((OOC: Approval granted from Austria and Sweden mun. I’ve waited about a week and haven’t heard anything back from France, N. Italy, or Russia mun, so I’m assuming the go-ahead from them as well.))A small boy who had not been there only moments before lay on the floor of the Sorting Room. His face and blond hair, swept back under the hat that had
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Sweden was in the middle of stirring up the religious rebellions in his empire, again. Sweden was prolonging yet another war that kept Holy Roman Empire from returning to his beloved Italy. Sweden was eying his northern territory. And Sweden was in the middle of thoroughly, devastatingly routing his men at Zusmarhausen.
Even if Holy Roman Empire had rationalized that this was all a dream, Sweden currently shared a high ranking with France on his list of most hated people.
But Holy Roman Empire was unarmed, and he honestly lacked the energy to attack Sweden anyway, and it would still hurt if Sweden defeated him again. So he settled for glaring. Very violently. And growling, "Bastard."
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"'nd'rst'nd that I had m'ord'rs."
The goat on his shoulder began pawing at Sweden's shoulder. He got on his knees to set the goat with his brothers. The biggest straw goat (which Sweden had named Ronnie) was the first to hesitantly step forward and approach the newcomer country.
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So he crossed his arms and turned his back on Sweden with a "Hmph!"
Holy Roman Empire had been too busy glaring at Sweden's face to notice the little straw goats, or he might have been curious about them despite himself.
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Sweden sighed. He had long forgotten how stubborn the Holy Roman Empire had been.
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This clearly could not be considered fraternizing with the enemy, because he wasn't aware the julbocken belonged to Sweden. For all he knew, Sweden had left and these were the next thing to visit him in this strange dream-room.
Holy Roman Empire had to admit that they were a little cute; he could easily imagine Italy liking them and finding them adorable. And so the straw goats had hit upon his greatest weakness. He held his hand out, wondering if he should try to pet one.
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Holy Roman Empire blushed, embarrassed at being caught smiling fondly at straw goats that might be Sweden's. He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest again. "I wasn't going to do anything," he lied.
Stubborn? Just a bit.
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Ronnie, as mentioned, was the biggest one. The ones next to it were Slim and Gunnar. The one that had been on Sweden's shoulder was Joakim. The ones he unconsciously dubbed the twins (for they had the same peculiar curve in their horns) were Bertil and Raine. The three that had yet to notice the Holy Roman Empire were Stefan, Conny, and Torsten. And the last three, a paler shade of straw than the others, were Keke, Mika, and Kimi.
And by now all except the one's that didn't notice him were prancing in front of the little empire, trying to amuse him.
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But Holy Roman Empire was tired, he felt terrible, his people were suffering from the wars, he was far from the person he most wanted to see, his body was in pain, and all of this was Sweden's fault, damnit. Just because Sweden wasn't antagonizing him now didn't erase all of that.
He kept his back turned to Sweden and raised his chin so that he wouldn't see any of the goats prancing about, determined not to relent.
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As Sweden picked Keke back up to place on his shoulder, he murmured, "M'sorry," and got up to leave.
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