mouth. He had a large bowl in front of him filled with all different colors of gems. As they passed the purple pony looked up from her book and watched them with interest. Just before they were out of sight the pony galloped up next to them. “Hi there!” she greeted with a cheerful smile. “I haven’t seen you in Ponyville before. Are you new?” “Nice job blending in, mon cher.” France said, accidentally on purpose forgetting to whisper. England glared at him angrily. “If you don’t mind, Francey-Pants, I’ll do the talking.” He turned his head back to the pony. “Hello there, Miss. We actually are not from here, but we are in the neighborhood today to…um,” he stuttered nervously. America rolled his eyes at Britain. “We’re trying to find my twin brother Matthew.” he blurted out. He flinched as France smacked him upside his head. “Alfred, this will only lead to more questions.” France scolded. “And I don’t know how many more excuses Angleterre can come up with today.” England snapped his head around, a deep scowl etched in his face. “For your information, frog, they are not excuses. I am simply giving this nice woman a very watered-down version of what we are doing.” “You didn’t seem to have a problem saying lies about Germany, even to Feli’s face.” “You were the one who convinced me to do it!” America groaned in annoyance, knowing of something didn’t change he’d be stuck there all day listening to his parents argue. The mare wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. She stood there with a hoof under her chin and her nose scrunched up slightly, thinking deeply. “You know,” she said suddenly, quieting the two men. “I did see a stallion who looked exactly like your boy here walking through town with my close friend Fluttershy. Same coat and mane, same glasses…Different eyes, though. He also had a big white bear with him.” “Yes! That’s him! Do you have any idea where he might be?” England asked frantically. The mare thought for a moment before answering. “It looked like they were on their way to Fluttershy’s cottage. It’s straight ahead, not very far. You can’t miss it.” “Thank you, Mademoiselle,” France said appreciatively. The mare blushed lightly before nodding. “You’re welcome. No need to be formal, though. You can call me Twilight.” Spike looked up from his bowl of crystals and saw Twilight talking to a trio of stallions he had never seen or met before. He ran over just as the three were leaving. “Who were they?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen them in Ponyville before.” Twilight looked over at him. “They’re from another town, trying to find their son. Gosh, I hope they can find him. That would be horrible if they never found him.” she said with a worried expression. She sighed softly before turning around. “Well, if the missing stallion is with Fluttershy then I think he’s alright. It’s not often that ponies go missing, unless there’s some kind of national emergency.” Spike looked up at her with interest. “Where did they say they were from?” he asked. Twilight paused for a moment. “I don’t think they did. That’s strange.” She looked back at their taken exit. “I could’ve sworn they said… something.” Her pause was caused by her eyes momentarily turning red. After they had faded back to their natural hue of deep violet, Twilight blinked a few times before looking down at her dragon friend. “Oh, hey Spike! When did you get here?” she asked with a smile. “Twilight...” Spike started before trailing off and deciding it would be best not to say anything that would surely end up in an argument. “Anyhow, we have to get back to the castle-it’s reshelving day!” “But the last reshelving day was three days ago,” Spike grumbled, reluctantly following his caretaker. “What was that, Spike?” Twilight asked, still talking in an oblivious voice. “Nothing.” he groaned and let his feet drag against the dirt as he walked. His shoulders were hunched over and his eyes were cat downwards. It was the perfect picture of defeat. “Enjoy this sunshine, Spike. It’ll be a few days before you get it again,” Twilight said with a short giggle. Spike bit his lip as he thought of ways to slip out of the castle without Twilight noticing. *Time skip brought to you by Italy-Cat. Ve~!!