Chapter 1. Bread Lines.

Gilbert had lived on the streets of New York City for his whole life. At least, as long as he could remember. He knew his family ditched him, probably because he looked like such a freak. The people on the streets still gawk at him because of how he looked. Honestly, he thought he looked pretty damn awesome. His hair was snow white and ragged, obviously cut with his pocket knife, and he had bright red eyes. His clothing was mainly made up of rags, the only thing he could find on short notice during his growth spurts. Normally, people wouldn't even try to help him because he was "of the devil" or some shit like that.

Because of all of this, he was used to being on his own. Well, he did have one friend. A little yellow bird he had found when he was in some dark alley. He named it Gilbird, after his awesome self, of course. Gilbird had been his best and only friend for pretty much his entire life. They were partners in crime together, inseparable.

Every day was pretty much the same; find some food, steal it, run away from the guards, get to their hideout, and then repeat for lunch and dinner. Other than that, he spent his time finding some new awesome things to put in their hideout, like new blankets for curtains or pillows so that he won't wake up with that kink in his neck.

This was exactly what he was doing today; stealing some possibly moldy bread from some market in the middle of the street he didn't understand. Apparently it was for some of the higher-ups, but there was a section for the people on the streets. They did have to pay, though, but Gilbert wasn't having that. Part of the life of being on the streets means you have no money.

Someone screamed just as Gilbert snatched up his rather large loaf of bread.

"The freak's here!" a woman shouted and Gilbert quickly tried to duck down and run out of there as fast as he could, but he ran straight into the captain of the guard.

"I see the cow's on time as usual," Gilbert winked at the woman. To anyone else, she could probably be considered beautiful with her flowing light brown hair and glittering green eyes. Her outfit could be considered rather flattering as well. It was costumed to her, Gilbert bet. It was different than all the others. It was black, similar to the others, but the trim around her uniform was gold, in comparison to the red that the regular soldiers had. It was a tight-fitting blouse that had sleeves down to her forearms and slim fitting pants. It all made her look like a bad ass, but still rather delicate. But Gilbert knew better than anybody else that she was stronger than any guy could be and wicked with her frying pan… Elizaveta…whatever her last name was. Gilbert never really cared much for last names, especially since he didn't even care enough to have one.

"Still stealing?" Elizaveta raised an eyebrow.

"You bet," Gilbert nodded and started running as quickly as he could in the other direction, through the market. Luckily, Gilbird had proved to be useful yet again and flew right in Elizaveta's line of sight, making her blunder.

"After him!" Elizaveta yelled and more guards appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and Gilbert ran faster. Normal thieves weren't treated like this. Gilbert, however, was special. He always got away, and he always stole. Every day, without fail. They didn't even know his name, and no wanted posters were up. Obviously, he was just a simple thief stealing food. There was more than enough food to go around, especially to the princes. They probably ate lavishly every day… The royal jerk-offs…

"Gotcha," Elizaveta panted as Gilbert felt someone grab onto his wrist, forcing him to halt.

"Getting faster, I see," Gilbert laughed, knowing full well that he could get out of this. He'd gotten out of harder situations before. This was a crowded market, after all. All he would need to do is snag a hat and blend in with everyone else around him.

"While you only get slower," Elizaveta glared at him. "Now just give up and turn yourself into us."

"Hey, last I checked, I'm not a wanted criminal," Gilbert shrugged. "Don't need to turn myself in." Gilbert whistled, the signal for Gilbert, who came swooping in and clawed at Elizaveta's hand. She let go, thankfully and Gilbert tore off running again. He narrowly avoided running right into several guards and finally found a stand selling hats. He quickly snagged a beanie and pulled it over his white hair and ran just a little further before finding a place where no guards were and stepping in pace with all of the other people. He was even able to snag some sunglasses and placed them over his eyes. Gilbird was happily flying overhead and they were now fully undercover. Gilbert even managed to stuff the bread into his shirt.

As he slowly started making his way back to his hideout, he managed to even walk past Elizaveta yelling at her guards to find him without her even noticing. He couldn't make it to his hideout, though, because, apparently a new wave of female royalty was arriving. Duchesses, princesses, countesses, probably even archduchesses. He was shoved to the side of the street with everyone else as he watched the line of perfectly groomed horses strut by with equally well groomed women riding on top of them.

