Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 5/??]
anonymous
May 21 2009, 17:15:34 UTC
“Darling Spain, because I love you so, I will tell you this, for your own well-being.” In contrast to the words, his tone held not one bit of affection.
“Que?” Spain asked, straightening up from the fighting stance cautiously, still remaining alert.
“It would be best if you attend to your colonies while you still can. And keep your nose out of our affairs.” He did not - could not - miss the double meaning there, and Spain scowled deeply at the implication. “You will not be alone in the New World from now on, and nothing you do is going to change that.”
Spain blinked, a sudden image of a small golden-haired infant flashing in his vision, and he felt a pang of guilt and bewilderment lancing through his heart.
“No, of course not…”
“If you understand, then fine.” The other nation tossed his hair and straightened his clothes as best as he could, frowning at an imaginary speck of dust on the dark fur cuffs of his coat. “Farewell, mon frere, I will see you again… Hopefully on better terms.”
Still stunned, Spain nodded automatically, mustering up another smile as he led his guest to the front door, getting his revenge by giving France a not-too-gentle shove on the way out.
Turning to the sullen child who had been watching from a doorway, he sighed and grinned apologetically.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Romano.”
“Does this mean you have to leave again?”
“Yes. I have to take care of some things, you understand.”
“I… You… Don’t you dare hurt yourself again, you idiot. I hate having to take care of you!” Not that he did much in the way of tending to one’s injuries, but the thought was there.
“No, no, I’ll be careful this time, I promise. I’ll return home as soon as possible.”
“You better!” Romano stamped his foot peevishly, eyes suspiciously wet. “Stupid boss, stupid colonies…”
“Ah ha hah…” Not knowing what else to do, Spain held out a hand invitingly. “Come on, Romano, let’s go see to the horses together.”
Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 6/??]
anonymous
May 21 2009, 18:40:30 UTC
He opened one eye and saw a sweet childish face looking down at him, little brows furrowed in worry.
“Ah!” America scampered off again instinctively, though he remained in sight this time, half hidden behind a bush.
Blinking the sleep away, Spain stretched and smiled, sitting back against the cottonwood tree. He waited until America gave into his curiosity and finally toddled over, holding something in his arms.
“What’s this?” he asked, as he was offered something small and round and red-orange. Spain thought it was an apple until he was encouraged to bite into the soft juicy flesh, and his taste buds were overwhelmed with the sweet-sour flavor. No, not like an apple at all. But he grinned broadly after the initial surprise and patted America on the head, thanking him for the gift.
The little nation chirped, pleased at the attention, and then he tugged at Spain’s sleeve, pointing to the bandages with a concerned frown.
“Ah, these? Well, I was beat up pretty badly when I went back home. My neighbors are violent… and very greedy.” Sounds familiar, he thought with wry amusement. “I guess I deserved it, in a way… But talking about that is boring, let’s do something more interesting!”
Spain got to his feet and America trailed behind him as they approached the grazing horses. From his excited squeaks, it sounded like America was delighted to see Amado again, and even offered the still-proud stallion another of the odd fruits which Spain promptly had to take away.
“I don’t think we should feed the horses something strange like this, little one.”
America pouted, but as mercurial as the wind, his mood changed, and he reached up on tip-toe and patted Amado’s nose fondly, giggling when the horse tried to nibble on his straw-colored hair.
“It’s time then,” Spain thought to himself. “Though I will miss them both dearly.”
He then picked America up and placed him squarely on Amado’s blanket-covered back. The child made a noise of surprise and held on tightly to Spain’s shirt, afraid to let go. Laughing, the older nation made soothing noises until America summoned up the courage to twine chubby fingers into the horse’s mane.
With one hand gripping the back of the child’s shirt, Spain walked alongside Amado and America, every now and then explaining the basic commands as best as he could. The language barrier had lessened in his absence, and America quickly picked up “go” and more importantly, “stop.”
They spent the rest of the daylight hours together in this manner, taking a break once to eat and go through the proper care of a horse, cleaning and wiping down, feeding and watering. Spain spoke as clearly as he could, having caught a glimpse of the other child skulking around in the tall grass a while ago and sincerely hoped that they would not forget his instructions. He placed the rest of his trust in the intelligence and loyalty of his steeds, and in God in heaven above.
Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 7/8]
anonymous
May 21 2009, 18:46:31 UTC
Just as the sun set, America demonstrated the best horsemanship that Spain could possibly expect in such limited time, seeing as his student was mentally two years old and could not speak any language he knew. Sighing in regret, he decided that he could no longer put off the inevitable.
“Listen to me, America…”
The child stopped attempting to make Amado go faster than a walk and looked at him, heartbreakingly innocent.
“I… won’t be visiting you anymore, as much as I would like to.” He paused, the words he needed to say becoming increasingly difficult to express. “I did my best to discourage them, but France and England, and maybe others, plan to settle in these lands. You will meet them soon…”
Spain stroked America’s hair thoughtfully, wondering which one would find this child, what it would mean to his own children and the rest of the world. But such deep thoughts did not suit him, and instead he smiled weakly at America.
“They aren’t bad people, but… well, you’ll see. Maybe you’ll even come to like them. They’d definitely like you.”
By now they had wandered a fair distance away from the rest of the camp, two saddled mares in tow. With one last kiss on those pink cheeks, Spain finally let go of America, who looked back at him in dawning realization of their separation. His blue eyes instantly welled up with tears, and he made a brave effort to not sniffle too loudly, ultimately failing. This caused Spain to blink back his own tears, and he buried his face into Amado’s mane, stroking the horse’s neck.
“Take care of him, mi hermano,” he whispered into stallion’s ears, and Amado whickered softly, encouragingly. Now that it was actually happening, Spain almost doubted that he could go through with this sacrifice, even after all of the logical and sensible reasons he invented during the long voyage back to the New World - that he should leave America with a reminder of what it had been like to be independent and strong, the means to explore wherever he wanted, the strength to be himself no matter what may happen when the others arrived…
But in the end, Spain just smiled. He did not say good bye. He only said…
Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 21 2009, 19:38:27 UTC
[Epilogue]
He could sense a shadow blocking the sunlight though closed eyelids, and so he blinked and looked up to see a familiar face, eyes the color of the afternoon sky and hair the streaming gold of cities conquered centuries ago.
“I dreamt that I finally discovered the fountains of youth,” Spain murmured, running a thumb across the smooth flushed cheek of the nation looking down at him.
Grinning, America rolled his eyes, in his trademark “Europeans are so weird” expression.
“I saw the seven cities of gold glittering in the sun,” he continued, combing his fingers through perfectly styled strands of hair while America turned his face slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.
“And I found the lost city of El Dorado.” Pulling the younger nation closer, Spain touched his lips to the other’s smiling mouth, and then laughed in surprise when the other nation planted kisses all over his face.
“Umm, weren’t the cities of gold supposed to be a little further south?” America asked archly. He then yelped as Spain nudged him meaningfully in the groin and moved off to let him sit up.
“I was a little lost back then,” Spain whispered, the last of his dreams of glory days already fading away.
“Hey, Spain… don’t look so sad.” America, always the hero, forever unable to resist someone looking distressed. “I do remember you, you know, and the horses. Mostly the horses.”
“Well, that makes me feel better. Spoiled English brat.” Though Spain did not sound particularly angry.
America’s answering laughter sounded bright and earnest and infectious. “But I never said thank you, right? Well… Gracias.”
Spain felt his heart break and heal all at once, and he smiled, dazzling as the sun. “De nada.”
It was nothing, he said. But it meant everything to hear that from the child he had once captured and then freed... only to be captured by him in return.
[And there is my bid for more Spain/America orz. I would have written even more if I could, but I felt that this is my best attempt at the prompt. I enjoyed writing this and hope that y'all enjoyed reading it. Muchas gracias!]
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 21 2009, 19:57:16 UTC
This anon has followed this story faithfully to this conclusion, and is so, so glad she stuck with it. This is stunning. So absolutely touching and well-crafted from start to finish, and your beautiful grasp of prose never faltered--if there were weak points in the narration, I didn't spot them (and I am picky about my prose).
