Makeover, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

Makeover

By Laura Schiller

Based on Hetalia: Axis Powers

"What in heaven's name are you wearing?" Germany barked.

Mecklenburg-Vorpommern pouted. She was a short, sturdy young woman usually seen in overalls and rubber boots, with a flowery scarf tied over her blond hair to keep it out of the way. Today, however, the overalls were hidden under a too-large army jacket, and her boots had spikes in them. She wore a red armband on her sleeve – without the swastika, since they were illegal, but the color by itself was enough to give Germany the chills. Even her head was shaved.

"I can wear whatever I damn well want to!" she snapped. "I'm free to express myself, and so are my voters."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look?"

"If you want me to change, then tell Syria to stop sending so many damn refugees. They're draining me dry and scaring the crap out of my people."

"You're sure it's not the other way around?"

Her eyes, normally blue as the Baltic Sea on a sunny day, flashed a disturbing red. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Prussia, her former guardian. Except that she didn't have a fraction of his power.

"Don't be stingy, Marika. Those refugees have nowhere to go, and the troublemakers among them are such a small amount. We're one of the richest places in the world, taking them in is the least we can do."

"Speak for yourself." She took several deep breaths, visibly fighting tears. "My unemployment rate is going through the roof. All the other provinces make fun of me because I'm poor. They call me Fish Head, did you know that? I'm sick of it."

"I know," said Germany, in a quieter voice. "I understand. But do you really think raking up the most shameful part of our history will win you respect? You should remember. You paid the price. We all did."

Marika's face crumpled. The fight drained out of her at once.

He remembered her as a Grand Duchy, quiet and sensible, content to farm and fish and leave the fighting to her more powerful siblings. The World Wars had touched her relatively lightly, since she had few military targets. It was the post-war years that had hurt her most: losing her twin, Pomerania, to Poland; being occupied by a vindictive Russia; putting up with a half-mad, traumatized East's attempts to organize her along Communist guidelines.

Then the Berlin Wall had come down, and she had found herself a poor relation in someone else's wealthy home. Was it any wonder she was unhappy?

"I miss Gilbert," she admitted, in a tiny voice. "I know he could be an asshole, but he took care of me. I was his favorite vacation spot."

"I remember." Ludwig smiled. "I used to visit your beaches, back before the war. Mainly because Saxony wouldn't shut up about them."

"Saxony never shuts up." She giggled. "But he liked my beaches, that's true. He said the sea air was good for his lungs."

They both quieted down a little, thinking of Saxony and his smoker's cough, caused by too much pollution under Gilbert's regime. He was doing better now, but he might never be the same again.

"I was important then," Marika said sadly. "I was beautiful."

"You still are," said Ludwig, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Never doubt that."

"Even though since the borders opened, everyone goes to stupid Majorca instead?" But her sneer was half-hearted this time, and he knew it.

"Majorca's overrated." This coaxed a smile from her.

"I'm grateful to you," he continued, "For producing one of the finest Chancellors we've ever had. Frau Merkel's strength and steadiness are what's holding all of Europe together. Even her refugee policy – it's hard on me too, but we'll thank her one day, I promise. New blood keeps us nations alive."

Ludwig ran a careful hand over the top of Marika's shaved head. He could feel her veins pulsing. She closed her eyes.

When he took his hand away, her scalp was shimmering. In a few moments, her hair grew back, golden as canola fields, as lovely as he remembered. Partly as a joke, he'd given her the distinctive bob Angela Merkel was famous for. She put her own hands up, felt the glossy strands, and scowled.

"Hey!"

"It suits you, little sister."

She punched him on the arm, and he laughed.

Historical Notes:

I've been combing the Hetalia fandom all over for a sign of my birth province, but haven't found one. So I decided I'd better write it myself.

"I'm free to express myself, and so are my voters": In September 2016, a far-right, anti-immigrant party called Alternative fuer Deutschland had the second highest number of votes in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern's provincial election.

"Fish Head": When we call ourselves that, it's funny. When someone else does … not so much.

"organize her along Communist guidelines": In the late 1940's and 50's, the East German government confiscated a lot of private property, often by arresting the owners on trumped-up charges. My great-grandparents had to run from the police, leaving behind the house that had been in their family for generations.

"Saxony never shuts up": It was once a wealthy, powerful country with a fabulous jewelry collection, which you can still see in Dresden. But since Frederick the Great invaded it in the 18th century, it doesn't get along with its northern neighbors. Also, Walter Ulbricht, one of East Germany's leaders, was a Saxon. He was known for long, boring, propaganda-heavy speeches. Since then, many East Germans find the Saxon dialect annoying. The closest comparison I can think of is a New Jersey drawl.

"smoker's cough": Brown coal was the most common type of fuel in the GDR. It was also very toxic. Parents from industrial towns in Saxony and Thuringia used to send their children to state-sponsored summer camps in Mecklenburg to give them a break from the bad air.