* “Dad, we’ve been walking for, like, forever!” Alfred groaned. “I mean, how far out is this girl’s house, anyway? Maybe we should ask for directions.” Arthur sighed in annoyance at his youngest son. “Al, it’s been five minutes. I think you can stand five more. Besides if you got exercise more often and laid off on the burgers you’d be fine.” “Lay off on the burgers?” Alfred asked in a tone that suggested Arthur had told him to go jump off of a cliff. “Dude, I could never!” “And that’s only one of your problems,” England mumbled. “And trust me, there are many.” He ignored the soft tap on the shoulder from France. “Angleterre,” he said quietly, not wishing to anger to country further. England and America ignored him, continuing to bicker. “Hey, whaddaya mean one of my problems? I have no problems!” “Other problems? What about your bloody healthcare?” England snapped. “Angleterre,” France said again, this time louder. “Bro, that’s harsh, even for you. I mean, busting on another bro’s healthcare? That’s just cold,” America said, shaking his head sadly. “Honestly, America, can’t you speak the Queen’s English like I taught you?” England sighed, starting to feel a headache forming over his left eye. “ARTHUR!” France screamed in his ear, making England slap him-hard. “What in God’s name was that for!” he cried angrily. “I found the place,” France said in a normal tone, motioning to a small cottage with a stream in front. There were squirrels and bunnies and hummingbirds lounging on the lawn, climbing up trees and just doing whatever. Small clusters of pink and blue butterflies fluttered around in the air. “Oh,” Arthur said before starting towards it. While France and England were walking at a reasonable pace, America ran right up to the door shouting, “I’ll save you Mattie!” He reared up on his front legs and kicked the door down, making Fluttershy jump under the table she and Canada were sitting at. America spotted his brother and ran over to him, flinging his hooves around his twin’s neck. “Mattie, you’re okay.” he said, sounding like he was about to burst into happy tears. “Alfred Jones, what the hell do you think you’re doing, knocking down an innocent pony’s door!?” England stood in the doorway, fuming at his son. By the time Arthur had reached the door, Francis and Alfred were already with Matthew, hugging him tight. Canada smiled happily, amazed that they had actually remembered him. As much as he was loving the attention, he shook them of and lifted up the tablecloth. Fluttershy sat curled up in a quivering ball, eyes wide with fear. “It’s okay, Flutters.” Canada reassured her. “They’re just my family. They don’t bite.” France gave a sultry smile. “I will, but only if you want me to.” he said, followed by his obnoxious laugh. That earned a punch in the shoulder from England. “Arthur, that hurt.” France pouted, holding his hoof to the injured area. “Oh, shut it frog. We have no time for your perverted side-comments.” “They’re French endearments, non?” “No.” England said, eyeing France suspiciously. “Hey, who are you guys?” a voice asked. The five ponies turned their heads to see Kumajiro sitting on the ground, eating a pancake that he had pulled out of seemingly nowhere. Canada rolled his eyes. “We’re your family, Kuma.” The polar bear cocked his head to the side. “Really?” A Room for the Night A Room for the Night "Keeping yourself strong proves a greater strength," -America Alfred winced slightly as the hot tea burned his throat. He had grown up drinking Arthur’s tea and was used to it, but after he got hooked on coffee, tea just wasn’t enough. He set down his cup very gently, knowing that Arthur would fuss at him if he wasn’t gentlemanly enough. “I wish Tony was here,” he muttered, staring down into his Earl Grey. “Al, Tony is an alien from outer space. I think he can take care of himself for a while,” Matthew said, not bothering to even look up at his twin. “You missed the point,” Alfred said, then said quietly, “as usual.” Matthew decided not to say anything back, not wanting to start a fight that would surely last all day. Alfred wasn’t one to back down easily from any sort of fight. He was the hero, after all. He would keep at it until the other person finally gave up and said he was right. If you were to ask Francis or Matthew about that, they would most likely tell you that he got that part of his personality from Arthur. Arthur himself would deny it (no surprise there) but that never made it any less true. