Hetalia kink meme part 23
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hetalia kink meme
part 23
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2.
Startled by her sudden waking, he says the only thing he can think of.
"Yia sas."
She smiles at him and bows her head. It's only then he notices the silver chains around her wrists. Oh.
They stand their silently for a few moments - before he realises she has no idea who he is, nor does she speak his language. "...Hello. I am Herakles." A pause. "What is your name?"
She sighs, looks down. "Gomen'nasai. Eigo ga wakamirasen."
He blinks. Well I didn't understand that. However... her voice, the words, the pattern it falls into. That's not English and he knows it. Now if only he had a clue what it was.
He swallows hard. "Where are you from?" he asks, knowing it's pointless.
"Yurushite kudasai. Wakaranai desu." she says, which gives him no answers. His eyes are drawn back to her wings, which are beginning to outstretch from her back. She notices this, and smiles at him. "Sawatte kudasai."
He doesn't know what she's on about. Until she reaches out toward him with one wing.
It is a beautiful, shimmering thing, and so close he can see the shades of violet that occupy it - indigo and magenta and lilac, and back again. The silver and white forming astonishing, intricate patterns like the Persian rugs he thinks he once saw often. Again, he traces his hand across the surface, wondering if he held her in front of a light if he could see through the wings. His hand travels in toward her waist, reaching the point where one of her wrists gently rests. He realises the silver chains have been chosen and shined to exactly match the silver on her wings.
That makes him feel a little sick.
When he focuses again upon her face, he realises she is blushing. "Efharistò," he says, bowing to her with a smile.
Well if she can't understand him he may as well speak in his honest language.
"Do itashimashite." He gives her a curious look, and she smiles. Her tries to look at her, not just the wings; that black hair falls down to her waist, and those black eyes are soft and rounded - and cautious. Light bounces off her white skin, despite it being almost completely dark. She is unearthly still.
He thinks she's beautiful, but unreal. The wings are only part of that.
Her black eyes move behind him, and soon he hears something; footsteps, a crowd of giggling patrons wishing to see the freakshow. He hears Arthur's voice at the front, guiding them through the exhibits.
The woman looks frightened. So does Herakles, he expects. "Prépei na fýgo; prepei..."
A wing stretches out again, reaches the wall and pulls aside a curtain he swears wasn't there before. She frowns at him, sadly. "Ima, demasu ka?"
Her look makes him feel guilty. "Tha epistrépso..." She doesn't understand a word and the footsteps are getting louder; he'll be in trouble if Arthur catches him here, but he doesn't want to just leave her. He doesn't want her not to know he'll see her again.
So he kisses her.
He cups her chin and kisses her as hard as he can, as hard as he has ever kissed anyone; she barely seems to react, but he feels the soft press of her lips. He finds her silver chains with his finger, wraps them around it. I'll come back.
When he pulls back, her eyes are still open. She smiles. "Hajimemashite."
He smiles back and leaves.
Translations for this scene:
"Yia sas." = "Hello." (Greek, formal)
"Gomen'nasai. Eigo ga wakamirasen." = "I'm sorry. I don't speak English." (Japanese)
"Yurushite kudasai. Wakaranai desu." = "My apologies. I don't understand." (Japanese)
"Sawatte kudasai." = "Touch." (Japanese, command)
"Efharistò." = "Thank you." (Greek)
"Do itashimashite." = "You're welcome." (Japanese)
"Prépei na fýgo; prepei..." = "I have to go, have to..." (Greek)
"Ima, demasu ka?" = "Are you leaving?" (Japanese)
"Tha epistrépso..." = "I'll come back..." (Greek)
"Hajimemashite." = "Pleased to meet you."
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Now, why did I do that?
There are obvious reasons, of course. He met an attractive and mysterious woman; of all the ways to react to that, kissing her doesn't seem too outlandish. But that doesn't quite work. Maybe when he was a few years younger, and prone to fits of romantic whim like that - but he's trying to settle down now, now he must earn money and is going to be married...
