AN: OMG more America abuse. Yay :3 Anyway, this is just a short one-shot based on Goethe's poem The Erlking, which is where I took all the dialouge (sp?) from. See other AN for more details!
Me no own squat. Sad face.
Arthur rode and rode and rode. Oh, how this trip home seemed to be taking forever. The blasted wind wasn't helping any, nor was his squirming burden. Bundled in the man's arms was a small boy. His son, Alfred. Something seemed to be troubling the youngster; he kept clinging to the elder's jacket, crying about an apparition. Whenever asked, Alfred would whimper a simple phrase. The Erlking. Arthur knew no such creature existed, but explaining that to his ward was impossible.
"Father, don't you see the Erlking? The Erlking's crown, and flowing robe?" Eyes of the purest blue looked up scared, pleading to be believed, to be saved.
"My son, it's just a whisp of fog."
Alfred lowered his head. How could Arthur not see him? He was so close. So very close.
"O, you dear child, come along with me! Such a lovely game we'll play! Fragrant flowers the shores abound, my mother's made you a golden gown."
The blonde boy whipped his head back up immediately. The Erlking was calling to him.
"Father, father, do you not hear what the Erlking has promised me?" His cries fell on deaf ears.
"Be quite, my child, be still; 'tis but the dry leaves rustling." Arthur was beginning to lose his patience with the lad. Yes, Alfred had a vast imagination, but this was insane!
"Won't you come along with me fine boy? My girls will tend your keeping. The daughters dance such lullabies, 'twill sing you off to sleeping." Again the Erlking called.
"O father, father, why can't you see the Erlking's daughters dark and gay?"
Arthur sighed once more, "My son, my son, there's no one there, but willow trees twisted and grey."
The unseen beast reached for Alfred, whispering, "I love you boy; your charming face, but if you're not willing, then I'll use force."
Alfred screamed. "Father, father! He's grabbing me!" Soon his screams began to subside to agonized cries. "The Erlking is hurting me!"
This got the older man's attention. Upon hearing his young one sound so desperate, so pained he began to ride faster and faster. By now Alfred's moaning had ceased, and when Arthur finally looked down to inspect him, his heart stopped. There in his arms, the child was dead. The fog had taken his son...
End note: Wow, this is bad. But ever since I heard The Erlking (Erlkönig in the original German) in my Humanities class a few months ago, I immediately thought of Iggy and Alfred. And the idea has. not. left. me. the FrUk. alone! O Also, if you look it up yourself, the English lyrics vary, depending on the translator, so I don't want any "OMG YOU GOT IT WRONG!" crap. Kay thanks. :D
Reviews and such would be greatly loved. They might even bring little Alfred back! Sadly, I am currently out of Hetalia plushies, so my usual promise does not stand here. Heheh.
Song: http:/ www. youtube. com/ watch?v=-9yGwoxMLeo