A Trustworthy Pirate

By xmystorytime

Summary: When it comes to magic, things never quite work out as planned. When it comes to America, things definitely don't go as planned. Therefore, put together, it's no surprise chaos is the result. The fairies accidentally send America and Canada back in time to the end of sixteenth century England, where the Anglo-Spanish War is in full swing, the country is thriving under 'Good Queen Bess' and the French are suffering. What more could you ask for?

Warnings: Pirates. Language. Francis.

Ships: None.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, the one to worship would be Hidekazu Himaruya. Please treat him carefully - you don't want him broken and incapable of creating more Hetalia, right?

A/N (19/04/11) (date/month/year)

This story has now been rewritten to be much better than it was before, and thus the next chapter is also in the works.

Therefore, you better enjoy the new polished version, savvy?

Today was a no-good very bad day.

'Bloody brat!' England snarled, slamming the hallway door shut behind him. He paused only to yank off his coat and dump it on the floor before continuing through to the small kitchen and collapsing in a worn-out chair. Moments later he leapt to his feet again and started pacing, hands twitching and fingers curling in the way he imagined they'd look wrapped around a certain nation's neck.

He swore again, loudly, and turned to kick the cabinet, biting back a cry when pain shot up his foot.

The pain brought him back to reality; as it dulled, so did his anger. Feeling drained, he fell back into the chair and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders slumped. He knew he probably looked the very picture of defeat – oh, if only America could see him! He would probably laugh himself silly to see his pitiful former guardian so weak.

England wearily rubbed his forehead, letting out a heavy sigh. He knew he should be preparing to head home and not sulking in the hotel room – he had the many missed calls from his boss to prove it – but he was incapable of doing anything productive at this moment in time. He couldn't stop thinking about his former charge's words and actions, the humiliation when he'd been incapable of stopping him.

'England?' he blinked and looked up. The fairies hovered around him, concern on their faces, and he summoned a weak smile for them. The unicorn stood by the door, ready to dash at the first sign of danger.

'I'm fine,' he told them, straightening in his seat and beckoning for the unicorn to join him.

'What happened?' the blue fairy hovered in front of him while the others settled on the table. 'You haven't come back this angry since the time France tried to bu-' England grunted, not wanting to remember that time, and she fell silent. The unicorn finally joined him and England ran a hand through its mane, relaxing instinctively.

'It was – I didn't – ah,' he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. 'Looking back, I probably made a big deal out of nothing. With the way my government currently is, I'm more on edge. Plus, he usually pisses me off anyway…'

'Oh, so it was America then?' the fairies shared knowing looks.

England blushed. 'W-what? No, you've got the wrong ide-'

'But he's the only one you defend like this, even if he's in the wrong,' the green fairy interrupted, moving to hover next to the blue. 'Don't try to deny it!' she waggled her finger at him and England shut his mouth, knowing better than to directly argue with them when they were like this.

They were such mischievous creatures, always causing some kind of chaos. It was usually harmless or done with the best of intentions, but it didn't always go to plan. One had to be cautious.

The mythical creatures huddled in a circle. The red fairy was the only one who didn't join in; she settled on his shoulder and placed a fragile, tiny hand to his cheek. He lent into her touch slightly.

'What did he do this time?' she asked softly.

'Ah, well, I suppose it began with the usual…'


He drummed his fingers on the table, glancing between the chatting nations and the empty seat at the head of the table. The meeting was meant to start quite awhile back but they were still missing someone. Given that their host – that is, the one whose country they were in – was also the missing nation, it would have been impossible to start the meeting without him.

'It's been almost twenty minutes,' Germany broke the silence with a look at the doors. 'I know it's unusual, but if we wish to achieve anything today then we should-' he broke off as the doors burst open.

America, the eighth and final nation in this meeting, swaggered in with a big grin. He was talking loudly on his mobile to someone and didn't acknowledge any of the other nations as he made his way to his seat and flung himself down, automatically rocking back and resting his feet on the table.

'I know right? It's fucking pathetic!' he laughed. 'It was only a joke, yeah? They way overreacted!'

