Hello! My name is Arthur Kirkland, but feel free to call me England. A little while ago, I had an unfortunate magical accident and am now only six inches tall. For now! I'm sure I'll figure out how to get back to normal. Eventually. Ask Arthur Stuff!
Knowing what was coming up, Arthur elected to skip the New York meeting and stay behind at his temporary home. The whole time, he alternated between pacing a nervous hole in the felt carpet of his sitting room and fumbling around with the tea set Alfred had gotten him and nibbling what remained of his Valentine’s chocolates. At least he could make his own tea now, heating the water over a little stove made from an old tabletop lighter. It was too bad he didn’t have an oven, because doing some baking would have been an excellent way to pass the time until Alfred came back.
And brought Matthew with him.
At least it was Matthew, and not someone like Spain who might decide to get a little revenge, or even Portugal who would tease him about it for the rest of recorded time. Former enemies were bad, but exes were the absolute worst. Canada, sweet Canada, wouldn’t hurt or mock him. He could handle him finding out. As long that he didn’t bring that bloody bear. Arthur didn’t really fancy being eaten alive, covered in maple syrup.
That didn’t help the way that his heart went from a steady stressed to a panicked racing the moment he heard Alfred’s car coming up the driveway. He looked out his windows, as if he’d actually see outside instead of just out into Alfred’s bedroom. He would this go over? Would Matthew be angry they’d kept the secret for so long? Or think it was all a trick and grab him to prove it? There were too many possibilities to decide which was more likely.
The twins’ voices drifted up from downstairs as the door creaked open, and he strained to hear what they were saying.
“We’re here. Will you tell me where Arthur is yet?” Matthew asked, obviously making no secret that he was upset with his brother, going from that tone.
“Er, well, about that,” Alfred said, and Arthur could just picture him rubbing the back of his neck as he talked. “He’s here, actually. Upstairs.”
“What?!”
Arthur grimaced, putting down his tea cup and getting up to head to his front door. He really didn’t want the house yanked open or to be pulled out through a window like the woman in a King Kong movie.
“What do you mean he’s here!?” Matthew demanded, voice getting higher with upset. “How long has that been?”
Alfred didn’t answer right away, probably getting glared into submission by his twin before he spoke up. “Um, since last year? I’ve been kind of taking care of him. He’s not hurt, don’t worry! There’s just… well, I guess it’ll be easier to show you than to explain. You’d never believe me anyway, ha ha. Heck, I wouldn’t believe me either if I hadn’t seen it!”
“Alfred F. Jones, you had better have something pretty spectacular up there or- Or I’m going to crack you over the head with a hockey stick!”
“Dude, not cool. Anyway, you’ll see what I mean. Come on. He’s probably waiting for us.”
Their footsteps traveled from the hall and up the stairs, coming closer to the bedroom with every instance. Arthur swallowed, knowing that big door outside would open any moment now.
When it did, he peeked out the little window at the pair coming in, stalling as long as he could. The fact that he was being so nervous around his own former colony was ridiculous, but he still sweated.
“I don’t see him,” Matthew said flatly, looking around the room. He stared at the miniature house. “Alfred, is this some kind of joke? You made a model of Arthur’s house and what, put a doll of him inside?”
“Come on Mattie, I’m not that kind of an ass,” Alfred protested, sulking. “Hey Artie, come on out and tell Mattie I’m not some lying jerk!”
He supposed that was his cue. Arthur took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out onto his porch. He didn’t need to look up to hear that sharp intake of air when he did. “Well, you can be an arse at times, but I’ll admit that this isn’t one of those instances. Hell, Matthew.”
The Canadian stared down at him with wide eyes, caught between shock at seeing and disbelief. He opened his mouth a few times, trying and failing to find his voice.
Somehow, the fact that he wasn’t the only one feeling unbalanced made Arthur feel better and he waved him down. “Oh, come down here. I have enough problems right now without adding a sore neck from staring up at you skyscrapers on top of it.”
