Fic: The Invasion of Sealand (Hetalia, G)
Title: The Invasion of Sealand
Time Setting: 1978
Warnings: none
Summary: Sealand must repel an invasion of his territory.
Notes: Thank you to puddingcat for beta reading!
The Invasion of Sealand
August, 1978
England said that real nations never had time to sit down and look at nothing, that real nations were always busy and had real populations. What did he know? He's just a jerk, Sealand thought, sitting on the edge of the platform and swinging his legs back and forth. He looked up at the fluffy clouds overhead and smiled. Real nations could take a break and relax, he thought. He couldn't feel any leaks anywhere and he had finished his diplomatic work for the day, even if that jerk England said that postcards written in pencil to everyone in the EEC weren't real diplomacy. Best of all, he thought a little guiltily, his boss had gone off to England's house to do some shopping, and the entire population remaining was watching TV, so Sealand's time was briefly his own. Maybe I'll do some fishing, he thought, looking down from the clouds into the sea. I might catch a whale!
He was still giggling at the thought when a flash of movement caught his eye. A boat, he thought, Is the prince back already? Then, Why would he have more than one boat? He looked up at the sound of a helicopter and watched it land, another helicopter coming in fast behind it. As the blades stilled, men jumped out and ran for the control room. Men with guns. Sealand leapt to his feet, eyes wide. Thirty-five years after construction, the terrible moment had come at last.
He was being invaded.
* * *
OK, Sealand thought, peeping out from behind a filing cabinet. I can deal with this. I'll just throw everyone off the platform, and it'll all be fixed before Prince Roy and Princess Joan finish their shopping. He crouched lower so he could wipe his eyes and tell himself he wasn't crying. The invaders had tied up his crown prince and his entire army, and it wasn't fair. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Principalities don't cry, he thought. On three: one - two -
He froze at the sound of familiar voices, and peeped cautiously out again. Coming through the door, two tall, fair-haired men were talking in low, urgent tones, ignoring the other invaders in the room. Sealand squeaked in outrage and jumped out of hiding.
"Get out of my house!" he yelled.
"There he is, finally," the Netherlands said. "Get him!"
"Where'd you come from?" one of the invaders asked, and grabbed Sealand, who put all his weight into stamping down on the man's foot. "Ow! What's this kid made of? Lead?"
"Iron and concrete," Sealand snapped, and marched up to the Netherlands and Germany. "Go away!" He tried to kick the Netherlands in the shin and flailed fruitlessly as he was held at bay with one long arm.
"Outside," the Netherlands said, grabbing his upper arm and hauling him back out into the ever-present wind. "OK," he said to Germany. "Give him the talk."
"Um," Germany said. "Er." He drew himself up and looked sternly down at Sealand, putting his hands behind his back. "This is now my territory," he said. "I will administer everything to do with it. You will live in my house - I will find something useful for you to do."
Sealand gaped at him, then shook off the Netherlands' hand and glared up, hands on hips. "I know I'm just a kid," he said, "and no one ever visits, but I've got radios, Germany. Even I know the war is over. Hey, stop!" he said as the Netherlands grabbed him again and shook him irritably. "How come you're helping him?" Sealand yelled, feeling dizzy. Germany looked a bit embarrassed, he thought, but now the Netherlands looked really angry.
"This is not an invasion," Germany said, sounding huffy as if he were the one being insulted. "This territory is outside any nation's jurisdiction. It is merely terra nullius and can be claimed by anyone. "
"I'm not terra nullius, I'm a sovereign nation!" Sealand yelled.
"No, you're not," the Netherlands said. "If you were, I wouldn't be able to do this -"
Sealand yelped as he was swung round and flung full force away from the Netherlands and Germany, over the edge of the platform, off his own territory and into the air. He was too surprised even to take a deep a breath as he plummeted sixty foot down and into the North Sea. He sank quickly, the great barnacle-encrusted pillars of the platform filling his vision as he finally landed on the sandbank beneath, sending up flurries of sand. I wish I were made out of something that was better at floating, he thought vaguely, then, in sharp despair, I'm drowning. He closed his eyes and lay there, not feeling so cold any more. After another few minutes he opened his eyes again. I can't drown, he thought. Not unless they throw all my population into the sea too. He sat up quickly, alarming a plaice that had hidden itself in the sand near him. And they didn't throw me off my territory - He patted the sandbank fondly, and looked up at the pillars and the barely-visible surface of the sea above.
