Welcome to my first chapter fanfiction! I hope a lot of you didn't add me to the list and expect all Warriors yaoi..
I don't do that... a lot...
But here is some USUK Hetalia fanfiction. C:
Couple: USUK (Others include RoChu, Franada, GerIta and Spamano)
Theme: Beauty and the Beast
Warning: May have mature content in later chapters.
Also, four characters will be out of character. These characters are America, Prussia, Scotland and Russia. Britain might also be slightly OOC, but not as much as the others.
Enjoy, and don't expect an update soon!
Snow fell heavily on that night. The branches of pine trees of the forest surrounding the looming castle bent down from the weight of snow as the loan figure made its way down the winding path, the great force of the chilling wind forcing it to stop and shiver every few feet, even under the protection of a thick cloak. But still, it trudged on, seeming to be determined to make it to the castle.
The castle's gates rose up ahead. The figure stopped at the foot of the great iron gates, taking in the intricate design of curls, leaves, now accented by the snow and ice brought by the winter's cold grasp. It reached out a withered hand, grasping at the ice-coated metal and, with great difficulty as the hinges were more than likely frozen, wrenched the gate open enough to where it could slip through and close it behind. Ahead, the path curved around more trees and bushes, all slowly beginning to be buried by the snow as it gathered higher and higher on the ground. At the end of the path, the castle was nothing but a giant black shadow against the grey sky. The figure suffered from another chill, wrapped its cloak tighter around itself, and made its way down the winding path.
Before the figure could make it to the doors of the castle, they opened, warm yellow light flooded out from the room within. A slim man walked out, his feminine features hidden in shadow from the light behind him. He was wrapped in warm clothing, a thick cloak and a cloth and scarf wrapped snugly around his face and head, and carrying a basket, obviously about to head out. Before he could close the door, he noticed the figure a few yards ahead.
"Hello?" the man called. His voice was tinted with a Chinese accent, and when he removed the scarf and cloth he revealed a thin face of Asian origins.
The figure wobbled up to the man, holding out a hand towards him as it said in the weak voice of an old woman, "Please, may I come in...?"
The Chinese servant set his basket down and walked quickly over to the woman, grabbing her hand as she lost her balance and stumbled forward, catching herself from falling by grabbing the front of the servant's cloak.
"Please..." she croaked, "I only need a place to stay until the snow stops..."
"Oh, of course you can come in!" The servant said, leading her forward. "I was on my way to pick up the delivery of food for the castle, but it can wait."
Slowly, the two made there way back to the warmth of the castle. The servant lead her inside and closed the door behind him, removing his already damp clothing and hanging them on the coat rack by the door.
"My name is Yao," he said, bowing to the old woman, "And welcome to our home. I will go and tell our Master that you are here." Yao walked away, leaving the old woman, her face hidden in the shadows of her cloak's hood. She looked around, taking in the architecture of the building.
A large bang and the growl of a cat made her turn her attention to a door to her right. A streak of white and brown passed her vision as a fluffy cat ran up to her, clutching what appeared to be a turkey leg in his mouth. He ran head-first into the woman's legs and looked up at her with big, blue eyes. His fur was such a light cream it almost appeared to be white, with a brown mane and tail. The woman bent over to pet the fluffy creature, but a yell from the door he had come from had him twitch and streak away again, disappearing into a door farther down the corridor.
Three people came from the door the cat had come from. The first was a tall, handsome man, wavy blonde hair coming down to his stubbled chin. He was speaking rapidly in French, obviously cursing. It was easy to guess about what, as he was wearing a chef's outfit. The turkey leg must have been from a gourmet meal he had prepared. His blue eyes were blazing with rage.
The boy behind him was also speaking French, but much more calm and quietly. He seemed upset and worried, and it appeared that he was trying to calm down the chef. His lavender-blue eyes were nervous, and his blonde hair, the same kind of wavy as the other man but just a bit shoulder, was messy and ruffled. His simple clothing of a shirt and cloth pants held several tears and scratches.
Finally, the third man came behind. He towered over the other two, and his blue eyes were stern. His blonde hair was slicked back neatly, and when he spoke, a thick German accent covered his words. His clothes held an air of importance, a dark green suit that was made of velvet, a frilly ascot puffing out from the collar.
