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[Fic] A DaeomnTouch
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fivedayslaterCharacters/Pairings: USUK
Word Count: 1,198
Rating/Warnings: PG, random abrupt style changes, HDM crossover
Summary: When he was little, America would touch England’s daemon all the time.
Notes: So I had this idea in my head, and it's a really good idea I think, or at least it has parts that are good, but I wasn't sure how to go about. And then I ran out of time. And now I'm making excuses. I wanted to do something for every day of Sweethearts Week this year because I missed it last year, but I ran out of time today. I'll do better tomorrow.
When he was little, America would touch England’s daemon all the time.
It wasn’t a big deal to them. America was still young and didn’t understand the taboo or the implications with breaking it, just that Britannia’s lioness fur was soft and it made England happy. England would touch Columbia too, but those moments were few and usually only when America was distressed and needed to be calmed down.
(During those moments she would usually be a rabbit, as she still hadn’t settled, and America often wonders if England wanted her to settle that way; cute, lovable, non-threatening, prey.)
As he grew older, as they grew apart, naturally the touching became less, until one day it stopped completely.
+
It had been just after the tea party. Or just after England had gotten word of the tea dumped in the harbor, got on a ship, and arrived in America, so really it was about two months after the event. England cornered America in the kitchen and had him sit down, not saying anything, just silently judging him. America fidgeted under his gaze, Columbia a turkey in his lap. She was a turkey more often lately, and America wondered if she would settle like that.
(Nothing wrong with a turkey, she’d insisted, turkeys were noble creatures. Besides, France’s daemon was a rooster. Even if fowl was food, they could still put up a fight.)
Eventually England said, “I’m not angry at you,” and he didn’t sound angry, just tired, as if reprimanding America was getting old and repetitive and he had better things to do, “I know none of this is your fault.”
“What if it is?” America wasn’t in the mood to be patronized, “What if I’ve been the one starting the protests? What if I’ve been acting out?”
England looked stunned for a moment, as if the thought had never crossed his mind, but he got over it and he sighed, “America, you are still a child,” he gestured at Columbia, “She still changes her mind about what she wants to be. How on earth can you govern yourself if you’re still not sure who you are?”
Columbia bristled at that and jumped on the floor, changing into a wolf to challenge Britannia. She didn’t react to her growling, remained calm, poised, imperial. England clicked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment.
That only served to send America into even more of a rage, “That’s none of your concern!”
England’s eyebrow twitched, “None of my…of course it’s my concern! You’re my colony, my little brother. Everything you do and everything you are is my concern.”
Columbia snarled and began to circle Britannia. America stood up and shouted, “I can take care of myself! Despite what you may think, I’m not a child anymore England!”
England sighed, again, and bent down to scratch behind Columbia’s ear. Both nation and daemon froze at the breech in protocol. It had been so long since England touched them like that, America almost forgot what it felt like. It was soothing, familiar, as if all his problems could just melt away if he let them, as if there was none of this building tension between them, as if they weren’t colony and empire but just America and England, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
“What happened to us America?” England said as he hit all of the sweet spots he knew she had in that form, “We used to be so close, but lately we’re just growing farther apart.”
Of course they were growing farther apart, America wanted to shout. He was England’s colony, a fact he had known for almost all his existence but was only now starting to realize the implications. Their relationship wasn’t supposed to be that of two brothers, like England had played up all his life. He was expected to do England’s bidding without complaint, like his servant, his inferior.
America couldn’t take it anymore. He and Columbia broke away from England’s hypnotizing touch and stormed out, never looking back.
+
It would be several centuries before America and England were on friendly speaking terms again, let alone have their relationship repaired enough to reach the sort of trust and intimacy that went along with daemon touching again.
(During their time apart, Columbia finally settled sometime during westward expansion. America, surprisingly, since he’d been waiting for it since before the Revolution, didn’t even notice. One day he just woke up and realized she had been an eagle for a few decades and she informed him that she’d be staying that way.
England noticed right away, the next time he saw him. Said an eagle suited him. Britannia didn’t look at them, hadn’t looked at them since that time in the kitchen decades ago, wouldn’t look at them for several more decades.)
They'd never admit to missing England’s touch, but Columbia never let anyone other than America touch her, and America was alright with that.
+
It was V-E Day. They had just gotten back to England’s house after the celebrations. Delighted, joyful, happier than either had been in ages, and tired, oh so tired, America had collapsed in the armchair and England on top of him.
Columbia was perched on the back of the chair, Britannia curled up by its side. England was laughing, still giddy from their victory, and clung to his arms, burying his face into America’s shoulder.
America wrapped an arm around England’s waist, pulling him even closer and turning his face into England’s hair, breathed in his scent, and let his other arm dangle over the arm of the chair.For the first time since before the Depression, America was content.
Without realizing it, America started stroking Britannia’s head. She and England tensed, his grip on America’s arms impossibly tight, and America stopped, kicking himself in his head for taking their carefully repaired relationship and tossing it out the window. But the moment passed; Britannia nuzzled his hand and England relaxed into him even more, so America continued petting her.
She was just as soft as he remembered her being as a kid, just as warm and comforting and familiar. As he scratched her neck, England let out a content sigh and reached up to stroke Columbia.
It was like falling, but in a good way, that part between the initial jump and before you realize that the ground is coming up where everything is exciting yet at peace, the greatest feeling in the world. America hadn’t realized how much he had missed this, missed England touching him like that, until that moment. If he was content before, then he was in pure bliss now, touching England and being touched by England in a way that was both achingly familiar and incredibly new.
As he pulled England closer, basking in the million good emotions he was feeling, reveling in the little sighs Columbia made as England stroked her wings, America decided he wouldn’t trade this, what he had with England, whatever it was, for anything in the world. And from the way England relaxed further into his embrace and the soft purrs coming from Britannia that was alright with him.
Long, overly-enthusiastic comment is long and overly-enthusiastic
I loved the names you gave their dæmons. I also love how you matched the touching to the book, how taboo it is and yet how right it feels when the right person does it. And I think everyone loves 'through the ages' fic.
Thank you for doing such a great job. Really.
Now I'm probably going to think about all the other nations' dæmons, and whether they're going to be male or female (after all, accepted HDM canon is that same-sex dæmons = homosexual, so, like, Sweden's would probably be a male lion), and how funny it is that Germany, Prussia and Austria probably all have a black eagle for a dæmon.
Re: Long, overly-enthusiastic comment is long and overly-enthusiastic
You're quite welcome. Thank you for your lovely comment.
That conversation would prolly go something like..
Austria: We can't both have black eagle daemons. Change yours at once.
Prussia: Mine was like this first. You change yours!
Germany: Hey guys, so my daemon just settled as a black eagle and...why are you glaring at me like that?
Re: Long, overly-enthusiastic comment is long and overly-enthusiastic
Re: Long, overly-enthusiastic comment is long and overly-enthusiastic
Re: Long, overly-enthusiastic comment is long and overly-enthusiastic
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I'll leave a more coherent comment later, right now I'm just squeeing at the summary :P
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i like colombia being a turkey when america was young. i've always been amused that it was almost the national animal, if it were up to ben franklin.
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I always found that an interesting choice, and I'm glad you picked that up. :)
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