He mightn't be built for swimming, he thought, but he could climb.
* * *
Shivering on a perch under the lower platform, Sealand planned his campaign as the sea became more foreboding in the dimming evening light. England said it was impossible for him to remember anything from the time of his construction, but if Sealand thought really hard he could remember all sorts of things, codes and plans and lots of rude jokes about Germany.
"I chased that jerk England's navy away," he muttered. "I can deal with these guys too." He grinned at the memory as he wrung the seawater out of his sleeve. It had been a lot of fun, shooting at England's ships, and even more fun when England realised that mean-spirited nations who never invited their neighbours to tea on the silly basis that their neighbours didn't exist couldn't then turn round and claim those neighbours were making too much noise. He cautiously climbed higher and scrambled up onto the surface of the platform. No one was in sight. What if they were torturing his crown prince? he thought anxiously. What if they'd sent someone to assassinate his boss while he was getting the groceries? He pressed a hand over his heart, but his heartbeat was still sure and steady. First things first, he told himself. Secure the fort, then worry about other things. He crept along the edge of the platform, ducking behind empty oil barrels as he heard laughter. Two of the invaders were chatting and smoking. Sealand surreptitiously picked up a length of metal piping, ready to fight. He breathed a sigh of relief as they finally shivered and headed for the control room again. He didn't really want to have to hit anyone. He sprinted for the ladder to the top platform and was up it faster than he had ever climbed before. Hurray! It was empty of invaders, the idiots hadn't left any sentries to guard their helicopters. Sealand took a look round, just in case any jerks of invading nations happened to be waiting for him, and ran for the first one.
He had no idea how helicopters worked, but that didn't matter. He swung the pipe round and brought it down again and again on the controls until they were cracked and broken, then ran for the edge and jumped down to the lower platform again. He sneaked round until he got to the winch, climbed into the boat that had been brought up and lowered himself back down to the mooring point for the others. Idiots! he thought in triumph, finding no sentries there either. They thought they'd won, he thought, watching the speedboats he'd untied begin to float away towards open sea. They were wrong - they might not know it yet, but they had become his prisoners. He secured the winch cable, hoping they couldn't pull it back up, in case he could use it later.
The next thing, he thought, was to get inside. Someone might have heard the winch, so he had to be quick. He looked ruefully at the water, then clambered out onto one of the pillars, sliding down beneath the waves. Right at the edges of his memory he could feel bulwarks opening, cold water rushing in. It wasn't just the weight of the platforms that kept his territory in place, but the sea itself, inside the hollow pillars. The opening was dark and horrible, but he pushed himself through anyway, climbing up through icy black water on piles of rubble and scrap until his hand closed round the last, rusted rung of a ladder bolted to the wall. He pulled himself up rung by rung until his head broke the surface and he could draw breath once more. The first rung he put his full weight on crumbled beneath him and he dangled for what seemed like an hour until he could shift his grip and pull himself up again. His right palm was warm, which surprised him until he realised he'd cut his hand on the corroded metal. By the time he'd climbed far enough up to find the ledge and door he knew were there his hand was throbbing and sore. Sealand curled up on the ledge, sucking the cut and trying not to cry. He didn't feel like a brave, proud nation. He felt like the little boy he looked, and going to live in Germany's house, where it would be warm and dry and he could get a bandage, for a moment seemed more attractive than sitting all alone in the dark, hurt and scared.
"You don't even speak German," he mumbled. "Get up. Get up, you jerk. Don't be such a baby."
He took his neckerchief off and tied it awkwardly round his hand, then put his hands against the door. Any of his people would have found it difficult to open, but it wasn't just his door, it was part of him and it swung open easily. Sealand stepped out into the lowest deck of his territory and felt some of his optimism return at being back in the light. He slipped up one deck and was almost caught immediately. A door opened in his face and one of the invaders came out, wandering down the corridor as Sealand flattened himself against the wall, giving thanks that the man was an idiot who didn't close doors and find the people hiding behind them. He hurried along and opened the door to the Crown Prince's room, finding him sitting on his bunk, one hand handcuffed to a pipe on the wall, with half the army sitting at the little table, one hand handcuffed to the table leg.
"Hello," Sealand said politely as their eyes widened to see him. "I'm liberating the principality - do you have the phone number of Prince Roy's hotel?"