“You’re… tiny,” Matthew said finally, slowly sinking down to kneel in front of the little house and its even smaller resident. He still loomed, but the boy could hardly help that. “How—What happened to you?”
“A poor choice to combine a New Year’s celebratory pub crawl and a spell of some kind, though what one I have absolutely no idea still,” Arthur said, coughing with embarrassment at the admission. “Scotland’s been looking into it. Or at least he told me he has been.” He caught the automatic flash of skepticism and let out a huff. “Oh come on. You’re looking at a six-inch-tall bloke. In this case, I think a little believe in magic is warranted! I wouldn’t miss over a year’s worth of work for a bloody lark.”
Matthew sighed, letting out a breath and tentatively reaching a hand out to Arthur. “I suppose it’s a little farfetched. But why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been worried about you. Even Francis knows, doesn’t he?”
Drawing up his courage, Arthur stepped up into his hands, trusting that the Canadian would handle him carefully. “That, I had no control over. The damn frog found me before I even woke up after the fact last year. Believe me, waking up in hi bed with a giant naked France looming over me is my own special nightmarish hell. And he’d already called Alfred and my brothers. It’s embarrassing, being this way.”
“You still could have told me,” Matthew said with a pout that was eerily similar to his brother’s. “Well, at least you and Alfred seem to be getting along better.”
Arthur’s cheeks warmed up as Alfred started laughing, slapping his brother on the back with a grin. “Well, about that…”
They knew that Matthew wouldn't be satisfied with Alfred's poor excuse for long. He’d sent a sour email to Alfred after the last meeting not ‘quite’ accusing Alfred of assuming he didn’t care for the ‘missing’ Brit. Arthur was just glad that the Canadian wasn't the one waiting for them when they got back from Alfred's office a few days later.
Not that he was particularly happy to see the frog as he peeked out of Alfred's pocket either.
"Dude, how'd you get in here?" Alfred asked, stopping dead in his tracks when he stepped inside to see Francis sprawled on his sofa like he owned the place, sipping at a cup of coffee while he read a recent copy of the New Yorker.
"Bon, you should be happy that it is moi, and not my sweet little Matthieu," Francis said, setting aside his reading glasses to look up at them. "Did you know that he still has a key? Well, had."
"Huh?" Shutting the door behind him, the American carefully lifted Arthur from his pocket to set down on the coffee table. "What do you mean? Of course he has a key. He's my little bro."
"And he has been getting suspicious, Amérique." Sitting up, Francis scooped up the tiny Brit without so much as a by you leave, holding him up at eye level, ignoring the automatic demand to be put down. "If I had not borrowed his key, you may have had a surprise visitor."
"So you decided to break in and accost me yourself instead!?" Arthur growled, trying to pry the older nation's fingers open, much to Francis' amusement.
Chuckling, he poked the shrunken nation's cheek with a finger, quickly yanking it back when Arthur tried to bite it. "Non. Petit lapins are not supposed to bite, Angleterre."
"Piss off, frog."
Francis let out an exagerated sigh. The one downside to having called America to come take care of Arthur was that he'd lost out on so much opportunity to tease him like this. Ah well. There was no standing in the way of love. And he had not missed those little signs in the way Alfred looked down at his pocket during meetings. "Alfred, haven't you trained him yet? 'e still bites."
"Come on, enough teasing," Alfred said, hard pressed to keep from laughing and getting himself into trouble as he reached to take Arthur back. Maybe he'd have to just hold onto him until Francis left, letting him up to sit on his shoulder. "So, you took Mattie's copy of my key? I guess having him make a surprise visit right now probably wouldn't be the best idea... He's going to notice it gone though."
"Keys go missing all the time," Francis said, waving the worry away. "But you may want to decide what to do about the rest of your situation. Would it be so terrible if you told him? Better than him finding out on his own, non?"
Alfred chewed his lip. If Matthew found out they'd been keeping it from him for this long, and it wasn't because they finally told him... he'd be grumpy for months. He glanced over to his shoulder. "What do you think, Artie? It's kinda up to you, I think. Your secret."
