[Name=Male Name, kay? And make up a Country name too, please?]
'When he took us in, he got that coat specially made. A light blue was the main color (much like France's clothes), although the cuffs were a bright red with silver buttons as was the collar. The inside was as green as the grass. The cape that attached to it was green also, but he didn't wear it often only during important meetings. He said the colors were for each of our eyes. Red for Prussia, blue for France, green for me. He wore it all the time, but not during battle as he didn't want it to get ruined. It reminded him of us, that's why he loved it so much.'
"Papa, look! We're getting better!" A 10 year old-looking France pulled (Country)'s hand, dragging the young man from his desk where now paperwork was abandoned and to the woods behind their house. (Name) grinned at an excuse to stop sitting at the wooden table, his hand dropping the quill when he got outside and petted a curious deer. Animals came out of their hiding at the sight of the (h/c) haired man, people always said he had a gift with them.
"Vatiiiiii, stop petting zhe animals and look!" Prussia tugged on his father's long coat, gesturing towards a once sword-training place filled with straw-tied sticks now just a empty clearing with cut up wood and straw spread across the grass. 2 small swords laid in the midst of it all, the silver blades shined in the midday sun. The man chuckled, his hand brushing some (h/c) locks from his face, "You guys are getting very good at using a sword, which is crucial to be a big, strong country... Wait, where's Antonio?" (Name)'s eyes darted around the trees, looking for his small, tan Spanish country.
Francis tilted his head to side in thought, blond hair slid and hid a blue eye, "I zhink he went to pick some tomatoes-" "Zhen ve should help!" the Prussian nation perked up, red eyes gleaming. (Name) ruffled the 7 year old's silvery-white hair as he passed, heading to the vegetable and fruit garden he started with the little countries. Having one country to take care of was hard enough, but many said that (Country) was foolish and way too young for 3. True, the work was nearly unbearable, but the little kids made it all worthwhile. (Though it was true he was a little young, looking around 23-24 and a few centuries under his belt.)
"Hola, papi! I'm over here!" From behind a large basket of the delicious red fruit, Spain peeked his head out and gave a strained smile, "Ayúdame, por favor." With a slight angered face, (Name) snatched the heavy woven container from the 9 year old's wobbling arms, he held it in one hand as if it were weightless. "You need to be careful, mi nino! You could break an arm or drop it on yourself, I don't want you to get hurt! That goes for you other two as well," He said concerned as he took Antonio's arms with his one hand and examined them to make sure he didn't bruise himself.
Gilbert actually dropped his smirk when he cried, "But Vati, ve vant to be as strong as you and help you!" "Oui, we want to 'elp you in war. We see all zhe pain you show when you zhink we are not looking, but we see it and your wounds too!" The blond boy now looked close to tears as he explained, their father sighed as he realized what they were doing; it wasn't helping that trio were all crying now. He gestured for the boys to follow as he sharply turn and walked back to their large house, mostly to try and blink away the water forming in his (e/c) eyes.
You settled into a chair and the three did the same, sniffling; you ran a hand through your (h/l) hair and rested your chin on your hand. You weren't really good with talking nicely; either you spoke bluntly or you flirted, which was definitely not an option. You pulled your blue sleeve over your hand and gently wiped their tears, smiling warmly. You winced slightly when the coat rubbed against a large cut running from your elbow to your wrist that wasn't healed yet, looking up to see Prussia starting to tear up again.
"Look boys, I'm going to be blunt: I don't want your help. Not because I hate you or don't need you, both very much the opposite. I want to protect you three and will not let you guys get hurt while I'm still living, I will happily wear and receive these scars and wounds if I know you guys are safe. I want you all to grow strong at your own pace, soon you will not need me and be independent, but not yet. So please, take your time and don't strain yourselves...For me?" You told them with a small smile, which faltered slightly at the mention of them being independent. You loved the tiny troublemakers, but you were realistic and had to prepare them for that...No matter how much it cause pain in your heart.
"B-but papa-!" "Non, mon enfant. I will not argue anymore, you all know what I mean." "Papi, will you still give me classes on the ax?" Antonio gained his characteristic smile, he cheered when you nodded, "Gracias, padre!" They each jumped up from their seat, stopping when you called, "Oh and boys? Strength is in numbers, as long as you three stick together and fight together, you'll have a much greater chance of winning and be as great as me!~ That reminds me, Antonio, remember to call Denmark also. I still have to give him lessons too..."
(Country) didn't know why his boss wanted to keep the countries chained to his, maybe the father-like feelings that knew he had to let them prosper on their own... But the personification of a country couldn't do much, they couldn't go against their boss and government unless their people feel so. Sighing, he traced the bright white scar on his forearm before pulling the blue sleeve over it. He never felt so somber going into battle, he actually liked fighting; the rush of adrenalin pumping through his veins as he struck down his enemy, showing his power and dominance! It was all so thrilling! ... But all the thrill and adrenalin was sucked out of his soul when the Spanish, French, and Prussian countries revolted and his boss wouldn't allow it.
Locked in combat, (Name) struck with such viciousness that was almost inhuman, rivers of red was (e/c) eyes saw as each men fell with each precise swung of an ax. Wounds found his body, but he couldn't feel them.