* * *
Sealand sat up, trying to stretch his arms. He was sure he'd heard - he whooped in pleasure as the sounds resolved themselves into helicopter blades and then gunfire. The liberating army had arrived! It made having his ears boxed by Germany and then being spanked by the Netherlands worthwhile. Once the yelling had died down he got worried, thinking he had been forgotten, but the door opened at last and his prince was there.
"I knew you'd come!" Sealand cried.
"Of course. And I knew you wouldn't give in to the enemy," the prince said, unlocking the handcuffs.
"Course not! From the sea, freedom!" Sealand said, and clenched his injured hand tight so he wouldn't cry like a baby from relief. He had to be dignified and magnanimous in victory, he thought as he was led back up to the main deck. His resolution died the moment he saw Germany and the Netherlands.
"Hah! You jerks are going to be so sorry!" he crowed. "I'm going to make you scrub all the barnacles off my pillars! With toothbrushes!" They didn't say anything, which made him laugh louder. He rummaged through the belongings confiscated from them, and paused, staring at one document. "You have one of my passports!" he said in astonishment, brandishing it in Germany's face. "You have one of my passports? This counts as recognition of my status! And I'm trying you for treason!"
"You moron," the Netherlands muttered at Germany.
"Italy thought it would be an amusing present," Germany said stiffly. "Perhaps we should appeal to the nearest sovereign nation for repatriation?"
"I'm right here! And I'm still trying you for treason."
The Netherlands looked at him in resignation. "May we make a phonecall?"
Sealand thought about it. He wasn't sure if his laws allowed prisoners to make calls, but he could afford to be generous. "One call each," he said. "Then I issue you with the toothbrushes."
They looked at each other and back to him.
"May I have the phone first?" the Netherlands asked politely.
* * *
It was very interesting to conduct an international court case, even if no one else present wanted to admit that was what was happening. England just wandered round the room pretending he couldn't see anyone, and Austria had a look on his face like he could smell something unpleasant.
"I call this court to order!" Sealand said.
"I don't recognise the authority of this court," the Netherlands said quickly.
"Neither do I," Germany said.
"I am merely an impartial observer," Austria said.
"I can't see or hear any of you," England said, pouring himself another cup of tea from his thermos.
"England, why not let us go home?" the Netherlands said, putting a hand on England's arm.
"This is nothing to do with me," England said, as if speaking to no one in particular. "This is not my territory and those poor fools who live here are not subject to my people's laws."
"Because I'm independent!" Sealand said. "And sovereign!"
"I didn't hear that," England said, and held up a hand. "No, please don't say it any louder. Netherlands, you got yourself into this, I suggest you get yourself out. Maybe Austria can help?"
"I doubt it," Austria sniffed, peering down into the box of cream cakes he had brought with him. "This appears to be some trouble amongst EEC member states. I really don't know why you called me, Germany." He chose the most extravagant of the cakes and ate it slowly and carefully, not so much as a crumb falling from his elegant fingers.
Sealand grinned at the expression on Germany's face. He'd never met Austria before, but he liked the way the slightest sceptical twitch of his eyebrow made Germany look like he wanted to explode.
"I believed that someone outside this ridiculous affair might be a good choice as a negotiator," Germany said, sounding like he wanted to shout a lot.
"It's nice you wanted to visit, but I've already decided what to do," Sealand said. "I'm going to let him go -" He pointed to the Netherlands, who perked up at once. "Because the war is over and I'm nice."
"There was no war!" Germany yelled.
"I didn't go to war," the Netherlands said. "Austria? Can you give me a lift home?"
"And I'm keeping him," Sealand continued, "because he's my citizen and I'm going to put him in prison. For treason."
"I'm not sure if a nation can be a citizen of - whatever it is you are," Austria said, patting at his lips with a snow-white handkerchief.
"An irrelevant footnote to history," England muttered.
"England, please," Austria said. "Young man, what if Germany apologises?"
"I'm not -" Germany started.
Sealand blinked as Austria snapped a stream of fast, furious-sounding German, and Germany slowly went redder and redder. Austria closed his eyes and rested the fingers of one hand on his forehead.
"As I was saying," he said in mild, calm English, "what if Germany apologises?"
"I want to be known as a civilized, humanitarian nation," Sealand said. "So I'll hear his apology."
"He's very sorry," Austria said, and looked meaningfully at Germany. After a moment he said something sharply in German.