"Well, I suppose he's on the short list of people I know who wouldn't take advantage of my situation," Arthur said with a sigh. "You're the next meeting host, aren't you? Go ahead and invite him over."
Francis clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Now, has your kitchen remained safe from the disaster that is Angleterre's reign? Because since I am 'ere, I thought it only appropriate to provide you two with some edible food."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
[[ooc: Ladies and gents and more, I hope you’re enjoying the story mode we’re currently on. If you want to help out the blog, please send in your asks! Thanks! <3]]
The strangest thing about the strange jump in time they'd experience the other week was that no one else seemed to notice it'd happened. Not their bosses, not Alfred's neighbors, not even the other nations. Alfred had expected a ton of questions about where he'd gone when he headed to the next world meeting (which was properly noted on his phone calendar). But far from an explosion of questions, he just got the raised eyebrow from Wales to check on Arthur that he'd gotten used to, and a comment from Germany about being late. (Which totally wasn't his fault! The line at McDonalds was long, and Arthur had already scolded him for it before they'd gotten out of the car!) It was weird!
An hour in, he was out of burgers and bored out of his skull. Alfred groaned, leaning forward and leaning his head on the table. He didn't even have any new cool plans to fix the economy, and China had shut down the old one he'd had right away. Totally not cool.
Huffing, he lifted his head and tried to be subtle as he peeked down into his pocket. Sleeping old man, check. The sight made him smile despite himself. For being such a crank, Arthur could be really damn cute. Maybe he could tease him about that later and make him blush.
"Alfred?"
The American jumped, quickly jerking his hand away from his pocket to close it up. "I didn't do anything!"
Matthew looked at him with a raised eyebrow, ignored by the rest of the group as they broke for lunch. "I didn't say you did."
"Ha ha, of course not," Alfred said quickly, putting on a big grin. "What do ya need, Mattie?"
"Can I talk to you, alone?" his brother asked hesitantly, frowning at him.
Something about that made him nervous. Had Matthew noticed something going on? He swallowed, couching. "Yeah, sure bro! Want to hit the Starbucks downstairs? I'm dying to try that new blonde roast."
"Alone," his twin repeated, stressing the word with that level of iron firmness that he could have only learned from Arthur when they were kids. Matt put a hand on his arm, guiding him to corner of the rapidly emptying conference room, staying quiet until they were alone. "Where were you for the last couple months?"
"You... noticed I was gone?" Alfred asked slowly, feeling a stirring in his pocket as Arthur woke up.
"You’re my twin, Alfred. Just because people don't notice whether I'M around or not doesn't mind I'd not notice you missing for half the year!"
Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I guess not. It's just that no one else seemed to, which was kinda weird, I gotta tell you.”
"You should have seen it when you were gone," Matthew said with a huff, folding his arms over his chest. "Everyone had a different reason why you weren't showing up and no one seemed to realize that the stories didn't line up. Alfred, does it have anything to do with where Arthur's been?"
Shit. Alfred froze. "What do you mean?"
"Don't try to bullshit me, Alfred Franklin Jones," the Canadian said with a glare. "I've seen Wales checking in with you every meeting. Scotland swears he didn't do anything to Arthur, and he hasn't been home sick like they said when he stopped coming to meetings. You know where he's been and you're not telling me."
Double shit. His brain spun, trying to figure out what to tell Matthew. The trouble was, his twin was very good at seeing when he was lying. He opened his mouth to try and talk himself out of explaining when Francis came to his rescue.
"Matthieu~ Come eat with me," the Frenchman called from the door, waving to him before coming in to wrap arms around Matt.
As he was dragged away, Matthew looked back over his shoulder, expression making it very clear that this conversation was not over. Alfred still waited until they were gone before letting out a breath.
"Well, we're perfectly fucked," Arthur said, voice coming up from his pocket.
Alfred snorted, leaning back against the wall. "No shit."
[ooc: Guess who’s back my lovelies? One miniature Brit and his American boyfriend guardian! Life’s been holding me up for a while but now I’ve got a little more time to dedicate to this little project and I hope some of you are still around to enjoy!]
