Disclaimer : I do not own Hetalia. All copyright go to their respective owners.
Author's notes : The first english translated chapter of the fiction "Ceux épris de Liberté" ! English is not my mother tongue, I swear I did my best with the translation ! Please don't hit me if it's bad x_x
Anyway enjoy your reading ! See you at the bottom of the page for some side notes ! ~

Louise's POV

My name is Louise Verheyen. You may have never heard my name or noticed me before. I'm not the kind of girl who has a striking appearance ; blond and smooth hair sometimes tied with a ribbon, emerald green eyes, a small height, in a word, I'm extremely ordinary.
I'm a moody and capricious child, a pest who uses thousands of tricks and it has been a long time since the pastries have no more secrets for me.

We are five in my family ; my brothers, my parents and me. At least, we were would be more accurate.
We lived an easygoing life away from the wars, comfortably accommodated in our cloistered countryside. We based most of our needs on the agriculture of our products and our financial incomes on the trades we made with foreign countries. We rose and went to sleep with the chickens, our days were spent inside the farm or harvesting, and sometimes, my big brother and I discreetly avoided our chores to play in the hay.
It was a sweet existence deluded with clearness and carefree attitude. Of course, there were sometimes shadow zones due to either a drop of our harvests or the local bad weather, but most of the time it was my quarrels with Anthonij that made the farm to shake from all over its walls ;

-Mummy ! Netherlands stole my ribbon again ! I whined.
-Didn't ! Ya are the one who lost it in the hay ! he retorted.
-How can you be so sure ? I said.
-'Cause ya are Belgium, and ya aren't smarter than a broomstick, natuurlijk ! he said, proudly folding his arms on his stick out chest, insisting on that last word as to make obvious the fact I was being silly. But I knew for sure he was the thief.
-Mummy ! I cried out, feeling defenseless. The weary voice of my mother coming from the kitchen sang a "be nice to each other" as a response and soon, Netherlands showed me his tongue, waving my ribbon in his hands.
In the end, the quarrel was always sorted out the same way ; when Anthonij couldn't bear my little sister's tears anymore, he gave me what was mine back and kissed me on the cheek in gage of apology before leaving to take care of our little brother, Luxembourg.

We never missed anything. My childhood had been so ideal that she was nearly utopian. But in every world, there must be a balance. Bring a certain amount of happiness and you can be sure you'll get the same quantity of sorrow – whether you want it, or not -. This moment, this fall, this twist at the corner of my life, I review it every two nights. I then emerge from a nightmare which last sensations still make me shivering and trembling from the fever, and with my dreadful scream, I pierce the night.

Anthonij's POV

I woke up with a start at my sister's scream. My eyes got slowly used to the surrounding darkness of the room before I finally distinguished her clearly. Her face was viewed from the side, her mouth, half-opened from which a panting breath escaped and many of her hair were stuck to the skin of her neck, soaked with sweat ; it didn't take me a long time to come up with the conclusion she had dreamt of our childhood. I sighed and proceeded as usual when she had her every two-nights-nightmares since she had turned nine.

-Nog ?
-Yes, she replied.

A silence fell. But I had predicted it ; she's always needed a certain number of minutes to pass to speak again. I sighed while standing beside her in the bed.

-Louise. Get back to sleep.

She looked at me, her green eyes shining with the ray of dawn that was rising through the only curtain-less window. It would be a beautiful day today.
Soon, she'll ask me her question.

-Anthonij, I don't understand. How come you remain so calm ? How come that night doesn't haunt you ?

Her eyes were lost in her incomprehension. And I knew only one way to make her find an escape to it.

-I think about it every night, I lied, I have nightmares every hour. I miss Vader en Moeder a lot, en Luxemburg ook, but…

I made a pause. I had to.

-Mais ? she said when the silence has been long enough.
-It was ten years ago. It's more than time to get on with life, I said firmly, lots of things have changed since then.

And I forced her to go back to sleep by grabbing and pushing down one of her shoulders. She won't protest. Then she'll fall asleep again, rest easy, and when she'll wake up at Antonio's call, she will have forgotten all about our conversation, and the same story will repeat itself in two nights. I had connected this behavior to the trauma the deaths of both our parents and little brother had surely caused her. She was only nine, and I had just turned twelve. I don't remember the exact age of Luxemburg , but he was just a toddler.
I lied down again and closed my eyes. Ten years had passed since then and I still couldn't forget that night. I didn't review it as intensively as my sister did, but I hadn't forgotten. I'll probably never will.