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the first stress-free moment of the day they’d had so far. The four of them-Alfred, Arthur, Francis, and Matthew-were sitting around a small table in the guest room in Fluttershy’s house. The room used to belong to Discord whenever he dropped by, but the Spirit usually ended up in Fluttershy’s bed anyway, leaving the room obsolete. Fluttershy had agreed to let the four men (and Kumajiro) stay until they got their problems sorted out. She didn’t question them much, knowing where her boundaries were. She had gotten very few answers out of Mathew, but from what he had been able to tell her it sounded like they would be there for a while. Arthur took a long sip of his tea before looking over at Francis, realizing the man hadn’t spoken at all for at least fifteen minutes. His eyes were cast downwards and his hair had been messily pulled out of the ponytail. Surprising, since Francis would usually contract a serious case of OCD when it came to even a single hair being out of place. “What’s the matter, old chap? Finally learning how to be quiet?” Arthur asked, more harshly than he had intended to. “Nothing,” the Frenchman said, his voice sounding as sad as he looked. He stood up and quickly walked into the hallway, not looking back as he left. Arthur sighed and looked down into his empty teacup. On the outside the fine china was painted-almost childishly-with little flowers and suns and pink hearts. “I’ll be back,” he said, taking the same exit as Francis had. He expected to see his husband sitting against the wall, but there was no one there. He glanced out the window and saw him sitting next to a small fish pond in the backyard. He had the tip of his hoof dipped in the water, swirling it around mindlessly. Arthur quietly walked up behind the purple unicorn, trying to not let himself be noticed. He almost couldn’t believe it when he saw Francis’ shoulders shake and sniffling noises were audible. He didn’t realize he’d spoken his thoughts out loud until the man’s body stiffened. “Francis, are you crying?” “Non, I do not cry,” Francis said, his voice cracking on the last word. Arthur didn’t say anything. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that Francis was one to cry from time to time, usually when being reminded Jeanne. He had a million snarky thoughts running through his mind. He could’ve picked any one of them and embarrassed Francis even more, but for once he didn’t. Arthur sat down next to the older blonde, rubbing his back gently. “Ça va être d’accord, mon peu chou.” he said slowly in mispronounced French. Francis laughed softly and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “Really, Angleterre? Cabbage?” “You say it all the time to the twins.” Arthur pointed out. “Indeed, mon cœur.” Francis cooed softly. Then he started giggling. “Everyone is probably wondering where we are. Germany will be so mad at us for missing today’s World Meeting. Oh, if only they knew…” Then he started laughing that annoying French laugh of his that Arthur couldn’t help but think was adorable, even though he refused to admit it. And before he knew it, he was laughing, too, thinking of the other countries’ confused looks as they thought of where the family could’ve gone. “Oh, that reminds me,” the heavily accented voice next to him said. “Antonio and Gilbert were coming over tonight to have dinner. Those two will obviously make up the craziest scenarios to explain our absence.” It sounded hilarious and they couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how hard they tried. Arthur was desperately in need of air, but the sound of his lover’s laugh set him off again every time. It wasn’t long before they collapsed on the grass, their arms wrapped around each other. Arthur nuzzled his face into the crook of Francis’ neck, breathing in his sweet scent. “Je- Je t’aime Francis,” he whispered softly before falling asleep even though it was only about five o’clock in the afternoon. “Je t’aime Arthur,” Francis said in return, kissing the top of his mari’s spiky hair. He looked down at the other stallion’s face as he slept. For a man who usually had a sour mood and a frown on his face all day long, Arthur looked rather peaceful when he slept, the corners of his mouth upturned ever so slightly. “Ah, mon Cherie, if I were as cruel as I seemed I would leave you here until morning,” Francis said as he lifted Arthur onto his back. He was used to the weight from when they used to go out drinking together and the Brit would end up passing out before he got home. He walked into their room and saw Matthew and Alfred sitting on the carpet across from each other. Neither boy looked up as he walked in and set Arthur down on the bed before getting in next to him. “I give up, Alfred. This is not working,” Matthew sighed. “What?” Alfred asked in shock. “It’s totally working! Besides, you’re in the lead now, so you can’t be looking for an excuse to drop out.” “Al, Rock, Paper, Scissors doesn’t work with hooves. How do you make the scissors?” Alfred shrugged, a goofy grin on his face. “I don’t know. Maybe we should actual scissors instead.” Matthew’s dark brown fur paled, shock in his violet eyes. “Yeah, I vote on not doing that.” “Come