"I'm very sorry," Germany said in obvious reluctance, looking at the wall.
"He didn't mean to inconvenience you."
"I didn't mean to inconvenience . . . anyone," Germany said.
"And he will not do it again."
"I won't do it again," Germany sighed.
England made a strange noise and stood up quickly, practically running for the door as Austria looked down his nose in a way that made Sealand wonder if he practised the pose in front of the mirror. From outside there was the sound of laughter.
"Dear me," Austria said. "Is that really necessary?"
"He's a jerk," Sealand said, shrugging. "Will you recognise my statehood?"
"As I said, I believe this is an EEC matter, and I - thankfully - am not a member," Austria said. "I'll take my cousin home now, if I may?"
"I'm coming too!" the Netherlands said, jumping up as Austria and Germany headed for the door.
Sealand skipped along beside them and waved as the helicopter left. He grinned at Engand cheerfully. "You recognised my independence again."
"I just don't want you," England said.
"And Germany brought in another nation to open diplomatic channels! People are recognising me!"
England gave him an odd look, and shrugged. "Not me - but this was an amusing afternoon. You can come to tea if you want."
"Every weekend?" Sealand said.
"No."
"Today?"
England nodded. "Bring the rest of the cakes Austria had with him. I'll make scones."
"Great!" Sealand said. "I like scones."
England gave him the odd look again, then laughed. "You can come next weekend too. Come on, let's go and bake some scones."
Sealand ran to get the box of Austrian cakes, then ran back and jumped into the boat where he waited impatiently for England to climb in so that they could be winched down to the sea below. It would be very relaxing to sit in England's parlour and eat scones, he thought, and a real nation could afford to take time off and relax.
* * * * * * * * * *
Endnotes:
In August 1978, Dutch mercenaries in the employ of a German businessman invaded Sealand while its ruler was away, taking his son hostage. Once a successful campaign had been fought to retake the platform, it was discovered the German man had a Sealand passport. He was held longer than the Dutch prisoners, on charges of treason and was freed only once both Germany and Austria had negotiated on his behalf. Sealand holds that this diplomatic action was de facto recognition of the Principality's statehood. Since 1978, the invaders have claimed to be the Sealand government in exile.
Time Setting: 1978
Warnings: none
Summary: Sealand must repel an invasion of his territory.
Notes: Thank you to puddingcat for beta reading!
The Invasion of Sealand
August, 1978
England said that real nations never had time to sit down and look at nothing, that real nations were always busy and had real populations. What did he know? He's just a jerk, Sealand thought, sitting on the edge of the platform and swinging his legs back and forth. He looked up at the fluffy clouds overhead and smiled. Real nations could take a break and relax, he thought. He couldn't feel any leaks anywhere and he had finished his diplomatic work for the day, even if that jerk England said that postcards written in pencil to everyone in the EEC weren't real diplomacy. Best of all, he thought a little guiltily, his boss had gone off to England's house to do some shopping, and the entire population remaining was watching TV, so Sealand's time was briefly his own. Maybe I'll do some fishing, he thought, looking down from the clouds into the sea. I might catch a whale!
He was still giggling at the thought when a flash of movement caught his eye. A boat, he thought, Is the prince back already? Then, Why would he have more than one boat? He looked up at the sound of a helicopter and watched it land, another helicopter coming in fast behind it. As the blades stilled, men jumped out and ran for the control room. Men with guns. Sealand leapt to his feet, eyes wide. Thirty-five years after construction, the terrible moment had come at last.
He was being invaded.
* * *
OK, Sealand thought, peeping out from behind a filing cabinet. I can deal with this. I'll just throw everyone off the platform, and it'll all be fixed before Prince Roy and Princess Joan finish their shopping. He crouched lower so he could wipe his eyes and tell himself he wasn't crying. The invaders had tied up his crown prince and his entire army, and it wasn't fair. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Principalities don't cry, he thought. On three: one - two -
He froze at the sound of familiar voices, and peeped cautiously out again. Coming through the door, two tall, fair-haired men were talking in low, urgent tones, ignoring the other invaders in the room. Sealand squeaked in outrage and jumped out of hiding.
"Get out of my house!" he yelled.
"There he is, finally," the Netherlands said. "Get him!"
"Where'd you come from?" one of the invaders asked, and grabbed Sealand, who put all his weight into stamping down on the man's foot. "Ow! What's this kid made of? Lead?"