Germany and England shared an irritated look. France sighed heavily, resting his chin on his palm and gazing at America with half-lidded eyes, while Japan shifted uncomfortably on his seat. Italy didn't even look up from doodling and Russia was smiling, but it was noticeably colder. They waited longer for America to end his call and start the meeting, but he just kept talking.

Eventually, England realised he would have to be the one to sort this out. He cleared his throat and glared at the boy. He got a glare back but, thankfully, America hung up and crossed his arms over his chest.

'Jeez, don'tcha know it's rude to interrupt a guy's call England?' he demanded.

'Don't you realise it's rude to be extremely late for a meeting in your own country?' England countered.

America shrugged, 'Eh, I knew you guys would wait so I took my time. Besides, this isn't even that important, so…' England scowled fiercely. America guffawed. 'Nice unibrow old man!'

The only thing that stopped England from leaping out his seat and punching the git was the strong hand on his wrist. He shot a dark look at Germany, who ignored it.

'America…' the strict man began disapprovingly, but America leapt to his feet.

'Alright!' he clapped his hands together. 'I'm going first because I'm the awesomeist of us all, okay?' though it was obvious he didn't expect an answer. He pulled a few crumpled notes out of his pocket, hastily done and England caught a glimpse of some kind of doodle on one. Sweet wrappers fell to the ground but America didn't even appear to notice.

The rest of the nations were too surprised to protest.

'So, here's us,' he held up a crude drawing of what might have been Earth, if looked at sideways and the only land mass was America, 'and here's space, right?' Oh God, it was one of those speeches.

England dropped his head in his hands, making no effort to hide his action. The last thing he needed right now was another one of America's ridiculous suggestions. Thus far this meeting had been a waste of time - time he desperately needed.

Elections were going on at home. They always involved a lot of work for a nation, torn between candidates and running back and forth, but this one was even more stressful because it looked like it was heading for a hung parliament. If so, that would be a disaster for England. He would be pulled in all directions, caught between his people's desires, and left in a state of limbo.

'Next!' he interrupted. His voice was muffled but the word still clear. He lifted his head, catching sight of the relieved expressions on other nations before they were hidden away.

'But I didn't even get to the best part! Why do you gotta interrupt me anyway?'

'Because what you're planning to say is nothing different to last time and thus still equally as ludicrous!' he snapped and America scratched at his nose, looking a little sheepish and avoiding England's stare. England narrowed his eyes. 'Did you even prepare for this meeting at all?'

'I meant to!' the other defended. 'Honest! I just completely forgot about the time and then stuff came up and before I knew it…' he shrugged helplessly.

England ground his teeth together. 'Does anyone have anything sensible to say?' he directed this to the other G8 members, but they all shook their heads. 'So, no one has anything new to say other than America?' he checked desperately. The silence continued and he dropped his head in his hands again. It really was a waste of time. Damn it all.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, the third time in the past hour, and he bit back a curse.

'I suggest we adjourn, then,' Germany stated, getting to his feet. Italy automatically followed.

'Wait, you can't go! I haven't even-' but America was ignored.

With immense relief, everyone except America left the stuffy room. England was the third to leave and had just started to call back his boss when the phone was snatched out of his hand. He glared at America.

'May I have my phone back?' he asked, trying to reign in his temper before he said something he'd regret.

'You interrupted my speech, I'll interrupt your call,' America's words were light but his eyes were cold. It was a look usually directed only at Russia, so when England was the recipient it took him by surprise. He stared up at America who used his height to hold the phone out of reach. England briefly considered trying to jump and get it, but suspected that was what America wanted.

Not in the mood to be picked on by the new school bully, in one swift movement he stepped back and kicked America's elbow – causing him to swear in surprise – before catching his phone and walking away. He didn't get far before a hand gripped his arm and yanked him back around.

America scowled down at him, quite intimidating, but England refused to be cowed. Even if his arm hurt like hell.

'What is with you today?' he demanded, trying to tear his arm free. 'You're not acting like yourself at all!'

'What's with me? What's with you?' America retorted, tightening his grip, and England couldn't stop a wince. 'You're acting like such a bastard. What happened, did that stick up your ass get shoved up even further or what?'

