Title: The True Heart of Italy
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: GerMano [Germany x South Italy/Romano.] With minor GerIta.
Rating/Warnings: PG13 for Romano's swearing. Beware the feels, the sap, and the humor. 3
Notes: JESUS CHRIST ON A POGO STIIIIICK. So, uh, FIRST OF ALL. This is a gift fic for my wonderful friend, Torayashachan, and I AM NOT SORRY FOR ANY OF THIS SHIT OKAY? Okay. I do not ship GerIta, infact, it is one of my NOTPs but I will never bash anyone who does. SHIP AND LET SHIP OKAY? Anyway, one of the reasons I can't is cause of HRE/Chibitalia and the whole implied-ness that Germany could be HRE. I also delve into the parallels, differences, and similarities between Feliciano and Lovino. I hope you all will be able to understand the points I try to make, since it's difficult for me to explain wholly, but if you want a better explanation after reading this, please feel free to drop a review or PM asking and I will respond. Okay, other than that, I hope you all enjoy this, I poured so much of myself into this fic. Also, go easy on me this is my first venture into writing something for the APH fandom and publishing it here. I've had minor ficlets and oneshots on my tumblr, but this is my first actual submission here on this site so be nice, okay? -heart-
Something should have clued Ludwig in sooner.
Actually, all the signs were there to clue him in. He'd just been too blind and dumb to notice and see it for himself.
Caught up in his own delusions and impressions.
Honestly, he could've kicked himself. It would've saved him the pain in the long run.
He had known all along Feliciano was as frivolous and open-hearted as the very breeze and ocean. It moved and encompassed and shifted continually. It was all around and could engulf. Save or ruin.
Subconsciously, he'd known. Feliciano would never truly love him fully enough to stay his own. No, the Northern half of Italy's heart was too large, too full, it loved and loved greatly, but not exclusively. It could only love all.
And Germany had wanted it to love only him.
He hadn't listened to Francis' warning, the knowing look he gave him. He'd scoffed and scowled when the Nation had told him that Feliciano was much like him. He wasn't anything like France at all! The blond nation merely sighed deeply and shook his head, answering he'd find out for himself in time.
Austria had even tried to tell him, saying he was simply a young, selfish fool to wish to change Italy's love. That Feliciano was incapable of committing wholly to simply one person. He had failed to see then the deep, weary, nearly soul-worn look the other had had in his eyes as he spoke the words. Even now, he couldn't understand what that look had meant.
Hell, even his bruder had tried to tell him. "West," Gilbert had said, an uncharacteristic look of seriousness in his eyes. Along with some other look he couldn't place. "You're in too deep." And even still, he'd ignored it.
But honestly, the bitter, scathing irony of it all wasn't all of their warnings and words.
It wasn't even the sad, melancholic, but gentle smile Feliciano gave him as he kindly told him he could not return Ludwig's wish for a fully committed relationship...
It had been the pain that reflected in them, and the sudden, stinging pain as a long forgotten warning and threat came back to him.
"Stay away from my brother, you fucking bastard potato eater! You'll only hurt him!"
He'd merely thought Romano was being overprotective of his younger sibling.
When he'd tried to, at some point, make it clear he wouldn't-
"I am not going to hurt Feliciano, why can't you see that?"
"Bastardo patata, idiota! You already are! He wouldn't tell you if you were!"
"You're being ridiculous, I care for Feliciano very much-"
There had been a moment when the South Italian looked at him. It took him by surprise. It was a long, hard look. It wasn't one he'd ever seen the other direct at him.
It looked similar to the one France, Austria, and his bruder had given him.
It was if...they were looking, but at the same time, not looking at him.
Something flickered across their gaze, before they turned their head away and mumbled something out, something he could barely hear.
"...That's why you're hurting him. And that's why I hate you."
When he asked what he meant, the Southern Italian snapped back to his normal self.
"S-Shut up and fuck off you damned potato eater! If you can't understand what I'm saying in that fucking small brain of yours then that's your fault!"
Romano had promptly ran off by then, leaving the German behind, utterly confused.
Now, the irony all sank in and made sense.
Well, some parts, at least.
He understood now that his deep care and love for Feliciano, his wish for a committed relationship were what was hurting Feliciano, that he couldn't outright tell him to stop until he'd voiced it. He knew they'd all been right in their warnings.
But what he didn't understand still, was how Romano knew from the very beginning. From what he knew, they'd been separated for many years before being reunited and the two halves of Italy being unified.
The only thing that had ever clued him in, when thinking about it, had been the odd, almost incomprehensible flash in Southern Italy's eyes when Feliciano had first introduced them. Right before the southern half threw insults at him.
He couldn't stop wondering why, and how. It made him confused and he hurt.