I love your descriptions, your characterization of Spain is so well-done: his interactions with Romano, which had started to grate on me after the 20th or so Spain/Romano fic with the exact same dynamics--you made his clueless responses believable, and you fleshed out a character that we really only see the goofy side of. I love that you gave him that touch of sentimentality and romanticism, and his rapport with America and his horse and the land and France (I love you for including France and for making it tense and ugly and so IC). And the ending was glorious.
This is the fic that basically singlehandedly made me actually interested in Spain and America's interaction, when I hadn't really thought much about it before. ... And now I ship it, too, damn you. *shakes fist* XD
I'm going to be coming back to this one. ♥ Again, thank you for writing such a beautiful fill for us. I hope you write more of these two in the future. (:
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 22 2009, 18:25:30 UTC
Thank you so much for this comment, it makes my day as a writer. Seriously, I am blushing here, writing is so not my strongest area.
I had a hard time deciding how to go about this fic, especially since Spain's portrayal is rather one-dimensional, and I'm glad that it worked out. I wasn't even intending to write the other characters in, but decided to go ahead. (France is my favorite character, but I admit he makes such a delicious villain lol.)
Ah yes, I would write more Spain/America if the inspiration ever came! Rare pairings will be the death of me, but in this case, I convince myself it is worth it~
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 22 2009, 03:48:03 UTC
This was wonderful. As someone living in the Southwestern United States, the connection between America and Spain is kind of obvious to me (especially with the lack of Mexico-tan and South America-tans), but I'd never thought anyone would ever write anything with them together!
I loved the Spanish at the end. After all that Spain went through with England and France during the course of this story, it seemed a bit victorious to see America speak his language after the other two staked claim to him.
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 22 2009, 18:30:00 UTC
Writer!anon appreciates the comment and agrees that there should be more Spain and America, even if there were a Mexico-tan in the future.
Out of the three main colonial powers, I think America has more of Spain's temperament, and they would probably get along quite well in modern times. Of course I'm also a little biased. *lives in the Southwest, too*
Ahh darn it's finished. The whole story was so enjoyable and the characters so IC and realistic that I kinda lost myself in reading it. What makes this story stand out so much is that it just isn't like the usual formula for so many of the other stories on this meme which really gets so tiresome after awhile.
Amazing. You took an idea and ran with it and created a stunning piece of literature. The last bit at the end was a beautifully sweet touch.
Thank you so much for sharing. You have made one anon's extremely stressful week so much better.
No, thank you for coming up with such a great prompt! I just wanted to tell a good story, something unique and worth reading, and I'm very glad that you enjoyed my offering.
"stunning piece of literature"?!!! I am blushing with glee. Thank you again!
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 22 2009, 12:31:17 UTC
I was just thinking that there should be more to do with Spain and America, considering Spain landed there first out of the European powers at the time. And then I find this!
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 24 2009, 11:41:37 UTC
Ohh, I can't express my love for this fic accurately. It's so wonderfully thoughtful and wistful and it makes so much sense. Spain was beautifully characterized... Just, in a word, perfect.
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 24 2009, 18:41:09 UTC
This anon always pictured Antonio to be like this. He's sort of pushed around and passive, but is very caring about others and very hard working. I love the imagery of baby Alfred and the horses, and teared up when they were going to split. If I ever am able to find time, I shall fan art this for your sake writer anon!
Re: Free As The Birds, Wild As The Winds [pt 8/8]
anonymous
May 24 2009, 19:27:11 UTC
I'm so glad to see some America/Spain stuff! People always seem to forget that Spain was essentially the first country to find the continents. And like others before me, I especially loved Antonio's characterization. This is one of the best things I've read here. Anon-reviewer loved you, author-anon! <3
“Que?” Spain asked, straightening up from the fighting stance cautiously, still remaining alert.
“It would be best if you attend to your colonies while you still can. And keep your nose out of our affairs.” He did not - could not - miss the double meaning there, and Spain scowled deeply at the implication. “You will not be alone in the New World from now on, and nothing you do is going to change that.”
Spain blinked, a sudden image of a small golden-haired infant flashing in his vision, and he felt a pang of guilt and bewilderment lancing through his heart.
“No, of course not…”
“If you understand, then fine.” The other nation tossed his hair and straightened his clothes as best as he could, frowning at an imaginary speck of dust on the dark fur cuffs of his coat. “Farewell, mon frere, I will see you again… Hopefully on better terms.”