"You both need to calm down, you're making a huge racket!" he scolded, grabbing both the chef and the boy by the collar. "I expect this from you, Francis, but not you, Prince Matthew! Tearing the kitchen apart trying to catch a stupid cat..."
Francis slapped the German's hand away, turning his burning gaze on him. "How would you feel if some beast came and stole a piece of your masterpiece you'd worked on to perfection, Ludwig!" Francis covered his face with his hands, his voice now sounding as if he were in despair. "I had been working on this turkey dinner since dawn! It was flawless!" He was suddenly furious again, his fists shaking in fury. "I will catch that damn cat and serve it as an appetizer!"
The boy, Matthew, broke free from Ludwig's grip. "No, Francis, please!" Matthew grabbed Francis's arm, holding him back, and pleaded in a soft but desperate voice, "It's my fault he stole your turkey! Hero was hungry, so I snuck into the kitchen get him something to eat and he snuck in behind me!"
But Francis was determined. He tried to shake Matthew off of him, but Matthew held fast, and they initiated another argument in French.
Ludwig sighed, running his hand over his face. He glanced over, and finally noticed the woman standing at the front door.
"And... who are you?" he asked, making the other two fall silent as they both turned to look at the stranger.
"A traveler..." the old woman croaked. "I just need a place to stay until the storm blows over..."
The three looked at each other. They all had looks of surprise on their faces.
"I am surprised Brother is letting her stay..." Matthew said. "He's never let a traveler into the castle, even during the worst of snowstorms..."
"A servant let me in..." the stranger said. "I believe he said his name was Yao... He said he was going to fetch your Master..."
Their curious looks suddenly turned concerned. Francis looked to Matthew and then to Ludwig. "The Master isn't going to like this at all..." the Frenchman said, and the other three nodded in agreement. "Maybe he'd listen to you, Ludwig... You are the Head of Household..."
Ludwig shook his head, looking to the stairs at the end of the hallway. "No. I've tried to talk to him many times, but he won't listen."
"He won't even let me talk to him, and I'm his brother..." Matthew said. The boy turned his soft gaze to the woman, walking up to her. "I'm very sorry. My name is Matthew, one of the Princes of this castle. My brother is the Master of the castle, because he's older. He's not exactly the... nicest man in existence." He chuckled nervously. "If it were up to me, I'd let you stay, but it's not..."
At that moment, the sound of voices and footsteps came from the stairs. Yao had returned, accompanied by a young man who looked furious. He looked much like Matthew, but his face wasn't as soft. His eyes were so blue they made Francis's pale in comparison. His blonde hair was neat, save for a small cowlick in the front. Unlike Matthew, his clothes were that of a Prince. He would be a handsome young man, if it weren't for the fact that his face was contorted in rage as he yelled at Yao.
"I have told you all before!" He screamed, storming down the hallway, his eyes blazing even more than Francis's were before. "Strangers are to be turned away! I will not have filthy travelers messing up my castle!"
Matthew ran up to who must be the Master of the castle. "Please, Brother, stop, she just-"
But the Master wouldn't listen. He moved his younger brother out of his path, still making for the old woman. "You are to leave immediately." He said when he stood before the visitor. "You are not welcome here."
"Please, sir..." the woman pleaded. "Just until this storm blows over..."
"No!" the Master bellowed.
"Alfred, please..." Yao ran up to his Master, grabbing his arm. "Be reasonable, she's just an old woman!"
Alfred reached back and slapped Yao with the back of his hand across his cheek hard enough to leave a red mark. Yao stumbled back, caught by Matthew. "I'll deal with you later, Yao." He turned his piercing gaze back to the traveler. "Leave. Now. Ugly old hags are not welcome in my castle."
"Please... Do not judge me by my appearance..." The woman reached into her clock and pulled something out. It was a rose. Small, but lovely. It was the most delicate pink, and it's fragrance could be smelled even by the servants. It almost seemed to be giving off a soft glow."In return for shelter, I will give you this rose..."
Alfred stared at the small flower, then threw his head back and laughed. It was a mocking, powerful laugh. He glared down at the woman, his face split with a fraudulent smile.
"You expect me to let you stay because you offered me a rose?" He laughed again, the same piercing laugh that made the servants behind him flinch. "I've been offered money, favours, even servitude! But this is certainly a first!"
Alfred marched past the woman, who continued to stand with the rose outstretched. He grasped the knob of the front door, still smiling that fake smile, his blue eyes still angry and hostile. "I told you to get out, and take your stupid weed with you, you hag!"