on, Mattie. Sometimes in life you have to take the risky road. Now is one of those times.” “Plus comme la chemin à la hôpital,” Matthew said under his breath. “What did you just say?” Alfred asked. “Huh? You know I don’t understand French like you and Papa do.” “Nothing,” Matthew said with a wry smile. “You want to get to sleep? Dad and Papa have already hit the hay.” “What? But why?” Al groaned. “It’s so early! I can never go to bed before 9:00.” “Fine then,” Matthew said, getting in between his parents. “But you’re gonna be really bored in a little while.” Alfred considered that for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Scoot over, then.” Matthew smiled, knowing he had won. “Yeah, just don’t wake Dad up. He’ll kill you.” Alfred gulped, eyeing the bed in worry. Once Alfred had gotten in without waking up either of his parents, he rolled over to face his twin. “This is so boring!” he whispered. “Fermer en haut et aller à lit,” Matt whispered back. Alfred huffed angrily and squeezed his eyes shut. “I already told you I don’t understand French!”
Waking up in EquestriaAll America could hear were the two arguing voices next to him. “What did you do, Arthur?” “What did I do? You were the one who replaced that spell with the one I was trying to do, you frog!” “Yes, because everything is always my fault!” “It usually is!” “Oh, well what about that one time...” He groaned softly, about to lift his head and tell the couple to can it, but something that England said made him pause. “It’s your fault that we’re horses, you bloody wanker!” America shut his eyes and tried to wake up. They weren’t really, ponies, this was just some weird dream, maybe caused by some sort of hamburger-hangover. There was a soft clopping noise getting closer to him before something large and warm pressed up against the side of his body. He felt something on the top of his head. Not a hand but something else. This object was hard and in the shape of a circle. Kind of like a rock, but not heavy. It stroked his hair softly. He smelled the familiar scent of France’s roses and wine. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you, Francis!” England said. He heard that same, odd sound again before he felt another warmth against him, this one stroking his cheek softly. The teenage boy willed all of his courage and opened his eyes to see what-or who-was in front of him. He looked up and saw a green horse in front of him with blonde shaggy hair and emerald eyes. He would’ve been totally confused about who it was if there hadn’t been huge eyebrows above the eyes. He looked to the side and saw that it was France who was sitting next to him on the ground. His coat was a bright purple, and he had his hair tied back in a lose ponytail. Both of the stallions had unicorn horns sticking out of the middle of their foreheads. America closed his eyes and said, “I’m a horse too, aren’t I?” He didn’t even need either of the men to confirm it. He sat for a moment, wondering how in the heck his family got turned into a bunch of horses. Wait…his family… “Where’s Matt?” he asked, looking up at Britain. “Oh, yes, Matthew. He’s…um,” The man stuttered, with no apparent answer. He looked over at France. “What are you looking at me for?” France demanded. “It’s no secret Matthew’s your favorite. You’re always hovering over him, talking about him all the time.” “Non, I do not hover over Mathieu.” England raised an eyebrow. “And for the record, I haven’t seen him at all since we got here. I don’t even know if he came with us.” Actually, Canada did come though the portal. He and Kumajiro were the first ones to arrive, followed by England a few minutes later. France was close behind his husband, with America coming last. Canada opened his eyes, finding everything to be a bit blurry due to the fact that his glasses were no longer on his face. He saw them lying in the dirt a few feet away. He reached for them, but instead of seeing his hand he saw a chocolate brown hoof. He gasped and twisted it around to make sure it really belonged to him. “Oh my, are you alright?” said a voice quiet enough to rival his own. He looked up to see a butter yellow pegasus hovering above him. She had long pink hair that had a slight curl to it. A small white rabbit sat on the top of her head. “I think these belong to you.” She picked Canada’s glasses off of the ground and dusted them off before handing them to him. “Thank you.” Canada said before standing up on his four shaky legs. He took the glasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are we?” The pegasus’s nose scrunched up in confusion. “We’re in Equestria.” “That wouldn’t happen to be anywhere