"More girls for Prince Matthew," a man next to me scoffed.

"Think he'll ever choose one?"

"Doubt it."

"Why doesn't Alfred just take over? I'm sure he's liked some of these girls."

One of the women trotting by even winked and blew kisses in their direction, making Gilbert gag, but the men around him practically swooned.

"She's pretty, right, man?" one of the men patted Gilbert roughly on the back. Now, Gilbert wasn't necessarily strong, and he wasn't quite expecting such a hard pat, so he wound up getting shoved right into the street, into the parade. His sunglasses clattered to the ground as he looked up and saw a horse's hoof making its way for his head and he quickly ducked out of the way, but his beanie didn't quite make it and it slid off.

The women were already screaming when he was shoved onto the ground, apparently worried about their horses, but now they were screaming at him. The freak with the while hair and red eyes.

"Oh, God! Look at him!"

"What a freak!"

"Is America-Canada really safe?!"

"There!" that voice was Elizaveta's and Gilbert was never so happy to hear a familiar voice.

"See ya, ladies," Gilbert winked at them, trying to act oblivious to the way the women were reacting to him.

"Go back to the slums, freak!" one spat at him as he ran right through their parade and right into the thick crowd. He was able to easily weave his way through the group and make it to the not crowded parts of the city unscathed. He ran through quite a few back allies until he finally made it to his hideout, Gilbird perched in the window.

"Close one, right?" Gilbert laughed, pulling out his bread triumphantly. His laugh died down rather quickly, though, reflecting back to earlier. "Freak, huh…Guess I should be used to that, right Gilbird? Freak's just another word for awesome."

The bird tweeted happily in reply and Gilbert laughed, crumbling up some of the loaf into breadcrumbs that he tossed at the windowsill. Luckily for him, Gilbird was small, so feeding him wasn't exactly a hard feat.

"One day we'll show 'em, right?" Gilbert continued talking to his bird, taking a bit of his bread. "We'll show 'em just how awesome we are."

"So how many are we getting today?" Matthew asked his brother bordely.

"Uh, 22, I think," Alfred shrugged, leaning back in his throne. Matthew simply idly sat in the throne next to him. He was fully aware that this was the throne meant for the Queen, but he couldn't quite care less. Alfred was the one sitting in the King's throne.

He had his brother were dressed in equally princly outfits, though Matthew's was far more modest. Alfred was dressed in practically an entire tuxedo, dark blue, and incredibly shiny dress shoes. Matthew, however, was in brown slacks, a white dress shirt, and a brown vest. The two were obviously related, looking nearly exactly like each other, but there were their differences. Alfred's sandy blonde hair was slickly put in place, save for that odd cowlick. Matthew prefered to have his hair free, so he let it do what it wanted. Alfred's bright blue eyes lit up happily with every person that passed him by. Matthew's softer blue eyes simply seemed far away, uninterested. Alfred always looked peppy, his signiture smile always greeting guests. Matthew simply stayed in his seat, preferring to stay to himself.

"Which means 22 more girls to send home crying," Matthew sighed. He didn't like making girls cry, it just happened. They were all there to hopefully become the next Queen of America-Canada, but Matthew never really found an interest in any of the girls that came in. Apparently, he was supposed to be the next King now that he and Alfred's dad was dead. Alfred was older, though he was very intent on not being King. It was "not his style" and he said he would prefer to be a knight, so he wound up dumping the responsibility onto Matthew, who needed a Queen to be able to take the throne. For now, the brothers were running the country together, with some help from the council.

"Well, you could try to be at least a little positive, dude," Alfred offered him a smile.

"I've tried with the past hundred girls," Matthew stated. "I gave it my best shot. Not one of them is a person I would consider marrying. And they're all the same, practically clones!"

"Okay, I agree with you," Alfred sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "But, look, there's a reason we're bringing in so many. Maybe one of them will be different eventually."

"I was thinking that way 50 girls ago," Matthew sighed and rested his head in his hands as the giant door that led to the front courtyard, where the girls were marched through after parading through the city like obnoxious brats, opened. The women slowly filed in, making the familiar line that the rest of them did. He always hated the royal families that flaunted their wealth. The Canadian royalty always lived rather modestly, giving the majority of their money to the people. America, however, seemed to enjoy making rather large buildings as monuments to their wealth.