"The great nation of (Country), one zhat no other would dare even zouch. Now, we can see why." (Name) stood up straight, his bloodthirsty grin dropping at the sight of his once little countries. Swinging his large ax over his shoulder, the (h/c) haired man gave a dark glare that would send the most courageous of men to his knees and begging for forgiveness, "So, I'm guessing you three won't give up, will you?" Silence met his words as they stared in utter shock at the man; never have they seen him like this. The look in the older nation's eyes showed ferocity, blood lust, and anger. Though, it was all fake, but (Name) was good at hiding that.
"ANSWER ME!" He shouted clear and strong, ignoring the pain and sorrow that kept stabbing his heart. "Nein, Vater, ve von't give up until ve are independent!" Prussia cried, red eyes alight with determination. Spain nodded firmly, "Padre, we have to do this. For our people, for us! We will be victorious!" "Acciones hablan más que las palabras, hijo mío," was the bland response as (Country) stood alone, ax now menacingly gleaming in hand. Running at him, the three leaped as their swung their weapons.
Mind on haywire, (Country) deflected the trio's attempts to wound him, his special coat flying around as he barely dodged Antonio's ax. Gilbert stabbed his sword forward, aiming for his side before the blade being twisted away and getting hit hard in the chest then back with the hilt, being sent to the ground. "Getting soft, Vater?" he snarled as he felt no slice of the weapon, struggling to get to his feet. "Regrettably, yes." Francis's body and sword gets knocked to the dirt as well with Antonio following, "Get up. I taught you better, I've always told you to work together. Don't disappoint me now, you've each come so far. NOW GET UP!" He kicked their weapons back to them before going back to his battle stance, (Name) knew he couldn't harm them, he would never forgive himself. So instead, he aimed to a point in their back that took the wind right out of them.
"No other country is going to go soft on you and allow you a SECOND on the ground; they will take any chance to ram a sword into your chest. I learnt from experience, I don't want you guys to," he explained as he watched with piercing eyes, leaning on the thin, ebony staff of the ax. "Zhen, vhy are you letting us?! You dumm hypocrite... STRIKE ME, VERDAMMIT!" Prussia roared, and threw himself at their father, punching his chest over and over. (Name) looked down at him, too shocked at his actions to noticed Francis and Antonio lurking behind before he felt two hilts digging into his back and knocking to his knees. Dirt stained the bright blue and green of his coat as he collapsed, wounded physically and emotionally. His faithful ax clattered next to him before getting kicked away.
"You want to know why?" The country asked, flipping slowly onto his back to stare up at them, "I love you guys. Have I not said that enough? Was I not there for you three enough? Was I not loving enough? Caring enough? Gentle enough? WAS I EVEN ENOUGH?" Tears flowed down the corners of his eyes as he closed them, giving a harsh laugh, "I knew this day would come... I wanted to let you guys go, but my government said no. I miss when you would pull me to the forest to practice. Miss my little countries that are no more. Go on, kill me, wound me, whatever. I couldn't bring myself to even give you guys a single cut."
Instead of the pain he expected, the noise of metal hitting the ground caused large (e/c) eyes to snap open. "Papi." "Papa." "Vati." "We can't hurt you either."
".....So that was something I remember from (Name)'s house and the war!" Spain finished his tale to some curious nations. "DID YOU MENTION HOW GREAT I WAS, TONI?" (Name) called, peaking his head into the meeting room, a large hawk perched on his shoulder, (h/c) hair covering a shining eye. He strode in, his coat seeming to float behind his jean-clad legs; smiling brightly at the others.
"(Country)! I asked you already to keep the animals outside. This is the 50th time!," England reprimanded the man, his large eyebrows knitting together. The handsome (h/c) haired nation looked at the animal, surprised before laughing. "Sorry, Iggy! I was too busy flirting with the woman at the desk to notice this little guy followed me. She was very pretty so don't blame me!~" he winked before whispering to the bird, the hawk flew off as the man walked in. "But won't the little dude get lost or something?" America questioned, sky blue eyes looking at (Country) with a lot of respect as England grumbled about to not call him 'Iggy'.
He was about to answer before getting tackled to the ground, "NOPE! He has like some kind of veird psychic connection vith animals, he taught me a bit and zhat's how I befriend Gilbird!" The albino sitting on his back responded instead, the yellow bird in his silver hair chirping in agreement. Laughter rang through the room as everybody packed up, saying their farewells to the well-respected (Name), Spain, and Prussia and leaving.
"Hey, Gil." "Ja, Vati?" "Can you get off of me?" "Nein." "Antonio? Ayúdame, por favor?" "No!~" Instead, the Spanish country sat down beside him and laid his back on top of the poor man. "NO, MY COAT!"
" 'EY, YOU GUYS FORGOT ME!" Francis stomped into the room before plopping down and doing the same as Antonio. "Sometimes, I wonder how you guys are your own countries if you act like you were little kids." (Name) muttered as he rested his cheek against the soft carpet. "I resent zhat! I am very mature, papa, you should know that," The blond whined, puffing out his cheeks indignantly. "Sure, of course you are!~ Now, get off me." "No~" "Nein!" "Non!" "Fuck."