near Europe, would it?” “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that is. Are you from there?” Canada nodded sadly. “Yeah. I have no idea how I got here, though. One minute I was making dinner for my family, and then I’m sprawled out of my stomach in the dirt with a bunch of pastel ponies.” “Separated from your family? Oh, you poor thing.” the mare said sympathetically. “And you’re not very old, are you?” Canada shook his head again. “145. About a teenager in human years, but I’m not nearly as old as my parents.” “145?” the mare said, her yellow eyes widening. “We ponies usually never live to be that old. Do most humans live that long?” “No, and I’m not human, I’m a country. Actually the human embodiment of a country. I’m Canada, by the way.” “Canada? That’s an interesting name. Well, I’m Fluttershy.” Fluttershy held her hoof out to him. Canada smiled and shook her hoof. “And this is my bunny Angel.” Fluttershy said, motioning to the bunny sitting on the top of her head between her ears. It glared at him and folded its little paws. The sight of the mare’s pet made Canada gasp in fright, suddenly aware that his polar bear was nowhere near. “Kumajiro?” he called. “Kumajiro?” A small, fuzzy polar bear walked over to them. “Who are you?” it asked in a high voice. Canada sighed in relief. “Oh thank goodness, you’re okay.” Kumajiro climbed onto Canada’s back. “Hungry!” it said. “Oh, he’s so cute!” Fluttershy swooned, making Angel Bunny grunt in anger and stomp his little foot on her head repeatedly. “You are too, Angel.” Fluttershy reassured him. This seemed like a reasonable answer for the little thing, so he quieted down. She directed her attention back to Canada. “Well Canada, if you want you could come over to my cottage and we can get your bear some food, and I can make tea for the two of us.” she offered. “Okay, that sounds nice.” Canada said with a sweet smile. Fluttershy smiled back and the two of them started through Ponyville together.
Finding Canada (who?)“When I look into all of your stupid faces, I think of how fun it will be to pound them into dust.” -Russia England stood up, shaking the dirt off of his coat. “All right then.” he said decisively. “We’ll go look for Matthew. He couldn’t have gotten far. We just have to blend in with the crowd. And if anyone asks, we’re just two men going out for a walk with our son. Follow me, chaps.” He started towards town, leaving France and America. France groaned and rolled his eyes. “You know, Amerique, sometimes Angleterre moves much too fast for me.” “Maybe because you’re an old man, frog.” They looked up and saw that England hadn’t gone more and a few feet. France narrowed his eyes and ran after him. “I am not an old man!’ America sighed and rose to his legs, feeling very unaccustomed to walking on four legs. He started slowly after his parents, because if he went any faster he would have tripped and ran the risk of accidentally breaking Texas, his beloved glasses. As the three stallions walked though town, America stared at the ground and France at the surrounding buildings, while England happily smiled at the other ponies that were out and about. “I told you this would work,” England whispered to France through his fake smile. They passed by a little restaurant with mushroom tables outside so ponies could eat in the sun. Sitting at one was a purple pony with wings and a horn. She was reading a large book and had her face so close to it that her nose was almost touching the parchment. Across from her was a small purple dragon who was inspecting a red crystal before popping it in his mouth. He had a large bowl in front of him filled with all different colors of gems. As they passed the purple pony looked up from her book and watched them with interest. Just before they were out of sight the pony galloped up next to them. “Hi there!” she greeted with a cheerful smile. “I haven’t seen you in Ponyville before. Are you new?” “Nice job blending in, mon cher.” France said, accidentally on purpose forgetting to whisper. England glared at him angrily. “If you don’t mind, Francey-Pants, I’ll do the talking.” He turned his head back to the pony. “Hello there, Miss. We actually are not from here, but we are in the neighborhood today to…um,” he stuttered nervously. America rolled his eyes at Britain. “We’re trying to find my twin brother Matthew.” he blurted out. He flinched as France smacked him upside his head. “Alfred, this will only lead to more questions.” France scolded. “And I don’t know how many more excuses Angleterre can come up with today.” England snapped his head around, a deep scowl etched in his face. “For your