It's a quiet winter afternoon in the Jones household. One might even say too quiet. Like it's been casually empty for months. And then, suddenly, it wasn't, as one nation and two cats appeared without warning in the middle of the living room. The trio blinked in confusion, felines wandering off to investigate as Alfred just stood there.
"What in the world..?" he asked slowly, turning in a circle. And then a blast of fresh snow promptly blew in the window he'd propped open to let in a breeze because it'd just been summer! "Holy shit, cold!"
Alfred dashed to the window, slamming it shut with a full body shiver only to stare at the white covered streets beyond. Somehow, he knew it was January, that nothing special had happened since July, and now he was... back. Back from what? From where? Maybe Artie-
Wait, where was Arthur?
"Artie, babe, where are you?" he called out softly, pausing to listen. Nothing. "Arthur?"
He'd been about to call out again when there waas a squirming in his shorts pocket and then a muffled cursing. Alfred let out a huge sigh of relief and carefully reached his hand in, drawing out one ruffled and grumpy Brit.
"There you are," Alfred said, cupping Arthur in his hands and beaming down at him. "Yoou okay? Do you know what's going on? We've totally time traveled!"
"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, the tiny nation looked up at him before catching sight of the window. "What the bloody-"
"That's what I said," Alfred said with a pout.. He'd hoped that Arthur would know. "I guess it's just suddenly January then. Weird... Oh! I bet Tony knows! Come on, little dude's probably still in his room. Tony, hey, Tony!"
Arthur yelped as he suddenly had to cling to the other nation's hands, suddenly and literally carried along. "Hey, wait! Don't take me to that little bastard's room! He probably caused this in the first place!"
“Ha ha, don't be silly, he's my little buddy. Hey, Tony~!"
Thanks for the input, folks! So I decided to go ahead and make that side-blog. It can be found at ask-tiny-england-rp.tumblr.com. Nice and easy to remember, right? Doesn’t have to strictly follow the story line so far, and won’t influence it.
I’d like to do some RP with little Arthur here, and wondering if I should create an rp-specific sideblog off of this one, or if people would mind if I just did it here and tagged it? Opinions?
(Glad your back! ❤️) where you scared of America at first? Not scared as in 'don't hurt me scared' just that he might be rough with you
((ooc: Glad to be back! <3 Going to be doing rapid responses for a bit this evening.))
Arthur: Scared? Hardly. I’ve seen him drag around cars and toss bison through the air, but I’ve also seen him nurse baby birds back to health. The only time I’ve actually been in danger around him has been when he’s half asleep and his bloody glasses are missing.
Alfred, was it a strange feeling at first to hold Arthur? It was strange for me the first time I held a small person
Alfred: Dude, totally weird. Well, kinda. Always been able to pick the old man up, but not usually in one hand! But I got used to it, and it’s kinda... [Coughs.] Well, it’s kinda nice now.
Alfred, hero of the free world and generally amazing and good looking guy... was feeling nervous enough that he thought he might puke.
Arthur had elected to stay home with Frankie and Crumpet while he worked, so he didn't have to worry about anything happening to him. But that wasn't the problem. The problem came on his way home and had to figure out whether Arthur would rather have milk or dark chocolate, and if he'd accept either from him.
He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet in front of the display case, debating. One of those big huge heart boxes had been his first thought, but... well, he'd have ended up eating most of it. Maybe get one of those to share if Arthur said yes? Or to sulk with if he said no...
"Picking something out for your sweetheart?" the shopkeeper asked, smiling at him from over the counter.
Alfred couldn't help but to like the old woman and offered her a bright smile. "Hoping so. Haven't asked yet. I think... can I get one of the dark salted caramels wrapped up all pretty? And one of the big boxes in the window. And maybe one of the teddy bears? The little one with the hat and bow tie!"
The woman laughed at his enthusiasm and nodded, bustling about to put his order together. "Well then, all the luck to you. I'm sure with those gifts, he won't be able to resist a strapping young man like you."