"Iron and concrete," Sealand snapped, and marched up to the Netherlands and Germany. "Go away!" He tried to kick the Netherlands in the shin and flailed fruitlessly as he was held at bay with one long arm.
"Outside," the Netherlands said, grabbing his upper arm and hauling him back out into the ever-present wind. "OK," he said to Germany. "Give him the talk."
"Um," Germany said. "Er." He drew himself up and looked sternly down at Sealand, putting his hands behind his back. "This is now my territory," he said. "I will administer everything to do with it. You will live in my house - I will find something useful for you to do."
Sealand gaped at him, then shook off the Netherlands' hand and glared up, hands on hips. "I know I'm just a kid," he said, "and no one ever visits, but I've got radios, Germany. Even I know the war is over. Hey, stop!" he said as the Netherlands grabbed him again and shook him irritably. "How come you're helping him?" Sealand yelled, feeling dizzy. Germany looked a bit embarrassed, he thought, but now the Netherlands looked really angry.
"This is not an invasion," Germany said, sounding huffy as if he were the one being insulted. "This territory is outside any nation's jurisdiction. It is merely terra nullius and can be claimed by anyone. "
"I'm not terra nullius, I'm a sovereign nation!" Sealand yelled.
"No, you're not," the Netherlands said. "If you were, I wouldn't be able to do this -"
Sealand yelped as he was swung round and flung full force away from the Netherlands and Germany, over the edge of the platform, off his own territory and into the air. He was too surprised even to take a deep a breath as he plummeted sixty foot down and into the North Sea. He sank quickly, the great barnacle-encrusted pillars of the platform filling his vision as he finally landed on the sandbank beneath, sending up flurries of sand. I wish I were made out of something that was better at floating, he thought vaguely, then, in sharp despair, I'm drowning. He closed his eyes and lay there, not feeling so cold any more. After another few minutes he opened his eyes again. I can't drown, he thought. Not unless they throw all my population into the sea too. He sat up quickly, alarming a plaice that had hidden itself in the sand near him. And they didn't throw me off my territory - He patted the sandbank fondly, and looked up at the pillars and the barely-visible surface of the sea above.
He mightn't be built for swimming, he thought, but he could climb.
* * *
Shivering on a perch under the lower platform, Sealand planned his campaign as the sea became more foreboding in the dimming evening light. England said it was impossible for him to remember anything from the time of his construction, but if Sealand thought really hard he could remember all sorts of things, codes and plans and lots of rude jokes about Germany.
"I chased that jerk England's navy away," he muttered. "I can deal with these guys too." He grinned at the memory as he wrung the seawater out of his sleeve. It had been a lot of fun, shooting at England's ships, and even more fun when England realised that mean-spirited nations who never invited their neighbours to tea on the silly basis that their neighbours didn't exist couldn't then turn round and claim those neighbours were making too much noise. He cautiously climbed higher and scrambled up onto the surface of the platform. No one was in sight. What if they were torturing his crown prince? he thought anxiously. What if they'd sent someone to assassinate his boss while he was getting the groceries? He pressed a hand over his heart, but his heartbeat was still sure and steady. First things first, he told himself. Secure the fort, then worry about other things. He crept along the edge of the platform, ducking behind empty oil barrels as he heard laughter. Two of the invaders were chatting and smoking. Sealand surreptitiously picked up a length of metal piping, ready to fight. He breathed a sigh of relief as they finally shivered and headed for the control room again. He didn't really want to have to hit anyone. He sprinted for the ladder to the top platform and was up it faster than he had ever climbed before. Hurray! It was empty of invaders, the idiots hadn't left any sentries to guard their helicopters. Sealand took a look round, just in case any jerks of invading nations happened to be waiting for him, and ran for the first one.
He had no idea how helicopters worked, but that didn't matter. He swung the pipe round and brought it down again and again on the controls until they were cracked and broken, then ran for the edge and jumped down to the lower platform again. He sneaked round until he got to the winch, climbed into the boat that had been brought up and lowered himself back down to the mooring point for the others. Idiots! he thought in triumph, finding no sentries there either. They thought they'd won, he thought, watching the speedboats he'd untied begin to float away towards open sea. They were wrong - they might not know it yet, but they had become his prisoners. He secured the winch cable, hoping they couldn't pull it back up, in case he could use it later.