'What's that meant to mean?' he demanded, taking a step back in the hope distance would hide his racing heart. 'I don't have a stick up my arse you git! If anyone's has, it's you! Twenty minutes late, ignoring others in favour of a personal call, littering, not preparing for your own meeting and bloody let go of my arm you bastard!'

The other glowered but finally let go, holding his hands up placating, 'Whoa whoa, England, dude! It was just a joke! Man, with the way you over-react it's no wonder no one wants to hang around with a stuffy old man like you!' Cradling his arm to his chest, England wondered when this had become such a regular occurrence he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it anymore.

'Ah, mon Amérique, I thought I heard your dulcet tones,' France appeared out of nowhere and drew England to his chest. 'Did Angleterre forget to tell you? Why, just last night we-'

'F-France!' England elbowed him before he could continue, coincidentally forcing the frog to let go on his waist, and then moved to a few metres away hoping the distance would hide his red cheeks. His sore arm throbbed from the movement but he didn't let it show. Unfortunately, it seemed his reaction had supported rather than protested France's claim and, for the first time, America looked apprehensive.

'You two… ah…?' he blinked. 'But I thought you guys...' he looked between them.

The very thought he was in a relationship with that frog finally pushed England over the edge.

'You know what? Fuck you both. I have better things to do,' he made a quick escape, hoping the hot anger would replace the hurt he felt deep inside.

[End Flashback]

The kitchen was too quiet once he stopped talking. His faithful friends had gathered around and nuzzled him, providing comfort, and he couldn't keep a warm smile off of his face. He was touched these pure creatures, full of life and love, would care for someone as decrepit and laden with misery as him.

'Is your arm better now?' the red fairy asked, fluttering lower to it. England laughed.

'I've had much worse,' he reassured her, before pulling up his sleeve and inspecting the hand-print bruise on his arm. America was really strong, huh…

'He's a jerk,' the green fairy scowled.

'And too arrogant,' the blue fairy chimed in.

'Everyone becomes arrogant when they're in charge, though…' the red fairy pointed out quietly, shooting a side glance at England. The nation winced.

'This is different!' the green argued. 'The world was a wretched place back then, barren and cold, and friends became enemies in the blink of an eye. You had to be strong and prove you could defend yourself otherwise you would be stabbed in the back at first opportunity. England had no choice!'

'Please, don't make excuses for me,' England cut in. He was touched she would defend him so, but they all knew England hadn't acted with that reason in mind – at least, not entirely.

'Well, he's still a nuisance!' the green fairy stomped her foot and a sprinkle of pixie dust fell on England's knee. It began to rise off the floor and he kept it pressed down with two fingers, smiling softly.

'Maybe we should have some fun with him…' the blue fairy hummed. The green fairy brightened.

'Good idea! Hey, let's start with-'

'Peace my dears,' England interrupted, his smile widening at their attempt to make him feel better, and was about to stand up when his phone rang. With a sigh, he pulled it out his jacket pocket and answered without bothering to look at the ID. It was probably his boss – the man had been trying to get in contact for several hours, after all. 'Yes sir?'

'Sir? Mon ami, you are as kinky as ever non?' England slapped his forehead. He could not deal with the Frog right now. 'What say you we get together for a little… têtê-a-têtê?'

'The only reason I haven't hung up yet is because it takes too much effort to press the button,' he warned.

'You tease! Raising my hopes and then dashing them-'


'Oui, oui,' France sighed. 'Angleterre, I spoke to Amérique after you left and I did not like what I see. He is arrogant, cruel. He looked at me like I was below him, me! I 'ave been through more zan he could imagine, 'elped him vhen no one would and 'e has the gall to-' so France had noticed too. It would have made England feel better, but having French babbled into one's ear was enough to sour anyone's mood. He scowled.

'You're speaking French again,' he interrupted, picking at a few marks on his shirt.

'I apologise for speaking in my own language.'

England smiled faintly, bringing his nails up to the light. 'Sarcasm doesn't suit your tongue, Frog.'

'Non? Ah, what a shame. I guess only those who have an ugly language can master the art.'

'Fuck off,' he said flatly, staring at his nails in fascination. Why hadn't he ever noticed how battered they were before? They were kept short but that didn't seem to make a difference to the dirt underneath them. He peered at the nail on his forefinger. Just where on earth had it come from?