Still stunned, Spain nodded automatically, mustering up another smile as he led his guest to the front door, getting his revenge by giving France a not-too-gentle shove on the way out.
Turning to the sullen child who had been watching from a doorway, he sighed and grinned apologetically.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Romano.”
“Does this mean you have to leave again?”
“Yes. I have to take care of some things, you understand.”
“I… You… Don’t you dare hurt yourself again, you idiot. I hate having to take care of you!” Not that he did much in the way of tending to one’s injuries, but the thought was there.
“No, no, I’ll be careful this time, I promise. I’ll return home as soon as possible.”
“You better!” Romano stamped his foot peevishly, eyes suspiciously wet. “Stupid boss, stupid colonies…”
“Ah ha hah…” Not knowing what else to do, Spain held out a hand invitingly. “Come on, Romano, let’s go see to the horses together.”
[end interlude]
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“Ah!” America scampered off again instinctively, though he remained in sight this time, half hidden behind a bush.
Blinking the sleep away, Spain stretched and smiled, sitting back against the cottonwood tree. He waited until America gave into his curiosity and finally toddled over, holding something in his arms.
“What’s this?” he asked, as he was offered something small and round and red-orange. Spain thought it was an apple until he was encouraged to bite into the soft juicy flesh, and his taste buds were overwhelmed with the sweet-sour flavor. No, not like an apple at all. But he grinned broadly after the initial surprise and patted America on the head, thanking him for the gift.
The little nation chirped, pleased at the attention, and then he tugged at Spain’s sleeve, pointing to the bandages with a concerned frown.
“Ah, these? Well, I was beat up pretty badly when I went back home. My neighbors are violent… and very greedy.” Sounds familiar, he thought with wry amusement. “I guess I deserved it, in a way… But talking about that is boring, let’s do something more interesting!”
Spain got to his feet and America trailed behind him as they approached the grazing horses. From his excited squeaks, it sounded like America was delighted to see Amado again, and even offered the still-proud stallion another of the odd fruits which Spain promptly had to take away.
“I don’t think we should feed the horses something strange like this, little one.”
America pouted, but as mercurial as the wind, his mood changed, and he reached up on tip-toe and patted Amado’s nose fondly, giggling when the horse tried to nibble on his straw-colored hair.
“It’s time then,” Spain thought to himself. “Though I will miss them both dearly.”
He then picked America up and placed him squarely on Amado’s blanket-covered back. The child made a noise of surprise and held on tightly to Spain’s shirt, afraid to let go. Laughing, the older nation made soothing noises until America summoned up the courage to twine chubby fingers into the horse’s mane.
With one hand gripping the back of the child’s shirt, Spain walked alongside Amado and America, every now and then explaining the basic commands as best as he could. The language barrier had lessened in his absence, and America quickly picked up “go” and more importantly, “stop.”
They spent the rest of the daylight hours together in this manner, taking a break once to eat and go through the proper care of a horse, cleaning and wiping down, feeding and watering. Spain spoke as clearly as he could, having caught a glimpse of the other child skulking around in the tall grass a while ago and sincerely hoped that they would not forget his instructions. He placed the rest of his trust in the intelligence and loyalty of his steeds, and in God in heaven above.
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“Listen to me, America…”
The child stopped attempting to make Amado go faster than a walk and looked at him, heartbreakingly innocent.
“I… won’t be visiting you anymore, as much as I would like to.”
He paused, the words he needed to say becoming increasingly difficult to express.
“I did my best to discourage them, but France and England, and maybe others, plan to settle in these lands. You will meet them soon…”
Spain stroked America’s hair thoughtfully, wondering which one would find this child, what it would mean to his own children and the rest of the world. But such deep thoughts did not suit him, and instead he smiled weakly at America.
“They aren’t bad people, but… well, you’ll see. Maybe you’ll even come to like them. They’d definitely like you.”
By now they had wandered a fair distance away from the rest of the camp, two saddled mares in tow. With one last kiss on those pink cheeks, Spain finally let go of America, who looked back at him in dawning realization of their separation. His blue eyes instantly welled up with tears, and he made a brave effort to not sniffle too loudly, ultimately failing. This caused Spain to blink back his own tears, and he buried his face into Amado’s mane, stroking the horse’s neck.