The next thing, he thought, was to get inside. Someone might have heard the winch, so he had to be quick. He looked ruefully at the water, then clambered out onto one of the pillars, sliding down beneath the waves. Right at the edges of his memory he could feel bulwarks opening, cold water rushing in. It wasn't just the weight of the platforms that kept his territory in place, but the sea itself, inside the hollow pillars. The opening was dark and horrible, but he pushed himself through anyway, climbing up through icy black water on piles of rubble and scrap until his hand closed round the last, rusted rung of a ladder bolted to the wall. He pulled himself up rung by rung until his head broke the surface and he could draw breath once more. The first rung he put his full weight on crumbled beneath him and he dangled for what seemed like an hour until he could shift his grip and pull himself up again. His right palm was warm, which surprised him until he realised he'd cut his hand on the corroded metal. By the time he'd climbed far enough up to find the ledge and door he knew were there his hand was throbbing and sore. Sealand curled up on the ledge, sucking the cut and trying not to cry. He didn't feel like a brave, proud nation. He felt like the little boy he looked, and going to live in Germany's house, where it would be warm and dry and he could get a bandage, for a moment seemed more attractive than sitting all alone in the dark, hurt and scared.
"You don't even speak German," he mumbled. "Get up. Get up, you jerk. Don't be such a baby."
He took his neckerchief off and tied it awkwardly round his hand, then put his hands against the door. Any of his people would have found it difficult to open, but it wasn't just his door, it was part of him and it swung open easily. Sealand stepped out into the lowest deck of his territory and felt some of his optimism return at being back in the light. He slipped up one deck and was almost caught immediately. A door opened in his face and one of the invaders came out, wandering down the corridor as Sealand flattened himself against the wall, giving thanks that the man was an idiot who didn't close doors and find the people hiding behind them. He hurried along and opened the door to the Crown Prince's room, finding him sitting on his bunk, one hand handcuffed to a pipe on the wall, with half the army sitting at the little table, one hand handcuffed to the table leg.
"Hello," Sealand said politely as their eyes widened to see him. "I'm liberating the principality - do you have the phone number of Prince Roy's hotel?"
* * *
Sealand sat up, trying to stretch his arms. He was sure he'd heard - he whooped in pleasure as the sounds resolved themselves into helicopter blades and then gunfire. The liberating army had arrived! It made having his ears boxed by Germany and then being spanked by the Netherlands worthwhile. Once the yelling had died down he got worried, thinking he had been forgotten, but the door opened at last and his prince was there.
"I knew you'd come!" Sealand cried.
"Of course. And I knew you wouldn't give in to the enemy," the prince said, unlocking the handcuffs.
"Course not! From the sea, freedom!" Sealand said, and clenched his injured hand tight so he wouldn't cry like a baby from relief. He had to be dignified and magnanimous in victory, he thought as he was led back up to the main deck. His resolution died the moment he saw Germany and the Netherlands.
"Hah! You jerks are going to be so sorry!" he crowed. "I'm going to make you scrub all the barnacles off my pillars! With toothbrushes!" They didn't say anything, which made him laugh louder. He rummaged through the belongings confiscated from them, and paused, staring at one document. "You have one of my passports!" he said in astonishment, brandishing it in Germany's face. "You have one of my passports? This counts as recognition of my status! And I'm trying you for treason!"
"You moron," the Netherlands muttered at Germany.
"Italy thought it would be an amusing present," Germany said stiffly. "Perhaps we should appeal to the nearest sovereign nation for repatriation?"
"I'm right here! And I'm still trying you for treason."
The Netherlands looked at him in resignation. "May we make a phonecall?"
Sealand thought about it. He wasn't sure if his laws allowed prisoners to make calls, but he could afford to be generous. "One call each," he said. "Then I issue you with the toothbrushes."
They looked at each other and back to him.
"May I have the phone first?" the Netherlands asked politely.
* * *
It was very interesting to conduct an international court case, even if no one else present wanted to admit that was what was happening. England just wandered round the room pretending he couldn't see anyone, and Austria had a look on his face like he could smell something unpleasant.
"I call this court to order!" Sealand said.
"I don't recognise the authority of this court," the Netherlands said quickly.
"Neither do I," Germany said.
"I am merely an impartial observer," Austria said.
"I can't see or hear any of you," England said, pouring himself another cup of tea from his thermos.
