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Spain
Clash! The two swords met in a volley of jabs, thrusts and swings as the two fighters circled each other. Neither was willing to lose. Around them the noise of canons and screaming men filled the air. Green eyes met green as the two nations fought in the middle of the ocean. One of them was a conquistador whose country was one of the greatest powers in Europe, his power over the new land to the west was growing and each day his ships returned with plundered gold from savages strongholds. He was Spain. He had travelled on this ship to see if he could finally catch her. The one nation who dared try to steal from him. Whose ships attacked his treasure ships and disappeared onto the sea. A no-good pirate. Inglaterra. He'd found her on this raid. He was fighting her now.
England smirked at him from across the clashing blades. She loved this. Her blood sang with each strike and she could tell from the grin on his face that he felt the same way. How could she resist this challenge. Spain had practically dared her to do this sailing those unguarded boats brimming with gold in the ocean. It was all his fault really. Her boss had tried to keep her on land, had said that it was too dangerous for her if she got captured but to England that just made it all the more exciting. A sword nearly took off her head but she dodged just in time. OK so maybe her boss did have a point. She fought back with a sweeping strike and this time it was Spain who jumped back.
Even in the midst of battle she would admit that the Spaniard was hot. Messy brown hair with flashing green eyes and a smirk that could be deadly against the opposite sex, Antonio was one of the more handsome nations (though she'd rather cut off her hand than admit it) and the outfit he was wearing just enhanced it. She thrust forward and cursed as his blade slipped past and cut her cheek but her sword scratched just above his eye. They sprung back again; both panting and enjoying their fight. It was time to end it. With a yell she sprang forward as he did and the two countries met in a clang of...
Amelia sat upright in bed. Sweat dripping off her face and her breaths came out in short gasps. The alarm clock at her side beeped and flashed the time in big red numbers. 07:00. She groaned and shut the damn thing off with a smack. It had been getting to the good bit to. Despite knowing that it was a dream her blood still thrummed with anticipation. A rueful smirk crossed her face. Apparently the wine bastard had been right; beneath her "civilised" and "proper" appearance lurked the heart of a delinquent. A pirate. Those had been good times. When she and Antonio had fought for control over the sea, when her country had overflowed with wealth and when politics had been a good deal simpler.
Well there was no point living in the past. The bloody git (AKA America) had called another World meeting and she had to get ready. It would probably devolve into the usual screaming match, she could already feel the migraine. With any luck Germany would get fed up quickly and sort everyone out. Then she cursed as she realised that Germany was ill this week so he would probably send his brother in his stead. So Prussia would be there. Bloody brilliant. Maybe she should bring some earplugs just in case.
World Meeting
She stepped into the hall and let out a breath of a relief when she saw that the meeting hadn't started yet, as such there were only a few nations around, and America wasn't one of them. She was surprised to see the very man whom she had been dreaming about there as Spain was usually one of the last ones to turn up. Sure he was asleep but he was quite early. Without realising what she was doing she strode over to him and sat down next to him. The movement jolted the other nation and he woke up, his eyes still foggy from sleep. It was unexpectedly cute, especially when compared with the conquistador she had fought in her past. He turned towards her and his eyes cleared slightly; the drowsy look replaced by the complacent happy look that he was known for.
Amelia wasn't fooled for a moment. She'd seen those same eyes filled with joy as their swords met in a deadly dance and that carefree manner replaced by the dark dominating conqueror she'd known and made battle with. It went both ways of course. He knew that underneath she was just as wild and adventurous as he was; a side which they kept hidden in this modern world, and it was driving her insane.
"Hola mi amiga." She smiled back and made herself comfortable.
"Hello Spain. I'm surprised to see you here this early." There was an underlying question which he picked up on immediately.
"Si, I was woken early this morning by some noises coming from the room next to mine." She frowned.
"Noises?" He nodded and leaned back on his chair.
"Si, they sounded like moans and groans though I couldn't be sure. I'll have to ask my neighbours to keep it down eh." Amelia felt her cheeks turn red as she understood exactly what had woken him up. He of course looked unaffected, but surely even he couldn't be that oblivious? She shook her head and returned to the conversation.
"Well, my alarm clock went off a little early. I was having a nice dream as well." Her voice was a tad wistful. The dream hadn't been nice more exciting then pleasant.
"Really what was it about?" Her cheeks flushed for a second before she remembered who she was talking to. If anyone could understand it would be Spain.
"You and I were fighting in the middle of the Atlantic ocean on our ships. You were on a treasure ship bound for your land and my men were well-"
"Trying to steal it." He finished off for her. His eyes suddenly looked sharper and he sat up a little straighter. She gave him a smug grin.
"Not trying my friend, succeeding." His eyes flashed again and, for the first time in a while, she felt the old battle lust stirring.
"You only succeeded because you were lucky." His voice had gone hard and she answered with a shrug.
"Luck, skill, call it what you want but in the end, I won." His hand clenched and the complacent aura around him was gone. Maybe the conquistador wasn't as well hidden as she'd thought. His shoulders suddenly dropped.
"In your dream. Who won?" She blinked at the question.
"I woke up before I could see."
"Yo tengo dos espadas en mi dormitorio." Her eyebrows rose. How had he managed to sneak two swords past security? Putting that thought aside for now she focused on the matter at hand. Amelia knew what he was suggesting; that they finish the fight from her dream. The rational civil part of her said no, she had a meeting to go to and a fight would ruin her clothes. However, the part of her that had been awoken by the dream was pleading with her to say yes. To draw her sword one more time. Besides, it wouldn't be a long fight. She grinned and pushed herself up on her feet.
