Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

A single ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, causing an almost uncharacteristic smile to spread across the young woman’s face. She sat back in her seat, and watched as fellow Londoners went to and fro on their business. Turning back to her novel, she once again became oblivious to the outside world, finding the words of the late Miss Austen far more entertaining than the chaos of the city.

She was completely unaware of a pair of emerald eyes watching her from across the way. He was watching her with a straight face, one that caused many passerby to question. He smiled and nodded politely whenever he took notice, but for the most part, his attention was entirely focused on (Y/n), the beauty that had stolen his heart.

Shakespeare has made me out to be a dreamer… No one should feel the pangs of love this quickly. How did she accomplish it? I have only known her for several weeks now… How did you do it, (Y/n)? The man smiled softly, and heaved a soft sigh. Though I suspect, at this point, it is not so much how you managed it, but how I act on my feelings… Is it too soon? Will she accept me? She doesn’t know who I truly am as of yet… How will you react, (Y/n)? Will you run like the others? God, I hope not…

He made his way through the crowd, his thoughts entirely consumed by the image of her: the way her (e/c) eyes sparkled with delight and fascination with her book, the way her (h/c) locks were coming undone, and that she did not seem to notice. He had fallen for every aspect of her, and he was terrified of admitting it. She would never accept me… Not when she discovers who I truly am. What I am…

She remained completely fixated on her novel. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Oh, darling Darcy… Why must you be within the pages of a novel, and not amongst my reality?

She was distracted by a shadow, and her eyes shot up. Her breath caught for a moment. “Oh! Mr. Kirkland!” Her eyes flashed to her pocketwatch, and he smirked slightly as her brow furrowed. Her eyes met his again, and once again his face was expressionless. “Right on time, as always.”

He smiled and bowed his head, sitting across from her. “As always, Miss (L/n). I am not one to keep a lovely young lady waiting.”

She rolled her eyes, and smiled slightly, putting her book in her bag. “Quiet, sir. Flattery will get you nowhere.”

He smiled, but bit his lip. “Perhaps…” We shall see, (Y/n)…

The meeting lasted for several hours, and the two conversed on many matters, such as the most recent killing by the infamous Jack. He seemed concerned for her safety, but she quickly assured him that there was nothing to fear. As the sun set over the Thames, he offered to escort her home.

On the way, she seemed to notice he was thinking extra hard about something. Well now… We can’t have that…

“Arthur?” His eyes widened at the use of his real name coming from her lips, but he smiled anyway, and turned his attention to her.

“Yes, (Y/n)?”

“You seem far more pensive than normal… What is the matter?”

His smile all but disappeared. “There is something I have been toiling with… Something to tell you that may alter our friendship.”

She lightly grasped his arm, breaking all of the boundaries that she had been taught to obey. Screw Society! He’s my friend. “You can tell me. You’re my friend. I wouldn’t betray your trust.”

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. A light blush tinged her cheeks as she took notice of how bright his eyes were, and how handsome he truly was. “Very well. (Y/n), this may very well ruin your opinion of me…”

“Try me.”

He paused, and turned to her, bright green eyes meeting her wide and confused ones. “(Y/n)… You may think I am mad, but I must be forward about this. I am not human.”

Her brow lifted slightly, and she did slightly question his sanity. “If you’re not human, then what are you?” Thoughts of many of the mythical creatures and the Fey flew through her mind, but she quickly pushed them aside.

“I’m a nation, (Y/n). I represent the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. However, I myself an England. Wales, Scotland, and Ireland are my siblings.”

She said nothing. Her face lacked all emotion, and he was terrified that he could not even read her normally revealing (e/c) eyes. He mentally began to panic. Finally, she cocked her head, and life returned to her face.

“If you really are England…”

His eyebrow lifted in curiousity. “Yes?”

“Is Francis France?”

Arthur mentally facepalmed. “Yes. He is France.”

She grinned. “And suddenly so much is becoming clear!”

He was shocked. “You’re not angry?”

A giggle escaped her, and she wasn’t certain who was more surprised by it. “Why would I be angry… England?”

He released the breath he hadn’t been realizing he had been holding. “I’m not quite sure.”

“However…” Her tone stopped him, and he immediately frowned. “You now have to walk me through all of British history.”

A soft smile came to his lips, and his green eyes sparkled. “I have no qualms with that, poppet.”

The clicking of heels and soft-spoken words lingered in the air behind the two wanderers as the rain began to make its downward journey. England was at peace once again.