Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Faux Paw	By : Florville Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 3287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Monkey's Paw is property of WW Jacobs, and I only reference it in passing. Hetalia does not belong to me, and I do not make any money off the writing of this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
This chapter goes out to my friend Zid because she is awesome and entertains me far too much for my own good.

3

Matthew shivered at the clack-clack noise of his cloven hooves against the cool concrete floor of the aisle, flinching away from the two curious heads that poked out of their stalls to inspect him.

“It’s all right, lad,” Arthur soothed, glancing over his shoulder to see the way Canada was trying to press as close to the wall opposite his horses’ stalls as possible. “You’ve ridden horses most of your life, why are you afraid of them now?” he queried, one brow rising as he went over to him, reaching out and petting Canada between the eyes.

I’ve ridden them, yes, but…I’ve never interacted with them AS one. What if they don’t like me? Matthew fretted, although he leaned into the rubbing just underneath his forelock with a sigh of enjoyment.

“I’m not going to leave you alone with them,” England declared firmly, slipping his hand under Matthew’s jowls to rub and scratch in a manner he was accustomed to using on his own horses. “If you’re going for a jaunt in the pasture, I’ll make certain they’re either in their stalls or in a separate enclosure.”

Matthew had been melting into the attentions, but he pulled away at Arthur’s last words, ears tilting back as he averted his gaze. I’m sorry…I don’t mean to be such a burden…

“Nonsense,” England replied, motioning to an empty stall on the end and opening the door. “It’s no burden at all, lad. Not to me, anyway. Although I can’t imagine this is much fun for you…”

I don’t mind, Matthew replied as he stepped into the spacious stall, relieved to find that it was cleanly swept, free of spider webs and bedded down with fresh sawdust. Of course, he wasn’t going to say that the reason he didn’t mind was that this was the most attention England had paid to him in one sitting for quite some time…

Arthur watched him circle a few times and inspect every nook and cranny of the stall with a faint hint of a smile, always having been amused by Matthew’s oddly fastidious nature. Of course, he was a fastidious person himself, but usually wasn’t as obsessive about it. “Satisfactory?”

It’s nice…and…comfy, Canada responded, then stood facing Arthur, his head lowering slightly. So I’ll be sleeping out here alone, then?

England blinked, then blushed awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Er…well, yes…that would be the arrangement, I believe…” Dear lord, why did he feel guilty for saying that? Probably because of the look Matthew was giving him, but it wasn’t like the boy could sleep indoors like that! And England was a little too old to sleep out in a barn, he’d be stiff for days if he even tried it…

Do you think…you’ll be able to find a way to change me back?

Returning to himself at the sight of that worried gaze, Arthur smiled reassuringly and reached out to pet Canada’s cheek. “Of course. It’s just a matter of searching through some magical tomes. It might take a day or two, but I assure you, I have the answer somewhere.”

Canada lifted his head over Arthur’s shoulder and used his chin to tug England against his broad chest, lifting a foreleg to try and hug him and putting it down when he realised he wouldn’t be able to lift it high enough. Thank you, England…thank you for being so kind and patient with me…

“Er…not at all,” Arthur mumbled awkwardly, patting Matthew’s shoulder, noting the movement of his front leg and smiling a little in spite of himself. At least the lad was seeing the downsides of not having a human body… He gave in and looped his arms loosely around Canada’s neck; after all, it wasn’t every equine that allowed you to hug them, and Canada was warm and smelled quite lovely. “We’ll figure something out, Matthew. You needn’t fret.”

*

After poring over his spell books and grimoires for over four hours, at which point he began to catch himself nodding, Arthur decided it was time to retire for the evening. He nearly tripped over something on the way out of his library, tensing for a moment before he realised that there was only one talking polar bear in the world, and it was the one attached to his former Dominion. “Ah…Kumajirou, what are you doing up this late?”

“Looking for someone…that blonde guy who feeds me…”

“That would be Canada,” England replied in a tone that gently chided the bear for being so forgetful, even though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Canada got the bear’s name wrong just as often as the bear forgot Canada’s name, so he supposed their odd friendship worked, in a way. “He’s sleeping in the stable tonight, due to…unforeseen circumstances,” England explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh. Well…I’m hungry.” The bear plopped himself down and peered up at England pointedly. “You’re the sexy eyebrows guy he likes, so I guess I’ll let you feed me instead, until he gets back.”

“Oi, I have a name, you know!” Arthur protested, flabbergasted at the bear’s presumptuousness. Assuming he’d feed him as if he were some bloody royal pet! “You can call me England, thank you very much,” he muttered peevishly as he turned and stalked toward Canada’s guest room, nearly tripping over his feet when his brain processed something, and he turned to look at Kumajirou dubiously. “Wait, what did you say about my eyebrows?”

“I didn’t say anything about them.”

“You said ‘sexy eyebrows’ or something of the sort,” Arthur prompted, wondering if he’d been hearing things.

“No, HE calls you sexy eyebrows,” the bear corrected him, waddling along and nosing his way into Canada’s room. “I don’t think you’re sexy at all. You don’t even have fur.”

Arthur stood in the doorway, blinking incredulously as he turned the words over in his head. Then, realising that he should probably retrieve the bear’s food from the mini-fridge before he toppled it over, he hurried into the room.

*

Finally retiring around midnight (after feeding Canada’s bear), England curled up under the covers and closed his eyes, the day’s events playing through his head as he tried to doze off.

I’m only like this with you, Sir…

…the one person who matters to me…

…sleeping out here alone…

Arthur groaned as Matthew’s various comments played back through his mind in that sinfully dulcet voice of his, and he rolled onto his back, glaring at the canopy of his four-poster bed. He had nothing to feel guilty about; Canada had done this to himself! It served him right to sleep in a barn stall for being silly enough to wish on a monkey’s paw when he knew from the story that it could only bring bad news!

…nothing to lose…

But Canada had plenty to lose! Why on Earth would he say such a ridiculous thing, anyway? Arthur rubbed his temples, his analytical mind refusing to let him sleep until he’d figured out the why of it all. Matthew said he had nothing to lose by wishing, which logically implied that by wishing he had everything to gain. But what did he gain, in the end?

…never be called “America” again…never get scolded or yelled at in his place…you’d see me, and know it was me, instead of mistaking me for somebody else…or simply not noticing me at all…

England sighed, a hint of guilt creeping into his expression as he folded his hands over his chest. He hadn’t realised it bothered Matthew that much…that he mistook him for America so often. Although, when he did, it was usually when he was cross about something. Poor lad…and yet it didn’t seem to bother Canada when his bear constantly forgot who he was. Why was that?

Recalling Kumajirou’s behaviour earlier, Arthur realised that perhaps it was because even if Kuma forgot Canada’s name, he never forgot him. When Matthew was out of sight, he wasn’t out of mind…even if it was only because the bear was hungry or bored. Everyone else…well, they just tended to forget the quiet nation, didn’t they?

I’ll be sleeping out here alone, then?

England groaned in resignation, throwing back the covers and sitting up, sighing and raking a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Bloody hell,” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and reaching for his clothes.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Faux Paw