#spawal

Shady dealings and misdeeds, that faint taste of black magic on the tip of the tongue where it had always been, a brow cocked as the reason for his prosperity entered the cabin, the glare Aeron receives only resulting in the Spaniard being returned with an amused stare and a humoured smirk.

He’d misbehaved; he knows he had, but the other was stupid if he didn’t think giving a nation so spall so much power would result in him being a good little boy. The notion of a bull controlling a dragon had amused him from the get go but to be met with the others rage, he couldn’t deny the thrill running up his spine.

Antonio had informed him of the future, informed him of what he became, what his little brother became and gave him the means to stop it. Arthur had never colonised the Americas, Aeron had taken his place in this Empire and apparently that was a problem.

He doesn’t understand why, he’d given him the means, the ammunition, the power to take the world as his and he gets angry when he does. Oh, the thrill of being underestimated, the excitement that came with being thought to be some puppet easy to play.

“You look mad, España. Are things not going according to plan?” Aeron doesn’t bother to hide the amusement, the smug little glint in his eye as the other physically bristles in rage, liking his lips in excitement as the Spaniard looked like he was about to approach, not even attempting to stop himself speaking his next words because he wanted a reaction from the other, he craved it.

“Did you really think a Dragon would behave when threatened by a Bull?” He chuckles, looking up as the other leant over him, rage as ever present in his eyes and Aeron refrains from cooing at him. He was acting like a child that didn’t get what he wanted, not an empire, how he’d grown so vast was beyond the Welshman. “You shouldn’t have left your lands so undefended; I only took Nueva Zelanda and Australia.”

“They weren’t yours to take, Galles.”

“I don’t see you trying to take them back, Sbaen.”

Perhaps it’s the wrong choice of words, though maybe it was the right ones, a sweet as sin smile upon the Welsh man’s lips as tanned fingers curl around his throat because he knows the threat that’s coming, the words upon the others tongue and he can feel the bubbling laughter in the back of his throat being held there as he air was slowly cut off.

“You forget your place; I can strip you of everything like I did your brother.” He snarls, Aeron only cocking a brow but doing nothing else, there was no point in arguing when you couldn’t spare the breath to chuckle. “Is that what you want?”

He doesn’t inhale sharply, though the need to is there, looking oddly submissive for a moment as the hand clamped around his neck lets go, fingers trailing down to his collar and he knows what the other is after, playing up to it and lapping at the attention for it had been far too long since anyone had paid him attention like this.

“No, but neither do you. You know I’m more fun than Lloegr.”