negentien
[Sorry to make a new post so soon. . . ]
It was a wonderful day to be outside. The weather was perfect, not hot or cold, the sun was mild, there was a comforting breeze shifting the lazy air.
And that's exactly how he felt, lazy. Lying on the blanket with Belgium and Luxembourg, they'd just finished a slightly elaborate picnic.
Belgium was always so good at bringing just the right things to eat. Holland was watching a rabbit move unhurried through the grass, taking the time to sniff at each blade of grass and speck of clover.
He felt the same way, taking the time to look at the sky, to taste the food, to watch his siblings. Taking the time to think about what he was saying, trying not to scold.
It really was the perfect day.
Even back in his subconscious, he wasn't even able to tell that it wasn't real at all.
"Broer." It was Belgium. She sounded relaxed, and he knew that she'd been stressed lately with her government, among other things. He sat up and looked at her, a little surprised to see Luxembourg right next to her, also looking at him intently.
Something told him to turn away from them. Somehow, he knew that what came next would be hard to hear.
"We have to talk, broer." This was Luxembourg. He looked as cheerful and relaxed as Belgium, and Holland watched them both curiously.
"What is it, already?" Did they need help? Even they must know that he'd do just about anything for them. They had their differences, their arguments and pain, but he'd still help them with just about anything.
"Don't you know, you've been stronger than both of us before, broer." Belgium looked thoughtful, shifting at her skirt a little.
"I've always wondered how much stronger I'd be, and Lux too, if you had never been there."
Confusion, at first, then the beginning of a feeling of breaking.
"I'm here, aren't I?" He asked, almost breathless. Was she trying to start an argument?
"I was only trying to help . . . we all made mistakes."
Luxembourg looked at him a bit thoughtfully, then back to Belgium.
"We know you were just trying to help. That's not what I mean."
She leaned a little closer.
"I mean, what if you actually had never been there."
Netherlands sat up a little straighter. He was definitely going to give her a piece of his mind.
"Just think about it. More territory, more population, more resources. Broertje is one of the smallest countries in Europe."
"What if you weren't here and we had what you have."
Speechless didn't even describe this feeling. Netherlands was staring at his siblings in abject anger, not even remotely able to form a reply. Finally, he stood up. This was going to be taken care of right now, so Holland replied to Belgium with an even tone, laced with frustration.
"You know that isn't how it works. Do you mean that's what you wanted the whole time?" He knew that
couldn't be true.
And just as soon as he's asked, everything is gone. He's standing with his siblings, and they're looking at a ruined Mayfield.
Mayfield. Something alarming woke up in his subconscious, then.
"You've been here awhile, right?" Luxembourg was asking, tugging on his sleeve.
"It's all vanishing though. I think you know that. Soon it will all be gone and everybody here will die."
And then he's at home, he's in his territory. Belgium is with him, and they're looking at the distant ocean from the grassy bank of a canal.
"It will vanish like your land does in a flood. You know the land will be gone eventually too, right?"
Even if he had the words to reply to her, Netherlands didn't know if he had the faculties. He's just looking at the ocean, closing his eyes after a moment and inhaling the scents of grass and sea that never seemed to mix, and despite that he'd always enjoyed it anyway. It was still so sunny, but he didn't feel the heat.
When he next opens his eyes, he's back in Mayfield. It's chilly, but he's got his coat and scarf, and Luxembourg on one side, and Belgium on his other. There were lights everywhere, and he sees his friends. Lucas with his table, and Canada with her animals, Hilda with her creatures too. They all seemed to be genuinely enjoying Christmas.
"This is what it's like without you here, broer." Luxembourg told him, and Belgium tugged at his arm a little.
"There's no place for conflict here, broer. And haven't you always been a dissident? There's never any peace when you're around."
Something catches in his body, whether it's his breath, his voice, or maybe it's just a sword through his stomach.
Suddenly he's watching that moment when he left Spain's home, and next it's one of the several times he met the older nation on a battlefield. Holland tastes blood and then he's in the water, copper and salt in his mouth. The land, his land, isn't anywhere in sight.
His siblings are gone, but he can still hear Belgium talking.