It was a particularly cold month of December and the snow was covering every piece of earth visible. It was past midnight. Vader en Moeder had just gone to bed. The walls of our farm were thins and our rooms – the one of our parents, and the one for the children- were side by side, which permitted us to hear exactly the moment where, letting go of their tired body on the hard and inhospitable bed, our parents fell asleep, huddled up together to keep themselves warm.
The farm was never quiet. Between the complaint of the bed which the laths creak under the weight of the body who's moving, the North wind which makes the roof shake, the moo of a cow in the barn, and my little sister and brother's deep breaths in our bed, there was rarely a favorable instant to doze off peacefully.
Nevertheless, I knew all about these familiar noises and I had never felt any difficulties falling asleep with them. I had no clue why I was still awake at this hour and was sure I'd be exhausted when our parents would come to wake us up at six in the morning.
Then there had been voices.
I had believed myself to be daydreaming when, listening more attentively, I had heard nothing more than the gentle puff of the wind on the roof. But those voices had come back, and they were soon followed by a clear gunshot in the distance. I had quickly stood up, grimacing from the cold touch my bare feet got on the floor, and had heaved myself up on my tiptoes to see what was going outside through the window. I had a sight from the front of the farm. There were fresh footprints in the snow which stopped under the porch. I had screwed up my eyes trying to distinguish to whom they belonged to, but without success.
A stranger stood there, in the middle of the night, in the death-freezing cold. Suddenly, I had heard him talk ; I had then increased my attention and, eyes wide opened by the surprise ,I had rushed into my parents' room to find out it was empty. I hadn't heard them go down though ! Another gunshot made me screamed. I had got back to my room and had thrown myself at my little sister, shaking her.

-Louise ! Sta op ! Sta op !

She had eventually opened her eyes. I had forced her to stand up, all sleepy that she was, and had gone back to the window. Moeder was outside, her body bended by the cold, holding an oil lamp. Its light brightened the stranger's waist and chest. He wore beautiful clothes with rare ornaments and certainly very expensive. A glint had caught my attention, I had screwed up my eyes before gasping, horrified :

-A gun !

And that was only at that moment that I had seen the crimson stain spreading in the snow. My mother's tears whose face was torn with sadness. The feet of a dead body lying next to her. It only could be Vader. And the crimson liquid, his blood. I had frozen from head to toes as I realized what was going on.

-Broertje ! What was that ?

Louise had shaken my arm. I had remained apathetic, staring into space. My brain had stopped thinking. It was as if I could barely breathe. Vader en Moeder had been killed by that stranger.
I had turned to my little sister, heart pounding and eyes wide opened.

-Vader en Moeder zijn dood…I had whispered.
-Wat ? she had answered, scared.

The door of our room had been suddenly opened, making us both jump a meter in the cold air. Louise had hidden behind my back while I was watching the armed stranger with the greatest apprehension.

-Netherlands and Belgium ? he had asked with an accent which wasn't from our country.

I had acquiesced. He had come nearer, inspecting the room before saying :

-Where's Luxembourg ?

Louise had then done the stupidest thing that needed to be done in that kind of situation ; she had run to the bed, had clumsily taken our little brother and had hold him close to her chest.
The stranger had stepped in her direction, while she stepped back.

-Damisela, give me the child, he had ordered.
-No ! she had bravely – but vainly – yelled.

She had ended up against the wall and trapped in a corner of the room. The stranger had stopped near her, a hand held towards our brother, another not far away from his gun.

-Damisela, he had insisted, taking a threatening step forward.

Screaming, I had thrown myself on his weapon, trying to steal it away from him by pulling frenetically on it. In an incredible gesture of violence, the stranger had delivered me a sharp cross blow on the forehead which had made me fall. I had started bleeding and felt dizzy.

-Perdón, I didn't want to go that far, he had grumbled.

He had then taken Luxemburg from my sister. Louise was paralyzed and had let herself slip down from the wall to the ground. The stranger had sighed while rubbing our little brother's cheek with his finger. That had made me sick.

-This one is dead, he had said.

He had then walked to our bed, delicately placing Luxemburg on it and covering him with sheets, lack of a shroud. He had whispered a "Qué tristeza la muerte súbita del bebé" before standing again and watching closely my whining sister and me, with my bleeding forehead. He had said :

-I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. From now on, you are under Spanish rule.