“Take care of him, mi hermano,” he whispered into stallion’s ears, and Amado whickered softly, encouragingly. Now that it was actually happening, Spain almost doubted that he could go through with this sacrifice, even after all of the logical and sensible reasons he invented during the long voyage back to the New World - that he should leave America with a reminder of what it had been like to be independent and strong, the means to explore wherever he wanted, the strength to be himself no matter what may happen when the others arrived…
But in the end, Spain just smiled. He did not say good bye. He only said…
“America, be free.”
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He could sense a shadow blocking the sunlight though closed eyelids, and so he blinked and looked up to see a familiar face, eyes the color of the afternoon sky and hair the streaming gold of cities conquered centuries ago.
“I dreamt that I finally discovered the fountains of youth,” Spain murmured, running a thumb across the smooth flushed cheek of the nation looking down at him.
Grinning, America rolled his eyes, in his trademark “Europeans are so weird” expression.
“I saw the seven cities of gold glittering in the sun,” he continued, combing his fingers through perfectly styled strands of hair while America turned his face slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.
“And I found the lost city of El Dorado.” Pulling the younger nation closer, Spain touched his lips to the other’s smiling mouth, and then laughed in surprise when the other nation planted kisses all over his face.
“Umm, weren’t the cities of gold supposed to be a little further south?” America asked archly. He then yelped as Spain nudged him meaningfully in the groin and moved off to let him sit up.
“I was a little lost back then,” Spain whispered, the last of his dreams of glory days already fading away.
“Hey, Spain… don’t look so sad.” America, always the hero, forever unable to resist someone looking distressed. “I do remember you, you know, and the horses. Mostly the horses.”
“Well, that makes me feel better. Spoiled English brat.” Though Spain did not sound particularly angry.
America’s answering laughter sounded bright and earnest and infectious. “But I never said thank you, right? Well… Gracias.”
Spain felt his heart break and heal all at once, and he smiled, dazzling as the sun. “De nada.”
It was nothing, he said. But it meant everything to hear that from the child he had once captured and then freed... only to be captured by him in return.
[And there is my bid for more Spain/America orz. I would have written even more if I could, but I felt that this is my best attempt at the prompt. I enjoyed writing this and hope that y'all enjoyed reading it. Muchas gracias!]
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I love your descriptions, your characterization of Spain is so well-done: his interactions with Romano, which had started to grate on me after the 20th or so Spain/Romano fic with the exact same dynamics--you made his clueless responses believable, and you fleshed out a character that we really only see the goofy side of. I love that you gave him that touch of sentimentality and romanticism, and his rapport with America and his horse and the land and France (I love you for including France and for making it tense and ugly and so IC). And the ending was glorious.
This is the fic that basically singlehandedly made me actually interested in Spain and America's interaction, when I hadn't really thought much about it before. ... And now I ship it, too, damn you. *shakes fist* XD
I'm going to be coming back to this one. ♥ Again, thank you for writing such a beautiful fill for us. I hope you write more of these two in the future. (:
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I had a hard time deciding how to go about this fic, especially since Spain's portrayal is rather one-dimensional, and I'm glad that it worked out. I wasn't even intending to write the other characters in, but decided to go ahead. (France is my favorite character, but I admit he makes such a delicious villain lol.)
Ah yes, I would write more Spain/America if the inspiration ever came! Rare pairings will be the death of me, but in this case, I convince myself it is worth it~
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I loved the Spanish at the end. After all that Spain went through with England and France during the course of this story, it seemed a bit victorious to see America speak his language after the other two staked claim to him.
Gracias Anon. Te quiero. ~♥
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Out of the three main colonial powers, I think America has more of Spain's temperament, and they would probably get along quite well in modern times. Of course I'm also a little biased. *lives in the Southwest, too*
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Amazing. You took an idea and ran with it and created a stunning piece of literature. The last bit at the end was a beautifully sweet touch.
Thank you so much for sharing. You have made one anon's extremely stressful week so much better.
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"stunning piece of literature"?!!! I am blushing with glee. Thank you again!
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With HORSES!! ♥♥
It was lovely.
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Thank you.
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