information, frog, they are not excuses. I am simply giving this nice woman a very watered-down version of what we are doing.” “You didn’t seem to have a problem saying lies about Germany, even to Feli’s face.” “You were the one who convinced me to do it!” America groaned in annoyance, knowing of something didn’t change he’d be stuck there all day listening to his parents argue. The mare wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. She stood there with a hoof under her chin and her nose scrunched up slightly, thinking deeply. “You know,” she said suddenly, quieting the two men. “I did see a stallion who looked exactly like your boy here walking through town with my close friend Fluttershy. Same coat and mane, same glasses…Different eyes, though. He also had a big white bear with him.” “Yes! That’s him! Do you have any idea where he might be?” England asked frantically. The mare thought for a moment before answering. “It looked like they were on their way to Fluttershy’s cottage. It’s straight ahead, not very far. You can’t miss it.” “Thank you, Mademoiselle,” France said appreciatively. The mare blushed lightly before nodding. “You’re welcome. No need to be formal, though. You can call me Twilight.” Spike looked up from his bowl of crystals and saw Twilight talking to a trio of stallions he had never seen or met before. He ran over just as the three were leaving. “Who were they?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never seen them in Ponyville before.” Twilight looked over at him. “They’re from another town, trying to find their son. Gosh, I hope they can find him. That would be horrible if they never found him.” she said with a worried expression. She sighed softly before turning around. “Well, if the missing stallion is with Fluttershy then I think he’s alright. It’s not often that ponies go missing, unless there’s some kind of national emergency.” Spike looked up at her with interest. “Where did they say they were from?” he asked. Twilight paused for a moment. “I don’t think they did. That’s strange.” She looked back at their taken exit. “I could’ve sworn they said… something.” Her pause was caused by her eyes momentarily turning red. After they had faded back to their natural hue of deep violet, Twilight blinked a few times before looking down at her dragon friend. “Oh, hey Spike! When did you get here?” she asked with a smile. “Twilight...” Spike started before trailing off and deciding it would be best not to say anything that would surely end up in an argument. “Anyhow, we have to get back to the castle-it’s reshelving day!” “But the last reshelving day was three days ago,” Spike grumbled, reluctantly following his caretaker. “What was that, Spike?” Twilight asked, still talking in an oblivious voice. “Nothing.” he groaned and let his feet drag against the dirt as he walked. His shoulders were hunched over and his eyes were cat downwards. It was the perfect picture of defeat. “Enjoy this sunshine, Spike. It’ll be a few days before you get it again,” Twilight said with a short giggle. Spike bit his lip as he thought of ways to slip out of the castle without Twilight noticing. *Time skip brought to you by Italy-Cat. Ve~!!* “Dad, we’ve been walking for, like, forever!” Alfred groaned. “I mean, how far out is this girl’s house, anyway? Maybe we should ask for directions.” Arthur sighed in annoyance at his youngest son. “Al, it’s been five minutes. I think you can stand five more. Besides if you got exercise more often and laid off on the burgers you’d be fine.” “Lay off on the burgers?” Alfred asked in a tone that suggested Arthur had told him to go jump off of a cliff. “Dude, I could never!” “And that’s only one of your problems,” England mumbled. “And trust me, there are many.” He ignored the soft tap on the shoulder from France. “Angleterre,” he said quietly, not wishing to anger to country further. England and America ignored him, continuing to bicker. “Hey, whaddaya mean one of my problems? I have no problems!” “Other problems? What about your bloody healthcare?” England snapped. “Angleterre,” France said again, this time louder. “Bro, that’s harsh, even for you. I mean, busting on another bro’s healthcare? That’s just cold,” America said, shaking his head sadly. “Honestly, America, can’t you speak the Queen’s English like I taught you?” England sighed, starting to feel a headache forming over his left eye. “ARTHUR!” France screamed in his ear, making England slap him-hard. “What in God’s name was that for!” he cried angrily. “I found the place,” France said in a normal tone, motioning to a small cottage with a stream in front. There were squirrels and bunnies and