Antonio's POV

I slowly opened the door of Belgium and Netherlands's room. It was ten 'o'clock and I needed Anthonij in the tomatoes fields.

-¡Holaaaaa~ !

A pillow flew right at me, I managed to dodge it just in time and was happy to have such good reflexes when I heard it crush on the floor. I eyed contact with Anthonij's green eyes. He was standing in his bed, swearing in Dutch. No doubts he had sent me one of his "tricked pillows" filled with bricks.

-Anthonij, I need you in the tomatoes fields.

The fair-haired young man cursed more in his language but eventually stand up. He took the strings of his pajama and started to undo them. Holding the sides of it, he then turned his head to me :

-Are ya gonna stay there oglin' me for a long time ? he muttered.

I raised my eyebrows then started to smile.

-¡Por supuesto que no! I exclaimed.

I then noticed the empty place beside Anthonij in the bed.

-Where's Louise ? I asked softly.
-Weet niet, certainly hangin' around with that Lovino Vargas.
-Ah ! Bueno. If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her.
-En waarom ?

There was a bit of a threat in his question. I smiled to him and said, my tone willing to be reassuring :

-I need her to cook the pastries I'm serving tonight.
-What's goin' on tonight ?
-A small party with friends. Francis, Feliciano and Ludwig are invited. I had told you about this.

I turned around, ready to leave.

-If, during the evening, you and your sister would like to join in… I started.
-Nee, he cut me short.

I shrugged and left to meet Lovino. I was somewhat surprised when I found him alone.

-¡Hola Lovino! ¿Cómo esta?

The boy was resting in the shade of an orange tree. And by the bitter look he gave me, I guessed I had interrupted his siesta.

-You bastard ! he yelled, didn't you see I was sleeping ?
-Sí, sí, but I wanted to ask you … Have you seen Belgium ?

The Italian raised an eyebrow.

-Louise ? No, not since this morning. I was surprised she had got up that early.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully.

-That's not like her to disappear like that. It's not good…
-Heh ? What's with that stupid worrying bastard face you're making ? Louise is big enough to manage all by herself dammit !
-Sí, pero …
-No "ma" ! If she's out, she'll come back. And now, let me sleep dammit !

He turned his back on me and lied against the bark of the tree.

-Lovino, I called. He turned around all of a sudden.
-Santa Madre di Dio ! What the hell do you want again ?
-Shouldn't have you been in the tomatoes fields an hour ago ? I asked nervously .

It wasn't rare that my sweet Lovino swears, but when he did it in Italian, it was only because he had to be particularly irritated. And indeed, he stood up, came up to me with a threatening look and stuck his foot right into my ass while screaming :

-Dopo un sonnellino !

Vocabulary :

• Dutch

Natuurlijk : Naturally / Of course
Nog ? : Again ?
Sta op ! : Stand up !
Vader en Moeder : Father and Mother
Luxemburg : Luxembourg
Ook : Also / Too
Broertje : Brother
Vader en Moeder zijn dood : Father and Mother are dead
Wat : What ?
Weet niet : Dunno
En waarom ? : And why ?
Nee : No

• French

Mais ? : But ?

• Spanish :

Damisela : Young lady
Perdón : Excuse me / Sorry
Bueno : Good
¡Hola ! : Hello ! / Good morning !
¡Por supuesto que no! : Of course not !
¿Cómo esta? : How are you ?
Siesta : Nap
Sí : Yes
Pero : But
Qué tristeza la muerte súbita del bebé: How sad the crib death

• Italian

No "ma": No "buts"
Santa Madre di Dio: Holy Mother of God
Dopo un sonnellino: After the nap.

Side notes :

Belgium is a country that can speak Dutch as well as French.
Anthonij Van de Velde and Louise Verheyen are not the human names of Netherlands and Belgium in Hetalia, but since they don't have one (or not yet) in the anime/manga, I had to invent them !
I hope everything is clear, it's the first that I write an Hetalia fanfiction ! If one or two things are not totally clear for you, don't hesitate to send me a message with your questions and I'll answer them ! Thank you for reading, R&R please !

PS : As I've already said, English is not my mother tongue and I have to translate each chapter from the French fiction I'm writing ( Ceux épris de Liberté FR Version ) one by one.
So please, please, please, excuse me if I do grammar mistakes or spelling or in anything else x_x
I hope you enjoyed reading it anyway ! =D