Yes. His fiancé. The selfish part of him doesn't want to think about her, but he finds he doesn't really have a choice in the matter. He would never describe himself as a chaste man, but he chose the woman to be with him forever and would never betray her trust like that; not only because she will be his wife, but because she is - she has always been - his friend. Here, it is even worse - he isn't risking anything by being unfaithful, here. If he was back home he would have to bare all her fury - which knowing her would be terrifying for any man. Here, he could do anything with anyone - whore himself to all of England - and she would never know. All she has to rely on is her unending faith in him, which she has held since they were children.
It may only have been a kiss, but he doesn't want to prove her wrong.
He hears a quiet niaoú from the edge of his tent, and looks up curiously. He sees Gáta creeping in, fur sticking to his skin. It must be raining harder than I thought. "Yia sou Gáta," he says, taking the animal into his arms and trying to brush some of the water away. You've gotten me into a lot of trouble, he thinks, but decides he can't be angry at such a sweet, gentle creature.
Eventually Gáta is somewhat dry and settles by Herakles' side to sleep. And with all the confusion, and guilt - and intrigue - Herakles decides that is what he wants too.
-
It's warm again, hot even, and the sun is a good companion. They're moving again, and Herakles has to pack; when he takes down the tent and folds it into its wooden crate, he knows it can't have been the same thing he saw the woman - he has to call her something eventually - dive from the top of. It's not possible.
Everything is slowly becoming very surreal.
He wipes the sweat from his brow as he tries to force the juggler's equipment into its box. Why does he need to juggle with a stuffed lion's head anyway? he thinks. Suddenly he is approached by a man, with sun-coloured skin and hair, grinning like a lunatic. "You need a hand?"
Herakles comprehends the sentence, but it does not make much sense. How do I say "I have enough already, thank you?" But the man manages to force the lid down and secure the latch in five seconds, and Herakles smiles gratefully, even if he does notice the slight cracks in the lid it left. "Thank you," he says.
"No problem! Might as well use my power for something, after all!" The man claps him on the shoulder so hard it causes physical pain. Herakles winces. That might bruise. "C'mon, together we can get this down twice as fast!"
He doesn't know what the man is saying, but his enthusiasm is intimidating. "Alfred? Alfred! Where has the stupid boy wandered off to now..."
The man pouts. "Aww," he says. "Well, I better scram. Artie'll be pissed if he sees me hanging 'round the menial labour or whatever. Well, see you round - whoever you are!"
The man runs off in the sunlight, and Herakles frowns. Then he realises. Pure and golden. Stronger than should be physically possible.
That's the eagle.
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He wonders why Arthur wants to keep the groups anyway. Are the workers really a threat to the attractions? What will they do, starve on them? Herakles is here because he needs money, and he suspects he's not alone in this - it's a circus full of the lost and hopeless, he can tell.
Then he remembers the woman was chained. He shivers.
The woman. He must find a name for her. She probably has one, but if she told it to him he would never know. She is beautiful and elegant, and graceful, and mysterious. He could name her after any one of those properties, but it would not help him in restoring his own loyalty to his fiancé.
He supposes he'll name her according to what she is, like Gáta. However "woman" seems a little to broad; she is more than that. She is a flying woman, for one thing, coasting the air on a butterfly's wings.
Yes, that's what she is. A butterfly. Petalouda. He'll call her that, until he can find something else; perhaps some day he can guess her name.
-
It's colder here, wherever it is, and he did hear somewhere Kent was meant to one of the warmest parts of England. He does his usual job, setting up the tent which is far too small for what he saw. He isn't approached by the man - the eagle - this time, perhaps because now he won't get lost in the confusion of packing up. Or simply because he has to rehearse.
Where it's colder, he realises just how threadbare his tent really is. But he's not a rich man. He's slept in the cold and the rain before. If there's one thing he can say for his current landlord it's that he provides a house that's warm and dry, even if he does so at an exorbitant price. Which is, after all, why he's here. It all comes full circle.
