Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED
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It was a bear. A very big bear.
Romano twisted so he was completely facing the bear. He started to back up into the creek.
The monstrous bear roared.
Romano gulped. “Ah, nice bear?”
He backed up a few more steps, knee deep in the water. The bear dropped to its front legs and moved after him.
“Help me!” Romano turned to run but his foot hit a rock and he fell sideways in the water. He sputtered and managed to sit up. The bear was just above him and raised a huge paw. Romano screamed.
The bear suddenly lurched back. The bear’s eyes seemed to widen in surprise, which Romano mirrored, as the bear was in the air and falling further down stream. It hit the water with a large splash and came up immediately, growling its displeasure.
“Bad!” Romano knew the voice but he still had to turn his head to stare at America, who was waving a finger at the bear.
The bear shook its wet fur and made a sound that Romano would have called a roar if it hadn’t sounded so petulant.
America crossed her arms. “Be nice!”
The bear shook itself again and ambled out of the water. Romano tensed as it approached America. Protect her!
He stood just as the bear reached her. “Hurt America and I will kill you!”
The bear stared at him for a moment. Romano silently congratulated himself. Take that, bear!
It huffed and nuzzled America, who giggled, before disappearing into the woods.
“You need to be careful!” Romano squeezed some of the water out of his sleeves.
“He was just playing, Romo!”
“It’s Romano.”
“I like calling you Romo!” America smiled at him.
Romano blushed. He hoped Antonio never heard that. The bastard would somehow find that hilarious.
“Can we play somewhere where there are no bears?” Romano paused, remembering the dangers of the lands Spain conquered. “Or wolves, big snakes, big cats, poisonous snakes, or lizard things in the water, or things that can hurt you?”
America looked puzzled. “There’s really a place like that?”
Romano looked up the sky for help. The setting sun offered no help, just a mental slap to the head. He hadn’t realized how late it was. “Shit!”
“Shit?” America cocked her head to the side. “What’s that?”
Romano blushed again. “Don’t say that!”
“Why not?”
“It’s a bad word.” Romano frowned; he didn’t feel bad swearing in front of Spain. He shouldn’t feel bad at all in front of America. He had just met her!
She looked up at him with bright blue eyes. “But you said it!”
“I shouldn’t have. Sorry.” Romano winced. “Hey, America…I need to get back to Spain.”
“Across the sea?”
“No-Spain like us. He’s south of where you found me. Can you take me back where you found me? Or to Frenanda’s land?”
“Is Frenanda the nice dark haired lady who wears a lot of red paint?”
Romano shivered when he realized who America was talking about. “That’s Azteca. Frenanda has her lands now.”
“What happened to Azteca?” Her eyes were wide and nervous, not having an idea to the answer but fearing what it could be.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask Spain…maybe she found knew lands?” Romano smiled weakly. Honestly, Romano was just happy she was gone. Of all the crazy heathens in this land, Azteca scared him the most, with her sacrifices and weird art.
America chewed on her bottom lip. “Is Fernanda friendly?”
“I guess…but you wouldn’t want to be friends with her. She’s such a cry baby.”
America stared at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She smiled and held out her hand. “Let’s go!”
Romano took her hand and once again, the world around them blurred. Lush forests disappeared and the hard, dry earth became visible, with few plants clinging onto life.
America stopped suddenly. Romano almost continued, stopped by his hold on her hand. He recognized the land, but they still weren’t close enough for him to know where to go. “We’re almost there, right?”
“Azteca’s lands are that way.” America pointed south.
“Come on.” He tugged her hand.
America did not budge.
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--Fernanda would be Mexico/New Spain.
--I use “Azteca” to represent the Nahuatl speaking peoples even though Aztec technically refers to the people of Tenochtitlan. I was going to call her Mexica (after the name the Aztecs called themselves, Mexica Tenochca) but I thought that would get confusing for my poor headcanon. (But the history of Mesoamerica is confusing anyway when you are learning it in Spanish and English at the same time.)
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Ah, I kind of forgot that was part of his name. I remembered Carriedo but not Fernandez! I just used the feminine version of the King of Spain at the time of Cortez's conquering of the Aztecs.
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"Shit? What's that?" or "I like calling you Romo!"
So funny, and great historical accuracy. I hope you write other stuff on this kink!
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My favorite part about writing Hetalia is the history :)
I had to a project for Spanish of pre-Colombian cultures so I couldn't resist including a bit.
Oh, and do you mind that I am going to skip soon to their teenage years? (Aka America's Revolution--I have plans with America, Romano, and the Bad Friends Trio.)
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I'm glad you like it! Romano is fun to write. Hopefully he's not too OOC. I didn't really like him before I started writing this and found some amazing, adorable pics with child!Romano and Spain on Pixiv
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*****
“Aren’t you going to come with me?”
“I’m not suppose to go farther.”
“Why?”
“Nizhoni says there are monsters that shine in the sun and have sticks that go boom! They ride giant dogs and hurt people.”
An image of Antonio and his soldiers flashed in Romano’s mind but he dismissed it. They weren’t monsters. The Spaniards were men of God. “There aren’t any monsters. And I would protect you if there were!”
America shook her head. “I stay here.”
“But…” Romano didn’t want to go back alone. He wanted America to meet Antonio; he would instantly think she was adorable. Then the three of them would go back to Europe together and Romano could show America his lands. What else did France do with woman before they went home with him? He kissed them, put his hands all over them, and usually got slapped by them…
“You…” Romano wracked his brain for something he knew would piss someone off. “You Godless heathen!”
“Heathen?” America asked. "What's a heathen?"