"Here's hoping!" He could certainly use all the luck he could get!
All the way home, Alfred tried to imagine how the scene would go. Arthur would be sitting with Crumpet reading a book, all peaceful and comfortable and in a great mood. And then he'd surprise him with the chocolate and the teddy bear and Arthur would blush all pretty like the girls in Kiku's romance manga. He'd say yes of course, and then they'd curl up together to watch a movie. It'd be perfect!
Freshly pumped up and confident, he stepped up onto the porch and took a deep breath. This was it.
Crash.
What? Alfred couldn’t get his key in the lock and through the door fast enough. “Artie, is everything-”
Chaos reigned in the living room. Computer chair tipped over, books off the shelves, a vase shattered on the floor (the source of the crash, probably). Crumpet was puffed up and hissing from his spot on top of the bookcase, Frankie jumping about below trying to find a way up, and Arthur... Arthur was clinging to his collar for life.
“You bloody animal, stop moving and let me off!” Arthur shouted, following it up with a string of the unprintables as the cat made another jump for the entertainment center to try and get up. No one had ever noticed Alfred standing there dumbfounded.
But seeing Frankie gearing up for another jump with that tell-tale butt wiggle kicked him into action. He dumped his gifts on the sofa and dashed forward to grab him mid-flight, holding the wiggling cat close despite protests. “Arthur, are you alright?”
“About time you got home,” Arthur snapped at him, white-faced and hair even more wild and messy than usual. “What took you so long?”
Alfred swallowed, seeing his chances just crumble to pieces. “Sorry, I had an errand to run on the way home. You’re not hurt are you?” Holding onto Frankie with one arm, he offered a hand to the tiny man to help him off.
Climbing into the American’s hand, Arthur sat down and held onto his fingers as Frankie was put down. Instead of continuing his reign of fluffy terror, he just walked around Alfred’s feet in circles, rubbing against him. Figured.
“I’m not hurt,” Arthur said at last, peering down at the cat with a sour look. “Your fat beast of a cat decided he wanted to play tag, without consulting anyone else involved.”
“Heh, that’s Frankie for you,” Alfred said, rubbing his neck with a grimace. Maybe today wouldn’t be the best day to ask after all... The thought made his heart sink. “How about I make you a cup of tea to make up for it.”
Arthur let out a little huff. “That would be a nice place to start, thank you. So, what were you doing that kept you?”
“Um, just had a store to swing by,” he said, automatically glancing over to where he’d put the bear and chocolate box. Maybe he could hide them.
Or, at least he could have if Arthur hadn’t looked over too. The tiny man stared, blinking at it before looking up. “Alfred... what are those for?”
Damn. Alfred swallowed, finding that he couldn’t even make himself laugh it off and bluff. Not when Arthur was looking at him like that. “Well... they’re for you. I kind of had this whole thing planned, but, well, it looks like everything’s been screwed up now.”
“Planned out?” The Brit looked confused at first, but then that blush, the blush that Alfred had been imagining this whole day, started to rise up in his face. “Are you asking me out, Alfred F. Jones?”
Oh shit, the full name. Alfred started to sweat and numbly nodded his head. “I mean, if you want to give it a shot? We’ve known each other for a long, long time and I really like you and you’re really pretty and I feel like we’ve gotten a lot closer this year. So, want to?”
Arthur took a deep breath, looking over at the gifts and back again. “Tea first.”
“R-right, yes, tea,” Alfred stammered, feeling a little flicker of hope. It wasn’t a no! He turned on his heel to start towards the kitchen before Arthur stopped him with a hug on his sleave. “Yes?”
“Bring the presents,” Arthur said, looking away from him. “The bear is cute.”
Alfred’s grin could have powered all of New York. Hell yeah!
Arthur: There aren’t that many of mine here, but they did cast a few protection spells to help out. Little things to make it harder to get hurt. Being this size is rather dicey business after all!
And I can’t ask Alfred’s local spirits. Most of them... don’t like me much.
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