Gáta sleeps by his side to keep warm, and yes he took the cat with them when they left. He's not sure why, perhaps he wanted to take his only friend here with him. He wonders what this cat is doing, following him around England when he has no reason to. The animal is serving as his guide, which is nice and all but it does make him wonder why.
It was Gáta who led him to Petalouda.
-
One night, independent of Gáta, he leaves his tent while the show is on. He's cold and restless, and it's actually dry for once so he hopes the walk might cheer him up. He finds himself drawn to the tent, possibly because there's nothing else. But it's warm and bright and pulsing, and such a relief.
It seems as small as ever, as it was when he set it up. He presses himself against the wall and hears the roar of the crowd, their gasps, their laughter. He knows what they do here is nothing that can be considered good, but the happiness it gives these people makes that easy to forget.
"...Best not have 'em hurt each other... Yes yes I know, but you have to think about our costs too folks!" He's fairly sure that's exactly what Arthur said last time. Does the show go on, the exact same every time? That depresses him, for some reason he's not sure of. The magic of it is gone if it's simply rehearsed every time.
As magical as slavery and exploitation can be, anyway.
"Perhaps something... beautiful?"
Of course. Her. Petalouda.
He wants to see it. He wants to see her. He wants to see her beauty, swooping through the air, magical and impossible and all those wonderful things.
But if he sees her, he'll forget, and he'll break his promises and be wrong. He cannot do that to the woman who'll be his wife, to Višnja. So instead he turns around, heads back to his cold, damp tent.
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Just curious; is a!a a Japanese speaker?
Your Japanese for the most part is perfectly fine; there are only two things that caught my eye.
A better translation for "Eigo ga wakarimasen," would be "I do not understand English," as opposed to the more direct "Eigo ga hanashimasen," meaning "I do not speak English." Though in the end, they connote to the same thing.
Also, when I read the romanized "sawattekudasai," I immediately thought of "suwatte," or "sit," as opposed to "touch." I learned two terms for touch - fureru/furerimasu, to touch, and "(~ni) kandou (wo) suru/shimasu," "to be touched by~." If you have the kanji for sawatte, could I see it so I could ask my teacher about it? ouo;;
Okay enough with the Japanese - this fill is great! The language barrier between the two intrigues me as to how their romance will overcome such an obstacle, and your way of telling the story is quite compelling.
I look forward to much, much more!
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(I'm not a Greek speaker either, derp...)
But thank you!
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But anyhow. It's really nice to see you've updated~! <3 And yes, the update is wonderful. As far as I've seen, no major spelling, grammar, word usage or speech pattern problem I see in this update, a great improvement from the first chapter. Hooray! \(^o^)/ Keep up the good work!
It's intriguing to see that, aside from the later complications for their relationship, Herakles and Petalouda have to go through a language and culture barrier. Hopefully they'll find a way round it~ Also, poor Herakles' morality crisis is already starting to get to him. Let me guess, is his fiance fem!Turkey? (I based the guess off her name, Višnja, and I know the Turkish language uses those little symbols on 'š' as well as other letters, but I could be wrong.) I'm a bit bugged by Herakles suddenly and abruptly kissing Petalouda like that, though - unless she wasn't disturbed? Haa, I don't know, might be just me. XD;; As long as he didn't mean any harm, I guess.
You know, it's not just the romance parts I'm anxious to learn about next. The world of the circus they're in intrigues me - the circus politics, the social hierarchy, the performers' working conditions, why exactly performers and workmen aren't allowed to interact, etc. The way the circus works is a mystery in itself, too. I hope we get to have more glimpses of that along the way, along with how the two's romance progresses. :D
Also, "the rather loud man ranting at his brother, who just sighs and accepts it (is that the ticket-seller from before?)" - oh dear! XD Is the yelling man Lovino? So the ticket-seller really is Italy now? XD
I have a lot more questions, but I think I'll just wait for it all to unfold. :D Great fill! I hope you update again soon, dear. :D
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