"England, why not let us go home?" the Netherlands said, putting a hand on England's arm.
"This is nothing to do with me," England said, as if speaking to no one in particular. "This is not my territory and those poor fools who live here are not subject to my people's laws."
"Because I'm independent!" Sealand said. "And sovereign!"
"I didn't hear that," England said, and held up a hand. "No, please don't say it any louder. Netherlands, you got yourself into this, I suggest you get yourself out. Maybe Austria can help?"
"I doubt it," Austria sniffed, peering down into the box of cream cakes he had brought with him. "This appears to be some trouble amongst EEC member states. I really don't know why you called me, Germany." He chose the most extravagant of the cakes and ate it slowly and carefully, not so much as a crumb falling from his elegant fingers.
Sealand grinned at the expression on Germany's face. He'd never met Austria before, but he liked the way the slightest sceptical twitch of his eyebrow made Germany look like he wanted to explode.
"I believed that someone outside this ridiculous affair might be a good choice as a negotiator," Germany said, sounding like he wanted to shout a lot.
"It's nice you wanted to visit, but I've already decided what to do," Sealand said. "I'm going to let him go -" He pointed to the Netherlands, who perked up at once. "Because the war is over and I'm nice."
"There was no war!" Germany yelled.
"I didn't go to war," the Netherlands said. "Austria? Can you give me a lift home?"
"And I'm keeping him," Sealand continued, "because he's my citizen and I'm going to put him in prison. For treason."
"I'm not sure if a nation can be a citizen of - whatever it is you are," Austria said, patting at his lips with a snow-white handkerchief.
"An irrelevant footnote to history," England muttered.
"England, please," Austria said. "Young man, what if Germany apologises?"
"I'm not -" Germany started.
Sealand blinked as Austria snapped a stream of fast, furious-sounding German, and Germany slowly went redder and redder. Austria closed his eyes and rested the fingers of one hand on his forehead.
"As I was saying," he said in mild, calm English, "what if Germany apologises?"
"I want to be known as a civilized, humanitarian nation," Sealand said. "So I'll hear his apology."
"He's very sorry," Austria said, and looked meaningfully at Germany. After a moment he said something sharply in German.
"I'm very sorry," Germany said in obvious reluctance, looking at the wall.
"He didn't mean to inconvenience you."
"I didn't mean to inconvenience . . . anyone," Germany said.
"And he will not do it again."
"I won't do it again," Germany sighed.
England made a strange noise and stood up quickly, practically running for the door as Austria looked down his nose in a way that made Sealand wonder if he practised the pose in front of the mirror. From outside there was the sound of laughter.
"Dear me," Austria said. "Is that really necessary?"
"He's a jerk," Sealand said, shrugging. "Will you recognise my statehood?"
"As I said, I believe this is an EEC matter, and I - thankfully - am not a member," Austria said. "I'll take my cousin home now, if I may?"
"I'm coming too!" the Netherlands said, jumping up as Austria and Germany headed for the door.
Sealand skipped along beside them and waved as the helicopter left. He grinned at Engand cheerfully. "You recognised my independence again."
"I just don't want you," England said.
"And Germany brought in another nation to open diplomatic channels! People are recognising me!"
England gave him an odd look, and shrugged. "Not me - but this was an amusing afternoon. You can come to tea if you want."
"Every weekend?" Sealand said.
"No."
"Today?"
England nodded. "Bring the rest of the cakes Austria had with him. I'll make scones."
"Great!" Sealand said. "I like scones."
England gave him the odd look again, then laughed. "You can come next weekend too. Come on, let's go and bake some scones."
Sealand ran to get the box of Austrian cakes, then ran back and jumped into the boat where he waited impatiently for England to climb in so that they could be winched down to the sea below. It would be very relaxing to sit in England's parlour and eat scones, he thought, and a real nation could afford to take time off and relax.
* * * * * * * * * *
Endnotes:
In August 1978, Dutch mercenaries in the employ of a German businessman invaded Sealand while its ruler was away, taking his son hostage. Once a successful campaign had been fought to retake the platform, it was discovered the German man had a Sealand passport. He was held longer than the Dutch prisoners, on charges of treason and was freed only once both Germany and Austria had negotiated on his behalf. Sealand holds that this diplomatic action was de facto recognition of the Principality's statehood. Since 1978, the invaders have claimed to be the Sealand government in exile.