Romano wasn’t exactly sure what that word meant but Spain was always going on about ‘heathens.’ “Ah…stupid, bad person?”
America’s jaw dropped, something Romano expected from watching France, and then she raised her hand. Romano prepared for his cheek to get slapped.
Pain without warning blossomed in his nose. Romano’s hand rose to cover the injured flesh and tears welled up in his eyes. “What was that for?”
“You called me a mean name!” America said, crossing her arms.
“I want you to come home with me!” Romano sobbed.
“What?”
“It’s what big brother France does. Girls slap him and then go home with him. But you hurt me.” Romano cried louder.
“Don’t cry!” America moved closer.
Romano sniffled. “But it hurts.”
“What do the girls do after they slap France?”
His cheeks heated up. “They kiss him.”
“Like this?” America stood on her tippy toes and kissed Romano on the nose. It hurt but Romano had never been happier. “I’m sorry.”
Romano prepared to ask her to come home with him again when a voice called out, “Where are you, my cute little Romano?”
America pulled away.
“Stupid jerk!” Romano yelled over his shoulder.
Antonio stopped in his tracks, noticing America. He smiled. “Hola, little one.”
Romano scowled at him but felt happy at the same time. Now Spain could meet America and claim her as a colony. Antonio would take her back to Europe with them and Romano would show her his land. They could play every day!
America gasped and Romano turned around in time to see her run. “America!”
He took a step forward, intending to follow her but she disappeared.
“Who was that, Romano?” Antonio asked, ruffling his hair.
“America.” Romano grumbled and tried to glare up at the older nation. He had to look away from the bright glare of Antonio’s armor reflecting the light of the dying sun.
“Oi.” Antonio looked down at Romano. “What happened to your nose?”
“You asshole!” Romano kicked Spain in the shin.
****
“It’s time to go, Romano.”
“No.” Romano said, not moving his gaze from the north horizon. He had looked for America many times but had not found her again.
Antonio grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him onto his shoulder. “You’re getting too big for this.”
Romano hit his back. “Let me go! I want to wait for America!”
“So cute Romano! You’ll see her again. This New World is mine, no matter what that little upstart thinks.”
Romano lifted his head and watched the lands Spain walked away from, hoping to see America one last time.
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--My headcanon says Spain is really against non-catholic religions/people in this time period between Ferdinand and Isabella’s Inquisition and the work of Spanish missionaries. And while Romano holds Rome, the center of the Catholic faith, I do not see him understanding it all because he is a kid.
--‘Little upstart’ would be England, who was a developing empire in the late 1500’s.
--Raise your hand if you think Romano is a bit of a masochist. *author!anon raises hand*
So next update should be around Wednesday. At least I am hoping for Wednesday, but finals might make it a bit hard.
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I just love how cute America and Romano are together! And Romano's masochistic interpretations of Francis's lady-gettin' skills! So funny!
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****
Romano carefully checked himself in the mirror. There was no way he would embarrass himself in front of America. He had spent decades on gentlemanly manners to impress her.
He smirked at his reflection. He wore a fine waistcoat and pressed trousers. Both his stockings and shoes were new and clean.
Romo! He could imagine her surprised glee. Romano would kiss her hand and she would giggle. He had planned for and dreamed of meeting her again for over a century.
He grabbed his coat-blue, because that was America’s color-and checked again to make sure everything from his hair to the gold buttons to his shoes was perfect.
Romano stepped out the door, confident and ready to find America.
“Watch out!” was his only warning before someone slammed into him.
Romano was shoved to the ground, with the stranger on top of him, and they slid several feet across the floor. He heard his coat tear. Romano looked up, ready to yell at the asshole for ruining his clothing. Bright blue eyes made him pause.
“Sorry about that. Thought everyone was downstairs.”
Romano gaped at the blonde sitting on him. The asshole was his America! Not the genteel lady Romano imagined but a short haired blonde in a dirty shirt and breeches and stockings with holes in them! Romano blushed at the indecency of it.
(The heat on his cheeks was not in any way related to America sitting on him. Romano was not a pervert. He was nothing like Prussia or Antonio or God forbid, France.)
America stood up and offered her hand. Romano used it to stand up. He stared up at America-she had to be at least a hand taller than him. His cheeks heated up. This was not the way he imagined meeting her again. “America-“
She turned, either not hearing him or ignoring him, and dashed into a nearby room. Bangs and clanks echoed in the hallway. Romano edged near the door, half afraid she might barrel into him again, and cleared his throat. “Can I help you?”
America looked up, her head hovering over a desk draw. “Nah. It has to be in here-ah, got it!”
America pulled something out, her hand clenched tightly around it as a thin metal chain drifted over her hand. She smiled and Romano couldn’t help smiling back.
She walked over to him and his heart pounded frantically. America grabbed his hand. “Come on-everyone’s downstairs.”
Romano knew Antonio was here-he arrived with the smirking bastard after all-but a single person was not referred to as everyone. “Who els-“
America ignored or didn’t notice his question as she practically dragged him down the stairs with her.
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--France enters the Revolutionary War in 1778 and Spain, with their alliance with France, enters in 1779. But of course, both have been unofficially supporting Americans (like selling ammunition)
--I used http://www.memorialhall.mass.edu/activities/dressup/index.html to base off clothing but my mental picture (and a good number of Revolutionary War paintings) seem to go more with 1700 than the actual 1770s.
My draft for the next part is kind of missing so I am re-writing it. So Sunday should be my next posting time.
recaptcha-- Shelia incite. O.o Australia has nothing to do with this.
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*Thumbs-up with the power of a thousand charging bulls!*
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