'Angleterre, what do we do?' he blinked, finally remembering he was on the phone to France.

Well, it was hardly his fault he forgot. There were far more interesting things he could be doing right now.

'What can we do?' he replied, pulling a face. 'He will eventually fall, like others have done,' like we did, he didn't say but they both heard, 'and then we will pick up the pieces and be on our merry way once more.'

'I suppose,' France replied sadly. 'It is a shame, non? He was our hope, he and Canada…'

'Who?' England queried, though he wasn't really paying attention and thus missed France's answer. Instead he thought back to when they'd first discovered the New World. It had been full of riches, with vast canyons and fields that went on without end – such a pure, glorious world, hardly touched by the pollution of what was now Europe.

The New World had been a New Start, for all of them. That was why they'd all fought so hard for colonies; Spain, the Netherlands, Sweden, France, Russia…

So much for that plan.

Maybe… no, almost certainly, it was his fault America was like this. He had spoilt the lad, tried to keep him hidden from the others, safe in his house. He hadn't wanted the innocent boy to suffer invasion like he had, like so many others had, but… it had backfired. He had felt smothered; he had rebelled against his captor. Years on, America was paying for England's own inadequacy…

'Ah, you are so arrogant, oui? It is such a pain…'

'W-what?' he spluttered. Where had that come from?

'Thinking it is your fault he is like this. You're hardly responsible for him, sourcils – he got rid of you centuries ago,' England felt hot anger and deep sadness whip through him, but remained silent. France's tone wasn't mocking, or insulting, he was stating a fact. 'He took on too much power with too much inexperience.'

Still, England made a mental note to punch him when they next met.

'How did you-?'

'We have known each other a long time, non? Ah, but you were so much cuter back then!' France said wistfully. England glowered at the wall and was about to snap out an insult when he continued. 'Are you busy ton-?'

He flung the mobile away as if it had burnt him and eyed it suspiciously. It was only when it started vibrating again – the red button must have been pressed when it hit the ground - he realised how ridiculous he was acting. He inched across the room and dubiously bent over so he could see the ID. France, again.

The other couldn't get at him through the mobile though, right?

Then again, it was France…

'Yes?' he said, once he'd realised he currently looked like he was scared of France. Pfft, like that would ever happen.

'You wound me so! I am ready to cry a river full of tears! Does our love mean nothing to you?'

'Not in the slightest.'

'Oh, I feel so betrayed! I cannot take ze misery; I suppose I shall have to drink zese bottles by myself…'

England tensed, 'Ah, let's not be so hasty old boy. You know how you get when you're drunk. Perhaps I should come over, and make sure you don't hurt yourself…' he hadn't got hammered at a bar for weeks due to all his work. His boss could wait one more day.

'Non, non, you have broken my heart! I shall go find Prussia and we shall have a fabulous time drowning our sorrows,' the other sniffed. England panicked.

'What was I supposed to think? When you normally ask someone to stay the night -' he broke off at the deep, rich laughter from the other end of the phone and scowled. Of course, France was screwing with him. However, the thought of alcohol… 'Where are you staying? I'll come join you once I've changed,' he eyed his crumpled shirt with disgust.

His sorry appearance was France's fault too.

France was still chuckling as he answered, 'That hotel we were in years ago.'

'That narrows it down so much, thank you.'

'The one where Prussia and I fooled Spain into thinking the two Italys wanted to have a threesome, so he ran to their room only to get the wrong room and be chased and berated by that old woman,' France said gleefully.

England snickered, 'Oh, that one. His face was as red as his tomatoes for weeks! Well, I'm on my way.'

'Then au revoir, I shall count minutes until you arrive-' England hung up before he could hear any more ridiculous comments.

He shook his head and got to his feet, stretching his back and wincing when it cracked. Only after he stopped did he realise his fairy friends had disappeared. He turned to his unicorn, who had settled faithfully beside his feet whilst he was on the phone and now looked at him expectantly.

'Do you know where they went?' he asked. The unicorn butted his hand. 'Ah, I see. I hope they aren't doing anything too bad to him…'

But little did he know just what his friends, who were sick of seeing him so hurt by America, would do.