"Hey, girls!" Alfred cheered happily, standing up and silencing the chatting girls, all in some obnoxiously expensive gown. "So, most of you should know the drill. We're pretty picky, as you can tell by the amount of girls that have been told no. First, you'll go through our trusty Captain of the Guard, Elizaveta, who is probably out patrolling right now. Then, you'll go through myself and my advisor, Francis. If you can make it through all of that, you'll meet my brother one-on-one. Then we'll find out if he likes you enough after that."

Matthew just glanced at the girls all standing next to each other, finding nothing different than he'd seen already. The kinds of girls that had been let through to him were usually ditsy and obviously scripted of some kind. A lot of people wanted to be allies with America-Canada, as it was quickly growing to be the most popular country in the world. But scripting the girls to try to see if Matthew would like them? It was just sick…

"You guys can all go to your rooms for now, and we'll be sure to call you out once Elizaveta gets back," Alfred nodded cheerfully.

"I don't know how you manage to keep such a cheerful attitude all the time," Matthew muttered, watching the girls file out to the side with perfect poise.

"It's called charisma," Alfred smiled. "Something all us heroes have. Makes you noticeable."

"I'm perfectly happy not being noticeable," Matthew sighed. "You just made me the world's number one target by making me the next King."

"Probably number two target," Alfred sighed. "Germany's still looking for their lost prince."

"I have no idea why," Matthew muttered.

"Because some people like to be optimists," Alfred smirked.

"Whatever," Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes, but couldn't help but laugh slightly. He did want to have fun with his brother, like the good old days when their parents were in charge. Sadly, though, now they were forced to be responsible. And Matthew was getting rather tired of it.

It was a few hours later when the 3 girls cleared through Elizaveta, Alfred, and Francis came through Matthew's room. All three of them were the same in Matthew's mind, all scripted and all superficial. So Matthew just simply said sorry and sent them away. His pet polar bear did a little to help him with that. He was a gift from his mother, but his name always seemed to escape Matthew.

"Thanks for helping the last one out, Kumagichi," Matthew smiled at him. The last girl seemed to take it rather hard, refusing to leave and even going so far as trying to basically assault Matthew. Luckily, the small polar bear could be violent when he wanted to. The bear looked up at him, as if saying "you're welcome."

"I'm really sorry for doing this," Matthew knelt down to pet the bear, looking over at the rags he had placed out on his bed. He'd been planning this for quite a while now. He knew Alfred would wait about 10 minutes after the last girl left before coming in to check on Matthew, just enough time for him to slip away and out into the city.

Running away wasn't his first choice, but it was all that was left. Now Alfred would have to see what it felt like to get responsibilities dumped onto him.

"Try not to kill Alfred," Matthew smiled at his bear, who did in fact have a tendency to try to attack Alfred. He swiftly changed into the crudely sewn together rags he assumed the people on the other side wore and slipped onto his balcony. It was only about two stories up and he could climb down the vines on the side and have a straight shot through the garden to the gate in the wall and make it out in no time.

"See ya later."

With that, Matthew disappeared from his room. Hopefully, forever.

Voila! New story time! I just finished one up and so I decided to start a new one! It's Aladdin themed! Can you tell?

Alright, so I'm gonna give you a quick run-down of this world. I came up with it when I wondered what the world would be like if every country were run by a monarchy. So I did that. A few of the countries have changed around with their responsibilities. America, for instance, hasn't had to fight so many wars, so it's focus isn't on weaponry, but rather technology. The city of New York is very different from what it is now, but I'll explain that later. Canada was one of the most popular countries in the world, and then Matthew and Alfred's parents decided to get married and merge the countries. America-Canada, ladies and gentleman. Other countries that have a sharp contrast with the real world...Germany has avoided many dictators and hasn't had to fight wars, so it's focused mainly on medical things. Italy, however, went into a lot of wars, so their probably the most militaristic country in the world.

Anyway, now that that's over with...tell me what you think! I'm pretty happy with my character choice on this one and it's my first chapter fic where the main pairing is PruCan, so I'll need people to tell me how I'm doing! I doubt there will be any side pairings, and don't worry, I will be deviating slightly from the plot of Aladdin to give you a few surprises! So look out for those!

Anyway, I'm done talking, so please review!

And I do not and never will own Hetalia.