Chaos, constant threat of death not only for the humans living within the nations but the nations themselves. Each day was another chance of attack or the opportunity to misstep igniting some form of anger that could turn a hand against those you have counted as allies. In all it was difficult to claim one was an ally for more than a moment, even for the Reich the held power over even the independent nations there seemed to be the constant need to silence any uprising before it could become more than a thought. When it came to the issues within the United Kingdom it seemed only Arthur faced the constant threat brought on the actions of his siblings, the family that everyone seemed to believe runs under the thumb of the blonde. The inner works of the family seemed to be kept to themselves not wish anyone to know if Arthur held the reigns or if his brothers shared control.
Some might find similarities between the families of the German Reich and the British union, few would notice that the years of bickering had come to an end years ago making an understanding develop. Arthur would be their pretend figure head but in the end he no longer could use his siblings as a footstool. Hamish could only speak for himself but his relationship with Arthur had bettered over the years making it unlikely to find the two waring over an argument. Hamish had become protective of Arthur making him likely to bare his teeth at anyone that were deemed a threat against the family. While the relationship between the eldest and youngest seemed to improve it was difficult to say if the same was true for Alwyn. Unlike Hamish they spent far longer under Arthur’s thumb, having everything even his own language stripped away while Hamish continued to challenge the younger male. It was difficult for him to say if wounds had been healed or if they were salted with the need to operate as a family.
The night had been uncharacteristically quiet, something in the air brought concern to Hamish. Every night he left his door open inviting in anyone that would sneak his comfort or found need for him during the late hours. It was the same for when he found himself busy in his office, a closed door usually meant Hamish wasn’t there or something was wrong. Allowing his feet to lead him the ginger found himself standing before Alwyn’s room. The personification of the nation of Wales, one of the youngest of the British nations and by far the most gentle of the group. Not daring to knock his thin fingers wrapped around the knob permitting himself entrance into the private area of the Welsh boy. Boundaries were not something Hamish was familiar with making him care little about asking permission before he acted.
Far too often Alwyn was forgotten but yet Hamish maintained a close relationship with the youth, always seeming to notice when he entered the room even when others seemed to overlook the male if they even knew his name. One day they would learn those you don’t notice hold a power that is something strength would never grant.
Seating himself on the edge of the bed he stroked his fingers over the smaller male’s frame making it known who entered without a single word. “Whit did he dae?” It was far too easy to know what happened to Alwyn but yet Hamish would make him say it, pain was far harder to ignore when you were force to vocalize it. Speaking the sin committed against you made it impossible to convince yourself it was a dream. It was real.
Chaos and tension was a harsh thing to deal with. People dealt with these two extreme things in different ways..Smoking was one way, to help ease the nerves. The humans living in their countries tended to take this route, or drinking..which was quick and quenched a thirst while also alleviating the stress and tension off ones shoulders. However, there was a down side to this wonderous drink..that usually made men and women forget themselves, or lash out... Countries like him...well, they weren't all that different actually. Since the Reich had..won, they were very tentative allies, Alwyn experienced this stress first hand. He felt the strain on his own body, and the chaotic thoughts of worry for the future..worry of what was to come. The Welshman could see the toll it took on his...family. On himself even...but his problems weren't with being seen or bothered by their so called ally, but with being forgotten.
But that didn't matter...He knew that he was still a country after all, and besides he was still needed. Even if it was to help aleviate some of the stress off his dear little..brother.
Arthur, he knew, was stressed and hid his own turmoil well. The blonde thought no one could see, but Alwyn knew that he was trying to keep it together. Underneath a fake air of calm and collectives, along with a well packed drawer of cigs, and a cabinet with strong drink, Arthur pulled off the image. Usually, the blonde didn't drink more than he could handle. However, on the times he did begin to hit the liquid heavy, the Brit got emotional and lashed out. Alwyn knew it wasn't good for the man to be in that state. Usually he just tried to calm him down, or at least lead him to the bedroom to sleep. Most times it worked, Arthur was tired and would pass out...but other times...
Alwyn winced slightly, ignoring the insistent sting in his lower half. Bugger it, this hurts...I wish he wouldn't be so rough. The other times, Arthur got rough and sexual...A scenario that wasn't unusual for them. Their familial ties had been obscure once they became adults. Entering into some...distorted relationship that left Alwyn wondering if they were lovers, freinds with benefits or just...a momentary thing. Not all the encounters happened this way...well, okay a lot did but on rare occasions Arthur could be gentle. His eyes grew sad at the thought. Those times are too far in between these times. Closing his eyes, the Welshman sighed and and pressed his face into his pillow. But even then I have to leave, don't I? Arthur couldn't handle knowing, or facing this.
It hurt..his heart ached knowing this, always leaving the Brit's bed with a feeling of...shame? Heart break? Alwyn wasn't sure, but he knew that he always hated this routine. Honestly, he loved Arthur but...He wasn't sure how much he could take sneaking out in the middle of the night, and washing away evidence to pretend things were normal in the morning. Before those thought could over take him, he heard the soft click of his door opening. A feeling of nervousness went through him, keeping his eyes shut as he wondered if maybe one of the younger residents had...heard anything. Alwyn didn't want them- At the familiar weight on the edge of the bed, and the touch of familiar, thin -but comforting- fingers running along his side. Hamish... Scotland, or Hamish...one of the constants in his life. A comfort. The other reason he didn't fear being forgotten, because the Scotsman always remembered him. Slowly, he turned towards and opened his eyes, smiling softly. "Hamish..." At the question he looked down, the sadness he'd been pushing back resurfaced. He hated admitting it, but still the words came in a mumble. "He...was upset, you know how he gets when drinking too much." he sighed, reaching behind to rub his own lower back. "It ...hurt. I should have...he needed comfort, I just wish he'd have been a little more gentle."