hummingbirds lounging on the lawn, climbing up trees and just doing whatever. Small clusters of pink and blue butterflies fluttered around in the air. “Oh,” Arthur said before starting towards it. While France and England were walking at a reasonable pace, America ran right up to the door shouting, “I’ll save you Mattie!” He reared up on his front legs and kicked the door down, making Fluttershy jump under the table she and Canada were sitting at. America spotted his brother and ran over to him, flinging his hooves around his twin’s neck. “Mattie, you’re okay.” he said, sounding like he was about to burst into happy tears. “Alfred Jones, what the hell do you think you’re doing, knocking down an innocent pony’s door!?” England stood in the doorway, fuming at his son. By the time Arthur had reached the door, Francis and Alfred were already with Matthew, hugging him tight. Canada smiled happily, amazed that they had actually remembered him. As much as he was loving the attention, he shook them of and lifted up the tablecloth. Fluttershy sat curled up in a quivering ball, eyes wide with fear. “It’s okay, Flutters.” Canada reassured her. “They’re just my family. They don’t bite.” France gave a sultry smile. “I will, but only if you want me to.” he said, followed by his obnoxious laugh. That earned a punch in the shoulder from England. “Arthur, that hurt.” France pouted, holding his hoof to the injured area. “Oh, shut it frog. We have no time for your perverted side-comments.” “They’re French endearments, non?” “No.” England said, eyeing France suspiciously. “Hey, who are you guys?” a voice asked. The five ponies turned their heads to see Kumajiro sitting on the ground, eating a pancake that he had pulled out of seemingly nowhere. Canada rolled his eyes. “We’re your family, Kuma.” The polar bear cocked his head to the side. “Really?”
A Room for the Night A Room for the Night "Keeping yourself strong proves a greater strength," -America Alfred winced slightly as the hot tea burned his throat. He had grown up drinking Arthur’s tea and was used to it, but after he got hooked on coffee, tea just wasn’t enough. He set down his cup very gently, knowing that Arthur would fuss at him if he wasn’t gentlemanly enough. “I wish Tony was here,” he muttered, staring down into his Earl Grey. “Al, Tony is an alien from outer space. I think he can take care of himself for a while,” Matthew said, not bothering to even look up at his twin. “You missed the point,” Alfred said, then said quietly, “as usual.” Matthew decided not to say anything back, not wanting to start a fight that would surely last all day. Alfred wasn’t one to back down easily from any sort of fight. He was the hero, after all. He would keep at it until the other person finally gave up and said he was right. If you were to ask Francis or Matthew about that, they would most likely tell you that he got that part of his personality from Arthur. Arthur himself would deny it (no surprise there) but that never made it any less true. They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the first stress-free moment of the day they’d had so far. The four of them-Alfred, Arthur, Francis, and Matthew-were sitting around a small table in the guest room in Fluttershy’s house. The room used to belong to Discord whenever he dropped by, but the Spirit usually ended up in Fluttershy’s bed anyway, leaving the room obsolete. Fluttershy had agreed to let the four men (and Kumajiro) stay until they got their problems sorted out. She didn’t question them much, knowing where her boundaries were. She had gotten very few answers out of Mathew, but from what he had been able to tell her it sounded like they would be there for a while. Arthur took a long sip of his tea before looking over at Francis, realizing the man hadn’t spoken at all for at least fifteen minutes. His eyes were cast downwards and his hair had been messily pulled out of the ponytail. Surprising, since Francis would usually contract a serious case of OCD when it came to even a single hair being out of place. “What’s the matter, old chap? Finally learning how to be quiet?” Arthur asked, more harshly than he had intended to. “Nothing,” the Frenchman said, his voice sounding as sad as he looked. He stood up and quickly walked into the hallway, not looking back as he left. Arthur sighed and looked down into his empty teacup. On the outside the fine china was painted-almost childishly-with little flowers and suns and pink hearts. “I’ll be back,” he said, taking the same exit as Francis had. He expected to see his husband sitting against the wall, but there was no one there. He glanced out the window and saw him sitting next to a small fish pond in the backyard. He had the tip of his hoof dipped in the water, swirling it around mindlessly. Arthur quietly walked up behind the purple unicorn, trying to not let himself be noticed. He almost couldn’t believe it when he saw Francis’ shoulders shake and sniffling noises were audible. He didn’t realize he’d spoken his thoughts out loud until the man’s body stiffened. “Francis, are you crying?” “Non, I do not cry,” Francis said, his voice cracking on the last word. Arthur didn’t say anything. