The original song is from lion king 2 and is owned by Disney. I may have tweeked it a bit to fit the story. Thanks to Chromi who helped me with parts of this little ficlet. I may continue with it I may not, depends if you guys like it. Anyway enjoy~
A straw haired blonde strode through the gloomy room, illuminated by a single beam of light emanating from the open door. Said blonde made his way expertly through the murkiness of the room towards a single cot that lay isolated from the various toys and books strewn across the vacant room. With the man's back to the door, the penetrating light seemed to make the already tall male seem even more towering and intimidating. His frame was well built and covered by crimson and gold coat and dark jeans. A small bundle could be clearly seen in his arms. When he reached his destination he dropped the small bundle into the cot, he turned to leave before...
"Papa? Where are you going?"
"Hush my little one, you must be exhausted." The blonde strode towards the beautifully hand crafted cot. He reached inside pulling out a small infant. Leaning in close the child's innocent sky blue eyes, the blonde man whispered "Sleep my little Alfred; let your dreams take wing. One day when your big and strong, you will be a king~!" Placing a kiss on the child's soft forehead then lay the child back into the cot and then proceeded towards the door.
"Good night..."
"Good night, my little prince. Tomorrow, your training intensifies." Whispering the last part to himself the blonde man closed the door behind him; striding down the stairs with such grace and elegance.
Scanning the room, his forest green eyes spotted his brothers all seated around the room doing various activities, most of which included poker. He watched over them individually with confidence, a glare like concealed death.
"I've been exiled," He eyed the next brother, "Persecuted..." And the next, then looked back at him in a displeased manner. "Left alone with no defence..." Stalking over towards a large, expansive looking painting of Spain he glared at it with dark clouded eyes. "When I think of what that brute did..." he reached into his coats pocket pulling out a rather sharp looking blade; "I get a little tense!" Spitting out the last few words, he slashed at the painting leaving a large, jagged tear down the middle of the painting, starting at the Spaniards heart...
Spitting at the painting, he turned to see his brothers eyes were all on him. Striding towards his blood red haired brother, Alistair he sang in a twisted sing song voice, "But I dream a dream so pretty, that I don't feel so depressed." Pausing he manoeuvred towards his younger brother Shamus and, in the same spine-chilling sing song tone, whispered. "Cause it soothes my inner kitty and it helps me get some rest~"
He rested his pale hand against his brother's shoulder, and growled , "The sound of Spain's dying gasp," He squeezed the skin beneath his hand, "His colonies squealing in my grasp," he mimics this action with both his hands, "His companions' mournful cry~" Shamus squirmed uncomfortably and grunted softly in annoyance, "That's my lullaby~"
Sliding across the table he propped himself up onto his elbows so he was level with his eldest son, Cody (Australia ;)), he sung a mocking voice, "Now the past I've tried forgetting. And my foes I could forgive..." Shifting his gaze to his other brothers he grabbed Shamus's chin pulling it closer to himself so they were at eye level and growled "Trouble is, I knows it's petty, but I hate to let them live." Hissing out the last line he pushed his brother backwards, hard enough to push hi smug little face off his chair.
Smirking he turning his head he spied his eldest brother, Alistair, muttering to the others, "So he found himself somebody, who'd chase that Spaniard up a tree." Twisting his icy emerald stare so his eyes locked with his brothers he grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, the battle may be bloody, but that kinda works for me~."
With a mad glint in his eyes he pounced at Alistair, then with that ever so twisted grin he whipped his head back and snarled, "The melody of angry growls, a counterpoint of painful howls!" untangling himself from his brother he leapt onto a nearby chair and roared. "A symphony of death, oh my! That's my lullaby!"
"A kinda twisted lullaby if you ask me..." Arthur heard Patrick mutter into Dylan's ear which earned his elder brother a hard slap around the head.
Quietly, the band of brothers crept up the stairs and into Alfred's room. Alistair, first to reach the room, scowled at the sleeping child.
A soft change in melody caused everything to suddenly freeze; all in the room was quiet. "Father is gone, but we are still around; to love this little lad." He placed a soft kiss to Alfred's sleeping form. If one were to look into Arthur's eyes, they would find that they had lost all their malice and anger and were instead filled with woe and sorrow. "Till he learns to be a killer, with a lust for being bad!" The fury returned to the once innocent eyes that had been lost all those years ago; like a fire of pure hate.
"Sleep ya little termite!" Upon seeing Arthurs shadow appears in the doorway he quickly muttered in a fake caring tone, "Uh-- I mean, precious little thing!" Dylan pushed his elder brother out of the way and gazed into the cot below him. "One day when your big and strong-"
"He will be a King!" Leaping onto the balcony, he glared at the castle in the distance where Spain and his precious Lovi resided. He tore his gaze from the Spainards residence to see Cody and Riley on the balcony below him glaring at the same stone walls with the same burning hatred as him. Cocking his head to the side, he noticed his four siblings stood beside him, all bearing a sickened grin.
"The pounding of the drums of war! The thrill of his mighty roar!"
"The joy of vengeance!" Scotland yelled into the night sky, only to be pushed off the balcony into the pool below by a certain Welsh nation who the scotsman may have stood upon.
"Testify!" The two Irish siblings chorused in sync.
On the balcony in between the two laughing Irishmen, stood a blond with his right foot forward peering down on the collapsed redhead in the water. He sneered; almost hanging over the edge to chant;
"I can hear the cheering!" With a bite of sarcasm and Oh-I-Know-I've-Won.
The voices from below were cheering indeed,
'Alfred, what a guy, Alfred, what a guy!'
The blond grinned menacingly, the sweet venom of victory practically dripping off his shoulders like the water off Scotland's. He leaned back down to the crowd,
"PAYBACK TIME IS NEARING!" He dictated, earning satisfied grunts from the others.
"And then my flag will fly against a blood red sky," He took a breath before grinning again, saying the last part to himself, wiping his brow. The jeers from the other nations have him enough confidence to say;
"That's my lullaby."
