Hetalia One-Shots

UsUk : Battlefield

  The heavy breaths of horses and men weighed on the tense atmosphere. Soldiers held their weapons tightly, waiting for the signal. Each kingdom's banner was waved high above the heads of the knights. The opponents faced each other fiercely, ready to attack. The kings and queens sat on their steeds in the front of their army. With one harsh glance, it was war.

  "Charge!" hollered both kings, pointing to the enemy.

  The soldiers cried out madly and stormed forward, swords and spears colliding harshly. The royal sovereigns galloped towards one another brandishing their blades in the air. The king of Spades easily knocked over his enemy's guards and struck the king in the chest. Due to their thick armors, the latter wasn't injured, simply fazed and dizzy. Alfred smirked proudly and stomped off to help his soldiers, successfully smothering the enemy warriors.

  The queen of the enemy had retreated but Arthur remained in battle and supported his men. He fought bravely, missing none of his shots. His sword hadn't been drawn from his sheath and his armor was still spotless. The blond's horse trotted around the battles. Arthur carefully aimed, holding the nock against his cheekbone, and fired. The arrow lodged itself between the soldier's helmet and collar, piercing their neck and killing them.

  The agile archer was rapid and precise, executing many enemy soldiers by the minute. Occupied aiming his next victim, Arthur didn't see the lance launched towards him. He was propelled off his steed and dragged in the dirt. His bow had broken in the fall and laid at his feet. He quickly stood and drew his sword, stabbing anyone who neared him.

  The queen of Spades wielded his sword almost just as well as he handled his bow and arrow. He was caught off guard and hit in the back with a mace. Thrusted to his knees, his blade skidded out of his grasp. He stretched his arm out in attempt to retrieve it but it was kicked away by fighting warriors. Arthur turned around just in time to see the mace being swung back in his face. He rolled to the side and jumped to his feet, barely dodging the attack.

  He kicked a soldier from behind and held him down, taking his sword and stabbing him with it in the process. Arthur stood with the weapon in front of him and faced his opponent. The man was actually the enemy king. This provoked the blond who lunged forward, his sword held near his face then thrust to the king's chest. He was countered and pushed back. Their blades shattered and slid along each other.

  They drew back and swung forward again. They spun around one another, stepping over dead bodies. Their combat was aggressive and impulsive. Both were tied and refused to leave any ground. Arthur knocked the dynast's helmet off his head with a powerful punch. It was returned with a jab in the leg. The blond groaned and flinched, bending his knee and gripping his thigh.

  The king hit Arthur in the face with the shaft of his sword, sending the queen on the rough soil. The blond's helmet fell and uncovered his bruised face. He tightened his grasp around his sword and lunged it at the king who smacked it away with his hand. Arthur panted harshly and crawled backwards, trying to get away and stand. His enemy left him no chance and kept kicking him to the ground, occasionally stepping on his injured leg.

  At that moment, Alfred was battling against a soldier. He successfully cut through the man's throat, bringing him to the ground. He averted his gaze from the corpse to the scene in front of him, meters away. He saw Arthur dragging himself away from the king in obvious pain. The blue-eyed man stepped forward wanting to help his spouse but was struck to the head with a log. He fell in the dirt face first. His eyesight was blurry and his head was throbbing.

  Alfred pushed himself on his hands with difficulty and watched his queen being pulled up by his hair. His cry of distress was the only sound the blond king heard in the middle of the thundering battle. He stared in horror and tried to scurry to his feet. A kick in his back and Alfred was shoved back into the dust. He sorely raised his head and gasped, petrified. The enemy king held his sword back and kept Arthur up by his hair.

  The blue-eyed sovereign shouted and implored, clawing into the ground trying to move and save his lover. His pleads were left unheard and the king stabbed Arthur in the ribs, the area free from protection. The blade penetrated the archer's skin and sunk into his flesh. He was let go of and collapsed limply.

  Alfred roared in agony and rage. He tripped the soldier who held him down and slit his throat once the man was on his back. He rushed over to his queen while slaughtering any warrior within his reach. His head and heart pounded. His vision was hazy but focused only on Arthur's motionless body. His energy fueled him enough to tackle the enemy king and plunge him into the soil, holding his face down.

  Alfred sunk his fingers into the man's throat with his left hand and pried his armor off with his right. He held his sword over the ruler's chest and rammed it in his abdomen mercilessly. His eyes glistened furiously as he saw the life leak out of his body.

  The blond cast his weapon away and bustled to Arthur who had pulled the blade out of his chest. Alfred nestled his queen in his arms and wept as he stroked his face. He pressed onto the seeping gash and cried for help at his surrounding soldiers.

  "It's alright... We'll treat your wound... We'll watch over you... You're going to be fine," he whispered to Arthur, his trembling hand brushing the damp hair off his dirtied forehead. The green-eyed blond breathed slowly and with hiccups. A weak smile appeared on his face and he closed his eyes, tears spilling out. He reopened them and lifted his hand up, trying to reach Alfred's cheek. His muscles were too feeble and his hand dropped onto the blond's collar.

  Alfred brought Arthur's hand to his face and rubbed his cheek against it. He forced a smile and entwined their fingers, keeping his hand against his skin. He bit his lips and choked up. Arthur lowered their hands and pressed Alfred's against his still lips. He deposited them on his chest with a beautiful and courageous smile. His eyelids slowly lowered, pushing a last stream of tears out of his eyes. A long, quiet breath escaped his mouth.

  The king of Spades broke down kissing his queen's hand and face. His wails and sobs travelled through the entire battlefield now silent. The fighting had ended just after the king had been murdered. The soldiers of Spade either killed the others or captured them. The army remained speechless at the death of their queen and gathered around the two figures embracing each other.

  The blond struck the ground with his fist in infuriation and bewailed. His face was pressed over his lover's chest as tears poured over his face and onto the metal armor. He sobbed hugging Arthur firmly. He wasn't ready to rule alone. He didn't see himself ever breathing without his queen by his side. The thought of taking his own life seemed more and more appealing. He reached out to the dagger in his belt and unsheathed it.

  Before he could bring it to his throat, a dozen of knights were over him and holding him down. They teared the weapon out of his grasp and pressed him to the ground securely. Many tried to reason with him, attempting to convince him to calm down and think it through. The rest of the army stood with their lips pursed, knowing their beloved king would never be the same as he was before.