"You could at least make it up to us. All those centuries when you just tried to help."
"You could make it up to everybody in Mayfield too. Nobody wants your kind of help, the kind that leads to suffering, that leads to war."
"And at least when it happens, when territory is taken back by the ocean, at least without you here there will be enough for us. Enough for broertje and I. You'll help us for then too, right?"
"Really help us, and not just help yourself?"
The ocean is freezing. Holland takes a breath and just lets himself sink. Despite the horror growing in his heart right along with the pain in his lungs, he'd rather drown than say yes. Not because he wouldn't do anything for Belgium and Luxembourg, not because he wouldn't die for the friends he made in Mayfield - and he already had, several times . . .
No, Holland holds his breath until he wakes up in bed, in the bedroom in the house on Mitchell Road, because he just wants to. Someday he'd be home, someday he'd walk around Amsterdam and be with his people again, and someday he'd be able to ride a bike along some of his favorite country paths and maybe even meet someone who still remembered the Great War. Someday soon.
Netherlands was truly a nation who had never given up, not once, not until he was dead. And because he was a nation, dying didn't even count. He always came back, fighting harder, a ruthless and unholy rebel against every thing and every person that stood up before him. Even when it hurt more than he could bear.
That's what being a dissident means. Belgium had called him a dissident, and it had made him happy.
[A few days later]
[A] - all over town
[It's only a day or so later that he'd desperately looking for Hilda and Canada. Holland will be riding his bike as fast as he can around the town looking for them. By now, he's sure he doesn't believe Mayfield, and even if they weren't real, he misses them and wants them back.
Eventually he brakes slowly, to a stop. Maybe he was just tired but--
No. No, he can't quite remember who it was he was looking for. He'll remember, briefly, a conversation he had with the little girl, Yamame, then swallow and ride slowly back to the house.
Something was wrong. Something was missing and something was wrong, and he just couldn't remember.]
[B] - The Park
[Holland is sitting in front of the Christmas tree in the park. He looks relaxed, almost casual. It might almost be hard to see the axe that he's holding in his lap. He hasn't been able to figure out why he's so upset at the moment, but what matters is he's very upset.]
It was a wonderful day to be outside. The weather was perfect, not hot or cold, the sun was mild, there was a comforting breeze shifting the lazy air.
And that's exactly how he felt, lazy. Lying on the blanket with Belgium and Luxembourg, they'd just finished a slightly elaborate picnic.
Belgium was always so good at bringing just the right things to eat. Holland was watching a rabbit move unhurried through the grass, taking the time to sniff at each blade of grass and speck of clover.
He felt the same way, taking the time to look at the sky, to taste the food, to watch his siblings. Taking the time to think about what he was saying, trying not to scold.
It really was the perfect day.
Even back in his subconscious, he wasn't even able to tell that it wasn't real at all.
"Broer." It was Belgium. She sounded relaxed, and he knew that she'd been stressed lately with her government, among other things. He sat up and looked at her, a little surprised to see Luxembourg right next to her, also looking at him intently.
Something told him to turn away from them. Somehow, he knew that what came next would be hard to hear.
"We have to talk, broer." This was Luxembourg. He looked as cheerful and relaxed as Belgium, and Holland watched them both curiously.
"What is it, already?" Did they need help? Even they must know that he'd do just about anything for them. They had their differences, their arguments and pain, but he'd still help them with just about anything.
"Don't you know, you've been stronger than both of us before, broer." Belgium looked thoughtful, shifting at her skirt a little.
"I've always wondered how much stronger I'd be, and Lux too, if you had never been there."
Confusion, at first, then the beginning of a feeling of breaking.
"I'm here, aren't I?" He asked, almost breathless. Was she trying to start an argument?
"I was only trying to help . . . we all made mistakes."
Luxembourg looked at him a bit thoughtfully, then back to Belgium.
"We know you were just trying to help. That's not what I mean."
She leaned a little closer.
"I mean, what if you actually had never been there."
Netherlands sat up a little straighter. He was definitely going to give her a piece of his mind.
"Just think about it. More territory, more population, more resources. Broertje is one of the smallest countries in Europe."
"What if you weren't here and we had what you have."