"Shall we go then." He gave her a roguish smirk and she pushed down the flutter of butterfly wings in her stomach. He took her hand in his and together they walked towards the exit.
Clash! In the confines of his room the two old rivals crossed swords again. The blood and adrenaline pumped round her body and she met each strike and jab with one of her own. She briefly took her eyes off the weapons to examine her opponent. The carefree Spaniard was gone and the burning eyes of a warrior stared back at her. He slashed at her arm and she barely dodged it, but the blade cut through her sleeve. They jumped into action and there was a flurry of swords and movement.
"Is this the same as your dream?" He murmured. She twisted her blade out of his hold.
"No." She replied. "This is much better." Another jab and slash. The knock on the door caused them both to freeze.
"Espagne? Are you there mon ami?" They both recognised the voice. France. Shit. She looked down at her clothes they were torn , cut and messed up, her hair was in disarray and she was panting from exhaustion...he looked the same. Knowing France's perverted mind he would assume that. She looked at Spain with fearful eyes. He cursed and dropped his sword before roughly shoving her into the closet. She opened her mouth in protest put he clambered inside with her and covered her mouth with his hand. The door opened and they heard someone step inside.
"I was sure that I heard someone in here."
"Hey France you found Toni yet." She closed her eyes. Prussia. Great.
"No he's not here."
"What? But the awesome me saw him come in here with someone. Wait are they swords on the floor?" She heard someone moving and the shing of metal.
"These look like those swords he used back in the days when he ruled the sea." She scowled at that. She had ruled the sea not the infuriating man behind her who was just oozing smugness.
"Wait, I thought England was the one who ruled the seas." Thank you Prussia. Now who was the smug one?
"It was always a close contest between those two. He used to get so upset with her whenever she stole some of his gold. Then there was that whole armada problem." The smile on her face got bigger. The Spanish Armada was one of her favourite naval battles just as it was one of Antonio's most hated.
"Didn't he have a crush on her though?" She felt Antonio freeze behind her and she pressed her ear against the door, her mind reeling. The hands holding her waist tightened.
"Oui, for many years but their conflict prevented him from acting on it. Angleterre, how can I put this, entranced him. She was his equal, and a woman who would not submit to him, he admired her deeply." Was this still a dream? Because there was no way she'd heard France say that.
"Plus she was fucking hot in that awesome pirate getup." She bit back a growl and made a note to hit the albino later.
"Oui, she was." And the frog. "Well he must have gone back to the hall. Come mon ami, let us return." There was a mumbled reply and the creak of the door as the two left. The hands holding her up went slack and she tumbled out of the closet, but not before grabbing his shirt and pulling him out as well. They landed on the floor in a heap. He was pressed out on top of her and there legs were intertwined. Her breathing was coming out more even now but she couldn't deny the way her heartbeat sped up. Slowly, she met his gaze. They were bright with something that resembled battle lust and the thrill of a challenge except it was much softer.
She was suddenly hyper aware of the places where their skin touched and she could feel the muscles of his chest pressed against her stomach. She gulped and his eyes watched her throat with an almost predatory expression.
"Antonio, was France...was he telling the truth?" She didn't want him to say yes because then she wouldn't know what would happen.
"No." The relief was marred by ...disappointment? She nodded and waited for him to get off of her. He didn't. "You didn't entrance me in that period, you entrance me still." Her eyes widened and she tried to squirm out from under him. He didn't let her.
"Let me go Spain!" Her temper flared and she momentarily forgot her fear. He grinned down at her.
"No Amelia, soy muy felix aqui. " His eyes sharpened. "Your a pirate Amelia, you take what you want and then disappear afterwards. You wanted a fight and now you want to leave." He lowered his mouth to her ear and she couldn't suppress a shudder. "I'm a conqueror, I fight to keep what I want. I try and keep hold of it for years and years."
She bit her lip and his eyes only brightened. Could she do this? Her mouth opened to respond but he shamelessly took advantage of it. His mouth captured hers in a searing kiss and everything female in her responded. Her back arched slightly as fire seemed to shoot down her veins. Her mouth opened to let him in and he moaned at the taste of her. She still didn't give in. Her hands clenched into his back and she smirked as she realised just how much he was enjoying it, if a certain part of his anatomy was anything to go by. The clock on his bedside table beeped and her eyes widened at the time.
"Shit. Sp-Antonio we have to get back." He didn't seem to hear her and continued to kiss her neck. "I don't want to be late." She could feel her will beginning to crumble due to the feel of his mouth on her skin.
"If I let you go you won't come back. Pirates don't come back." She smirked and pressed her lips to his neck.
"They do if they haven't got all the treasure yet." He pushed himself up on his elbows and analysed her, weighing the truth of her words. Evidently satisfied he pushed himself off of her.
Later
"So that is my plan to end world hunger, any questions?"
"That was absolutely ridiculous!" England nodded her agreement with Switzerland and resisted the urge to pull at her collar, it was the only thing keeping the rather large hickey on her neck from being seen. She narrowed her eyes at the smiling man sat across from her. He looked very pleased with himself and she was pissed. A smirk tugged at her own lips, she knew how to play as well. The battle had just begun.
AN: Hello! So this is my first fanfic. I don't have a problem with yaoi or yuri I just prefer het, which can be hard to find in Hetalia fanfiction. England is one of my fav characters and I thought he/she needed some more love. If you have a particular country that you want Amelia to be with please tell me. My world history isn't great so if you can write about an even that you want mentioned or something that connects the two that would be helpful, though I may use something else, also tell me if you want it in an AU, where they're just normal people, or not. The rating may go up but I'm not sure yet and they'll probably vary in length. So please review and request. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you.