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that Francis was one to cry from time to time, usually when being reminded Jeanne. He had a million snarky thoughts running through his mind. He could’ve picked any one of them and embarrassed Francis even more, but for once he didn’t. Arthur sat down next to the older blonde, rubbing his back gently. “Ça va être d’accord, mon peu chou.” he said slowly in mispronounced French. Francis laughed softly and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “Really, Angleterre? Cabbage?” “You say it all the time to the twins.” Arthur pointed out. “Indeed, mon cœur.” Francis cooed softly. Then he started giggling. “Everyone is probably wondering where we are. Germany will be so mad at us for missing today’s World Meeting. Oh, if only they knew…” Then he started laughing that annoying French laugh of his that Arthur couldn’t help but think was adorable, even though he refused to admit it. And before he knew it, he was laughing, too, thinking of the other countries’ confused looks as they thought of where the family could’ve gone. “Oh, that reminds me,” the heavily accented voice next to him said. “Antonio and Gilbert were coming over tonight to have dinner. Those two will obviously make up the craziest scenarios to explain our absence.” It sounded hilarious and they couldn’t stop laughing, no matter how hard they tried. Arthur was desperately in need of air, but the sound of his lover’s laugh set him off again every time. It wasn’t long before they collapsed on the grass, their arms wrapped around each other. Arthur nuzzled his face into the crook of Francis’ neck, breathing in his sweet scent. “Je- Je t’aime Francis,” he whispered softly before falling asleep even though it was only about five o’clock in the afternoon. “Je t’aime Arthur,” Francis said in return, kissing the top of his mari’s spiky hair. He looked down at the other stallion’s face as he slept. For a man who usually had a sour mood and a frown on his face all day long, Arthur looked rather peaceful when he slept, the corners of his mouth upturned ever so slightly. “Ah, mon Cherie, if I were as cruel as I seemed I would leave you here until morning,” Francis said as he lifted Arthur onto his back. He was used to the weight from when they used to go out drinking together and the Brit would end up passing out before he got home. He walked into their room and saw Matthew and Alfred sitting on the carpet across from each other. Neither boy looked up as he walked in and set Arthur down on the bed before getting in next to him. “I give up, Alfred. This is not working,” Matthew sighed. “What?” Alfred asked in shock. “It’s totally working! Besides, you’re in the lead now, so you can’t be looking for an excuse to drop out.” “Al, Rock, Paper, Scissors doesn’t work with hooves. How do you make the scissors?” Alfred shrugged, a goofy grin on his face. “I don’t know. Maybe we should actual scissors instead.” Matthew’s dark brown fur paled, shock in his violet eyes. “Yeah, I vote on not doing that.” “Come on, Mattie. Sometimes in life you have to take the risky road. Now is one of those times.” “Plus comme la chemin à la hôpital,” Matthew said under his breath. “What did you just say?” Alfred asked. “Huh? You know I don’t understand French like you and Papa do.” “Nothing,” Matthew said with a wry smile. “You want to get to sleep? Dad and Papa have already hit the hay.” “What? But why?” Al groaned. “It’s so early! I can never go to bed before 9:00.” “Fine then,” Matthew said, getting in between his parents. “But you’re gonna be really bored in a little while.” Alfred considered that for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Scoot over, then.” Matthew smiled, knowing he had won. “Yeah, just don’t wake Dad up. He’ll kill you.” Alfred gulped, eyeing the bed in worry. Once Alfred had gotten in without waking up either of his parents, he rolled over to face his twin. “This is so boring!” he whispered. “Fermer en haut et aller à lit,” Matt whispered back. Alfred huffed angrily and squeezed his eyes shut. “I already told you I don’t understand French!”