Speechless didn't even describe this feeling. Netherlands was staring at his siblings in abject anger, not even remotely able to form a reply. Finally, he stood up. This was going to be taken care of right now, so Holland replied to Belgium with an even tone, laced with frustration.
"You know that isn't how it works. Do you mean that's what you wanted the whole time?" He knew that
couldn't be true.
And just as soon as he's asked, everything is gone. He's standing with his siblings, and they're looking at a ruined Mayfield.
Mayfield. Something alarming woke up in his subconscious, then.
"You've been here awhile, right?" Luxembourg was asking, tugging on his sleeve.
"It's all vanishing though. I think you know that. Soon it will all be gone and everybody here will die."
And then he's at home, he's in his territory. Belgium is with him, and they're looking at the distant ocean from the grassy bank of a canal.
"It will vanish like your land does in a flood. You know the land will be gone eventually too, right?"
Even if he had the words to reply to her, Netherlands didn't know if he had the faculties. He's just looking at the ocean, closing his eyes after a moment and inhaling the scents of grass and sea that never seemed to mix, and despite that he'd always enjoyed it anyway. It was still so sunny, but he didn't feel the heat.
When he next opens his eyes, he's back in Mayfield. It's chilly, but he's got his coat and scarf, and Luxembourg on one side, and Belgium on his other. There were lights everywhere, and he sees his friends. Lucas with his table, and Canada with her animals, Hilda with her creatures too. They all seemed to be genuinely enjoying Christmas.
"This is what it's like without you here, broer." Luxembourg told him, and Belgium tugged at his arm a little.
"There's no place for conflict here, broer. And haven't you always been a dissident? There's never any peace when you're around."
Something catches in his body, whether it's his breath, his voice, or maybe it's just a sword through his stomach.
Suddenly he's watching that moment when he left Spain's home, and next it's one of the several times he met the older nation on a battlefield. Holland tastes blood and then he's in the water, copper and salt in his mouth. The land, his land, isn't anywhere in sight.
His siblings are gone, but he can still hear Belgium talking.
"You could at least make it up to us. All those centuries when you just tried to help."
"You could make it up to everybody in Mayfield too. Nobody wants your kind of help, the kind that leads to suffering, that leads to war."
"And at least when it happens, when territory is taken back by the ocean, at least without you here there will be enough for us. Enough for broertje and I. You'll help us for then too, right?"
"Really help us, and not just help yourself?"
The ocean is freezing. Holland takes a breath and just lets himself sink. Despite the horror growing in his heart right along with the pain in his lungs, he'd rather drown than say yes. Not because he wouldn't do anything for Belgium and Luxembourg, not because he wouldn't die for the friends he made in Mayfield - and he already had, several times . . .
No, Holland holds his breath until he wakes up in bed, in the bedroom in the house on Mitchell Road, because he just wants to. Someday he'd be home, someday he'd walk around Amsterdam and be with his people again, and someday he'd be able to ride a bike along some of his favorite country paths and maybe even meet someone who still remembered the Great War. Someday soon.
Netherlands was truly a nation who had never given up, not once, not until he was dead. And because he was a nation, dying didn't even count. He always came back, fighting harder, a ruthless and unholy rebel against every thing and every person that stood up before him. Even when it hurt more than he could bear.
That's what being a dissident means. Belgium had called him a dissident, and it had made him happy.
[A few days later]
[A] - all over town
[It's only a day or so later that he'd desperately looking for Hilda and Canada. Holland will be riding his bike as fast as he can around the town looking for them. By now, he's sure he doesn't believe Mayfield, and even if they weren't real, he misses them and wants them back.
Eventually he brakes slowly, to a stop. Maybe he was just tired but--
No. No, he can't quite remember who it was he was looking for. He'll remember, briefly, a conversation he had with the little girl, Yamame, then swallow and ride slowly back to the house.
Something was wrong. Something was missing and something was wrong, and he just couldn't remember.]
[B] - The Park
[Holland is sitting in front of the Christmas tree in the park. He looks relaxed, almost casual. It might almost be hard to see the axe that he's holding in his lap. He hasn't been able to figure out why he's so upset at the moment, but what matters is he's very upset.]