Rome gazed longingly at the vast wasteland that was ripe for the picking… just as soon as his army caught up. However, as he was only a fledging nation, his people could only send a small scouting party with him, but they were taking too long! With a grin that could only described as devilish behind him at the flagging men he nimbly leapt down the narrow path that wound downwards… or at least he tried to. Hindered by his heavy armour that his boss insisted he wear he slipped and plummeted downwards, slipping gracefully into an all-encompassing darkness.
He was awoken by a guttural voice far above him. Dim recollection stirred in his head that this was a barbarian, but it hurt too much to think. Whimpering he pressed his head further into the soft fur beneath him. Wait, what? Brown eyes flashed open and focused on the angel that stood over him, who upon noticing that he was awake pressed a stone spear to his bare throat.
"Who you?" came the disjointed Latin, "Why you here? My land! Mine!"
Rome could only gape at this fierce warrior as they let out a frustrated snarl and roughly yanked him up and began to pull him back towards the mountain path he had fell down from the tiny shelter that the strange savage had constructed out of a tree.
"Go! You go! I no kill you. You take this!"
A small delicately crafted golden ring was pressed into his hand and a fist collided with his face.
The second time he met this strange wild warrior was during another campaign into the wilderness. And once again Rome found himself flat on his back with a stone spear pressed into the hollow of his throat. Vibrant blue pierced his own startled brown ones for the briefest of moments before they flickered up to the golden ring that was situated on his littlest finger. The barbarian reared back with a guttural snarl and calmly picked Rome up and lifted him over his shoulder. Rome yelled for his men but even as they glanced around for their nation Rome was spirited away on the back of a blonde-haired devil and they were captured… again. Thankfully the barbarians didn't seem inclined to kill them and drink their blood like he had heard from others who had escaped them. However they did take all of their weapons and armour and supplies leaving them with enough to make it back to Italy. Once again a golden ring was pressed into Romulus' palm and they effortlessly slipped back into the forest from which they came.
His third meeting was thankfully on Romulus' terms as he disappeared from the suffocating home of his boss and tracked the other nation through the forests, using more of his sense than any actual tracking skill. The path opened up to a beautiful clear lake with only faint ripples visible on the surface.
"Hello?" he called in Latin, "Hello?" he called again in the barbarian nation's own tongue.
Complete silence reined in the clearing before…
Romulus was pressed into the mud with strong pale hands wrapped around his throat causing a sheer contrast against his own tanned skin.
"You're beautiful," he whispered raising his left hand adorned with two glistening rings to caresses the snarling man's face. For as he could plainly see as the nation moved angrily against the soft cotton clothes he wore in order to pin him down more securely, he was clearly male.
"Why you follow me? You no know what ring means?"
"No," he answered slowly, shaking his head so the other would understand him.
"It means you owe me. One time for one ring." With that it seemed the man took great delight in clubbing him viciously over the head and abandoning him in the wilderness. When he awoke a third ring was wrapped tightly around his pointer finger leaving all but his ring finger and his thumb bare.
Romulus grinned at his newest conquest that only scowled up at him. Germania snorted and tossed his head, looking all the world like a proud stallion fighting against the bit. However he obediently walked at his side as they journeyed through the harsh lands to the west of Italy. There were rumours of a rebellion beginning to stir and a show of strength would soon put a stop to all of that… or so he thought. A brief flicker of movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention but before he could do anything, he wound up on his back again with Germania crouched possessively on top of him, snarling at the unseen assailant as the Roman Army quickly and professionally slaughtered them. And another ring wound up on Romulus' thumb.
The fifth ring was both Rome's and Germania's. They smiled at each other as the golden rings slipped onto their ring fingers, simple declarations of love that would span ages.