I do not own Hetalia. This is based off of a role play between my friend and I.
India: Kiran
England: Arthur
-India's POV-
Kiran breathed in and out deeply. She sat cross legged on a carpet in front of an idol of Shita. Her hands were clapped together and her golden eyes were closed as she let her breaths fill her body. The smell of cinnamon wafted through the marble room from the burning incense. It was very calming.
Kiran's long dark hair was tied into a tight braid that ran down her back like a snake. Her bangs framed her tanned face. Strange designs of henna were painted on her hands and arms. She was dressed in a long red sari that had a gold hemming to it. Her sandals sat outside the room so that she would not mark the floor with the dirt her shoes would have picked up.
This was her favorite time of the day. The sun was at the right point that it reflected off the beautiful buildings of her city and it shown like polished silver. The waters were also a shimmering wonder that lay undisturbed. Everything just felt so peaceful.
Kiran was utterly in love with the land that she was gifted with. She could not have asked for anything better. Her people weren't ever without food, there were plenty of resources and everyone lived how they wished to. Their land was at peace thanks to the many philosophies that they followed. They were thankful for what the Gods and Goddesses had given them and would present many offerings to them. Kiran guessed that they were happy with them since nothing bad had ever happened. She was very glad to not be at war with her many older brothers.
-England's POV-
A beautiful ship cut through the shining sapphire waves of the ocean. White sails caught the wind, gleaming wood majestically sweeping through the sea, an ivory figurehead of a woman keeping watch at the front. On board the ship, men ran to and fro, climbing up and down the mast, tying and untying various ropes. The men had a variety of hair colors, and tanned skin that had all once been pale. Most were barefoot, for the sake of better traction on the wet deck.
Suddenly, a cry came from the crow's nest that froze all movement below. "Land ho!" a sailor shouted, "Land ho!" A cheer rang up, as, for a moment, everyone strained their eyes in the direction the man pointed. One crew member, the first to regain his thoughts, shouted at one younger than the rest (the cabin boy, who had been getting some fresh air) to tell the captain, and the rest sprang into action once more as the lad ran off.
Soon, the door to the below decks opened once more, and out stepped an imposing man, who was presumably the captain. Green eyes sparkled beneath alarmingly bushy blond eyebrows, and messy hair of the same color was kept out of the way by a bandana. The main difference in the man, aside from the obvious importance in the man's stature and behavior, was the quality of his clothes, which were finer than what the others wore, though was of a similar style. Behind this man stood another, with red hair, and the cabin boy.
The captain looked about at the crew for a moment, smiling in satisfaction, before looking up at the man above. "Where?" He called up. Seeing the man point, he turned that way, pulling out his own spyglass, and looking into it. A roguish grin crept up on his face as he looked. 'At last.'
"Well, Cap'n?" his lieutenant asked.
The captain spun to face him, passing the spyglass over, predatory gleam in his eye. "We're 'ere, lads!" he called, projecting his voice loud enough that all could hear. "We've found the land o' gold n' spices, the land o' promise! India!" He savored the name as the men cheered again, tasting it. India...the name itself seemed to be filled with mystery, promise, and riches. To his crew, once they'd settled, he continued, "Come, lessee what this treasure trove looks like, eh?" He gave orders, before returning to his quarters to prepare.
India...he wondered what this country would be like. Would it be male, or female? A child, or older? To some, these may have seemed like odd questions: how can a country have a gender, or be a child? What few knew, however, was that Captain Arthur Kirkland was not, in fact, an ordinary mortal. He was really the personification of England, as strange as it seemed. He intended to take this newly discovered country, this India...and he was going to let nothing get in his way.
Arthur emerged on deck once more as they neared the harbor. He was now dressed much more impressively. A long red and gold coat covered a white ruffled shirt and clean brown trousers, high boots protected his feet. His hands were gloved, and a large tri-cornered hat with a feather rested on his blond head. His right eye was hidden by an eye patch, in a move calculated for intimidation, as were the various weapons he carried. He called together the crew, and gravely told them, "We 'ave some rules for this expedition, lads. No lootin' or killin'-though, I agree, it's much more fun," a wicked smile briefly lit up his face, before returning to seriousness. "An' please, do your best to be gentle-like, mannerly. We may be the first Englishmen they've seen, let's bring honor to our Queen an' our country!" Another cheer rose up, and Arthur smiled proudly. His men were the finest on the sea, and he was honored to lead them.
"Now, let's prepare to dock!"