He wrenched open the door, and a strong gust of wind swirled into the entrance hall, snow and ice stinging everyone's faces. The force of the wind blew the woman's cloak forward, then brought it back, the hood falling from her head.
The burst of light was so sudden that Alfred was temporarily blinded. It was pure and bright. Alfred fell to his knees, shielding his face behind his hands.
"Alfred..." the voice was clear and smooth, echoing with some kind of magic. Alfred lowered his hands to see a beautiful enchantress before him. Her skin was smooth and pale. Her body was covered by a simple white dress, her hair a caramel brown, both waving gently in a non-existant breeze. Her eyes shone with a blue just as entrancing as Alfred's. This was the old traveler who had offered him the rose. The small, unbloomed flower was still clutched in her hand, and she stared down at Alfred, extending it towards him.
"Alfred... you have shown me no kindness." She spoke calmly, but her voice radiated power, making Alfred flinch. "Therefore, I will show you none in return." The rose fell from her hand and onto the floor in front of Alfred. He looked down at it before looking back up to the enchantress.
"No... please, forgive me..." Alfred pleaded, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Please, give me another chance!"
But the enchantress shook her head slowly. She pointed her finger to him, light gathering at it's tip. "I will make you as ugly as you are inside." Her words were followed by a flash of light from her finger. The light wrapped itself around Alfred, and slowly, he began to change. Screams of pain rose from his throat as dark blonde hair began to sprout from his skin all over his body. Great fangs grew from his mouth, and horns from his skull. His feet and hands became long, clawed paws. He was becoming a beast.
"And, because of your actions, your entire castle shall be punished." She rose her arms above her head, and the mystic light enveloped the castle. The servants could be heard screaming as they, too, were contorted, becoming household objects, from candles to teapots.
"You have until your twenty-first birthday." Alfred looked up to her, tears streaming down his twisted face. "The rose will bloom, then wither. If you can not learn to love anyone other than yourself, and have you love them in return, before the last petal falls," she slowly began to fade from sight, the light starting to drain from the room. "...then you shall remain a beast... for all time..."
With that, the enchantress disappeared. The absence of her light left Alfred blind in the now dark entrance hall. Alfred's transformation was complete. He was completely unrecognizable, now a monster. The only thing that remained unchanged was his shining blue eyes, still human. But now they were dull as they stared at his clawed fingers.
"Brother...?" The voice came from in front of him. Alfred looked up to see a small feather-duster. His eyes widened as it spoke to him again. "Brother... what happened...?"
Alfred began to tremble. He stared at what was now his little brother. Matthew walked up to him, his feathers dancing around as he moved. His hands were covered in them, and they flowed around his wooden legs like a dress. He reached up a feathered hand to touch his brother's face, but before he could, Alfred let out a roar.
Grabbing the steam of the rose and cradling it delicately, Alfred took off on all fours, his claws scrapping at the marble floor. He caught a glimpse of his servants as he ran. Yao was now an intricately designed Chinese teapot, Francis was a candelabra, and Ludwig a clock. They all tried to stop him as he ran past, but Alfred was too horrified at what he had caused them to become... what he himself had become...
He raced to his room, grabbing a small vase and placing the rose gently inside. Keeping this rose alive as long as possible was now his main priority. Certainly he could make someone fall in love with him before his twenty-first birthday. That was still a good year away...
But as he turned, he saw his reflection staring back at him from the mirror of his vanity. The face that stared back at him was grotesque and twisted, terrifying even to himself. He moved his hand upwards, and the creature in the glass raised a clawed paw. He touched his face, the monster touched his as well. Anger and pain suddenly raced through Alfred's blood, boiling it to a peak. He lashed out, breaking the fragile surface of the mirror. Shards of glass cut his paws, but he didn't stop.
A portrait of his former self hung on the other wall. He ran up to it and slashed his claws down the handsome face of who he used to be.
Alfred utterly destroyed his room. The canopy over his bed was ripped to shreds, the curtains of the doors that lead to a balcony, everything that had been in his room, completely ruined in Alfred's rage.
When the last item he owned was destroyed, Alfred wandered over to the rose, placing his hands beside it. Slowly, his rage depleted, fading into despair and depression, all hope lost of finding someone to love him. For who could ever come to love... a beast?