A Whole New World

The night air stank of the musky scent of wet wood and a muddy ground ravaged by winds and rain. On top of that the faint fragrance of lukewarm tea mingled with the crisp brittleness of old parchment and yellowing pages. A bright flash of light illuminated the otherwise dark bedroom, and twin squeals sounded as England felt his shirt stretch further, tugged by two trembling balls trying to bury themselves into his side.

Trying to hide a chuckle at the predictability of young children, Arthur patted both the America Ball and the Canada Ball, and tried his best to sit up with dignity. "Well. I'll go get a book then."

"What! No!" The panicky grapple from the Canada Ball was overwhelmed by the America Ball's sharp tug downwards. England fell back onto the bed, limbs awry as he bit back the cuss word so readily on his tongue. "You can't leave us here!" Came the teary protest as America tightened his grip on the shirt (the poor, poor, shirt that would probably lose its shape after tonight).

"Didn't you want a bedtime story? It's not going to take me too long to fetch a book-" More pressure on his shirt, followed by much shaking of heads. England sighed defeatedly, "Alright alright. I'm not going anywhere." He patted both of them comfortingly on the back, and both balls slowly, hesitantly unfurled.

"Really?"

"But we still get a bedtime story?"

"Well..."

"You promised!"

England laughed, pulling the two of them closer, "Yes, you still get your bedtime story."

"Without a book?" Canada questioned.

"I'll just have to make one up won't I?"

"Cool!" America bounced slightly on the bed and shuffled closer, "You can do that?"

"Hah," England grinned, tucking the covers around the two of them before settling down into his pillow. "Who do you think I am. I am the master of all bedtime stories! This one will be a special one, just for the two of you."

"What's it about?"

"Hmm... of course, it's about a brave, charming and bright young man."

"A hero?"

"Not yet. But you see, this young man was out on a journey..."

"To slay a dragon?"

"To save a princess?"

England chortled, "Unfortunately, no, he was out on a journey to-"

-That night, America dreamed. He wouldn't remember it, in all of it's glorious, sparkling detail, but he dreamed, and that's what was important. What would forever be important to-

"-TO SAVE YOU FROM THE EVIL TEA-DRINKING WICKED STEP-DRAGON!" Alfred heard himself announce, voice full of pomp and valor and he found himself seated on a beautiful white stallion, legs finally able to reach the stirrups. He was dressed in the most regal of ceremonial robes, all navy-blue, white, and shining gold buttons which glinted in the sun.

"SO MY PRINCESS," He continued, voice carrying in the perfect, warm, summer breeze, "LET DOWN YOUR HAIR, AND LET US DEPART!" The words seemed familiar, somehow, copied off a page of a fairytale book. And yet they seemed to sound perfectly normal at the same time, coming out of his mouth as Alfred looked up to the single, tall tower before him.

A blond head peeked out of the window at the top, and Alfred recognized those eyebrows.

"A-Arthur?" He asked, unsure and confused, because he was pretty sure that in all of the stories he had read, the really super dashing prince always saves a princess from whatever trouble she was in. But Arthur's... Arthur, his mind flounders. He's not a princess! B-But as a hero, I should still save him and-

And before Alfred could think about it for any longer, Arthur was there, next to him, in the same shirt, vest and breeches he always wore, smiling up at him and laughing in that same way he always did. "Alfred!" He grinned, broadly. "You're here! You came to meet me, you really didn't have to."

Alfred smiles at the familiarity of those words, and how awesome this situation is, because secretly, he had always wondered what happened exactly if you didn't like the princess you happened to rescue. He'd met girls in the villages, and there had been this one girl who always kicked him in the shins and stuck her tongue out at him, and Alfred had always quietly worried about the day when he does go rescue a princess, and what if she hates me or what if I don't like her?

But in the face of Arthur, grinning up at him, arms out-stretched for a hug like he always did when they meet again, all the worries disappeared. Because who wants a princess when you can have Arthur who always had biscuits and smelt like warm laundry. And besides, he would probably be a ton better than some girl at helping you slay a tea-drinking wicked step-dragon.

Alfred grins again, and effortlessly helps Arthur up onto the horse to sit behind him. Arthur's arms wrap around him, and Alfred feels safe, as much as he knows that it's the prince's duty to make the princess safe and all that, but this is Arthur, and so it's alright.

"Hang on!" He cries, tugging at the horses reigns, and they gallop away from the tower, across the moat.

He was pretty sure that they go defeat the scary tea-drinking wicked step-dragon which had been guarding Arthur's castle after that, and there was something about seven dwarves guarding a glass slipper, and eventually they kinda like Alfred's horse a lot, so he gives them that in thanks. Then they take this really amazing magic carpet, swooping over huge seas with rolling waves like those in the books, and enormous grassy green lands dotted with flowers and people, back to Alfred's castle.

And he's really sure they lived happily ever after.

A/N:

Yeah, sorry, we couldn't resist starting this one up once we had a name for it. There's not much to be said here, without giving too much away, other than what's stated in the summary. So we'll just see how this goes yeah? Expect a series of drabbles, all a little random, a little not-so-random. You'll see 8) Thanks for reading, comments, as usual, are loved.