The three fairies were several miles away, in a McDonalds, watching the world superpower scoff down several burgers. Opposite him sat his brother, Canada, but it was as if the nation wasn't there at all – he certainly didn't have any of America's attention, anyway.

'What are you planning?' the red fairy asked, turning to her siblings. The other two didn't reply, too busy watching America.

'How can anyone eat so many hamburgers?' the blue fairy wondered with wide eyes.

'Well, if all he eats is junk it's no surprise that's what comes out,' the green fairy scowled and then moved to the meal on the table. Her plan was to mess with the food and scare the nation – they all knew about his fear of the supernatural – but he ate too fast for her to keep up. Put-out, she rejoined the other two.

'New plan!' the blue fairy shouted and she huddled together with the green.

The red fairy sighed and flew down, hovering in front of the blond's eyes and searching for something that would redeem himself. Her heart ached as he looked straight through her.

Those who do not believe cannot see, after all.

That was why she wasn't going to stop this unless it went too far. America had hurt her Dear One, the one who smiled at her, listened to her, when everyone else looked the other way. No matter how busy he was, he always made time for her. That was why, even though he had grown bitter and sad and at one point cruel, she would stay with him. All of her kind would.

He would always be theirs to cherish.

'I hope you come to your senses sooner rather than later,' she whispered, placing her hands on his nose. 'I may not like you but England does. Seeing you sad makes him sad, so, even though you hurt him…' America sneezed and her spirits rose. He had sensed her – not much, but it was something. He might have a chance.

'Oh relax, we won't hurt him,' the green fairy joined her. 'We're just going to give him a bit of humble pie.' The red fairy eyed her suspiciously but moved backwards.

Humble pie wasn't too bad, she supposed.

'England won't be happy if you hurt him!' she reminded.

'That's because he's a human as well as a nation and so blinded by his emotions,' the blue fairy pointed out as she, and the green fairy, settled on top of America's head and joined hands. 'It's nothing we haven't seen before. Love works in many ways,' she finished wistfully and then turned her attention to the spell.

The red fairy watched carefully and, upon recognising the spell building between their arms, relaxed. If it worked, the worst that could happen was some bruised American pride. Fae spells were tricky things.

Well, until America suddenly stood up and disrupted the two fairies.

They tumbled back, hands slipping apart and thus losing control of the half-formed spell. The red fairy gasped and moved, sending her magic at the pulsing mass in an attempt to dispel it. However, it had already grown too powerful to be dispelled by one fairy and instead expanded to encompass the two nations at the table. They froze, caught in the spell.

The blue and green fairies managed to regain their bearings and join her. They stared at each other for a moment, not sure what they should do. Chaotic magic was beyond their abilities.

And then a clock appeared, its hands slowly turning counter-clockwise, and they understood the consequences.

'England's going to be so mad,' the red fairy's hands covered her mouth, horrified.

'More than mad,' the blue one winced when America disappeared with a soft pop. 'There's probably nowhere we can hide once he finds out…'

'I'm not telling him!' the green fairy shouted, desperately trying to keep hold of Canada. It didn't do any good – the nation followed his brother, disappearing into thin air with another low pop. 'It isn't like it's our fault – magic does things you don't expect. England won't think just because we're fae we have control of it, right?' she turned to them.

The red fairy placed her hands on her hips and glared. She cowered.

After a long silence, the blue fairy flew up to the clock and read the date.

'Uh oh…'

'What?' they all crowded around the clock and, upon seeing the date, shared a guilty look. 'Well, we did say we wanted to teach him a lesson…' the green one said weakly. The red fairy shook her head, wondering how they were going to explain to England they'd sent his former colonies back to the sixteenth century.

Today, she decided, was definitely a no-good very bad day.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the new, revised A Trustworthy Pirate! I re-read through this a few weeks ago and realised just how... rubbish it really was. I was such a n00b when I first started writing it. I couldn't bear the shame of keeping it this way any longer, so I started to re-write it. In comparison to what it was, I think it's bloody amazing - but I'm biased. Please read and review and tell me what you think. Also, if you're willing to beta this story please send a PM and I'll get back to you. Thanks for reading!