Honestly now, he didn't know what was worse at all. Having Feli around still as a friend and being reminded constantly that nothing more would ever be between them because he'd been selfish, or the thought of being alone.
But again, life itself was strange and odd and would always change unexpectedly. Or rather, perhaps not so much change, as shed new angles and light upon things never noticed.
Like how, strangely, animals were repulsed by Feliciano.
While he'd trained his dogs to never attack one of his friends and comrades he'd always, always noted the strange tenseness to them whenever the Italian was around. Always looked wary, perhaps not defensive or aggressive, but simply watching him.
Young children, while at first enamored by his happy-go-lucky attitude, would quickly show signs of unsettled anxiety. Something Germany had never quite figured out why. He had always attributed it to the fact that Feliciano was just too happy and hyper for even children.
Hell, even his brother's Gilbird tended to avoid Feliciano when he was around.
But that wasn't what he was dwelling on right now. Despite those oddities about Feliciano, the other traits he had, had always seemed to outweigh that.
But now...
Other things were coming to him.
Namely, things about Romano.
As if that wasn't strange enough. He never had thought so intently about all the differences or similarities between the two besides their looks. It had been obvious. Lovino was simply the annoying, mouthy older brother of Feliciano.
Things now seemed so much clearer in hindsight.
The time he'd found Romano sitting on the porch of his house waiting for Feliciano. Aster, Blackie, and Berlitz had surrounded him and were giving him ample affection, tails wagging enthusiastically. It had surprised Ludwig. There had been a deeply content, soulful look of simplistic happiness in the Italian's gaze as he watched how gently the other had pet and stroked the dog's fur and heads in return. His face flushed and the light quickly left when he realized he was looking at him and looked away, gently shooing the dogs away.
The time he'd accidentally run into him when looking for Feliciano, he'd been kneeling beside a young child-a girl-who was covered in dirt from head to toe and crying, sporting a skinned knee and clutching a patched up teddy bear to her chest as the Southern Italian was mumbling gently, but hastily for her to calm down as he cleaned around the cut with a handkerchief gently doused with bottled water and then gently tied another handkerchief around it after doing so and smiling shyly, but gently at them and with a soft, uncharacteristic-like voice, told her she would be okay and to run home. The flush on his face when the girl threw her arms around him and pecked him on the cheek with a call of 'Grazie!' before darting away before he'd stood up and watched her disappear into the crowd had been nearly radiant before turning to find him standing there. His face had flushed brighter and he yelled loudly at the top of his lungs that he would kill him if he spoke a word to anyone of this.
Hell, there were a few times Ludwig could even recall Gilbird landing on Romano's head or shoulder and the other did nothing about it. Once he'd even saw him give the bird a gentle, affectionate nudge with his fingers. As lively and surprising as the man to whom the bird belonged to, it chirped out a sharp note and plucked at Lovino's hair-specifically, his curl. The loud, sharp squeak that the other emitted and the bright flush to his face was a sight to behold and for a moment he had worried that the Italian would try to wring the bird's neck. What happened took him by surprise.
Laughter.
Sheer, mirthful laughter.
The Italian turned his head to look at the bird, a broad amused grin on his face and flicked the bird with his finger in playful retaliation. "Tch, no wonder the other potato bastard keeps you around. You give as much sass as he does, don't you?"
If anything, the bird on the Italian's shoulder looked smug as it chirped out another note. The Italian continued to smile before he gave the bird's wing a gentle stroke with his finger.
"Good. It'd be a disappointment if you didn't take after your owner. Do me a favor and go give him some sass, would you?"
The bird only responded by plucking the brunette's hair again before taking flight from his shoulder and indeed, flew off towards the other room. Moments later came the loud yelling of Gilbert as things began crashing, along with loud tweets and shrill chirps that sounded almost like a drill whistle, still followed by Gilbert's continuous yelling about betrayal and mutiny from his bird.
Ludwig watched the humored grin stretch across the brunette's face while he himself grimaced at the thought of all the cleaning up he would have to do. And at the same time, wondered how the Italian managed to have Gilbird listen to him when even Ludwig had trouble at times with the bird. He ducked out of the doorway when he saw the Italian shift, so he wouldn't have to deal with the other yelling at him once more.
The other differences besides those, and the fact Lovino could swear up a storm, came down to a few very simple things.
Feliciano was incapable of harming anyone unless backed against the wall or forced to, and even then, only did so as a last resort.
Lovino, however...
Ludwig once, and only once, caught a glimpse of the even darker side of the Southern personification. And it was something that surprised, yet intrigued him.
It wasn't exactly a secret that Romano handled plenty of the uglier details and work in the country, but Ludwig had never seen it personally. Likewise, he knew Romano was the one that handled and was mostly responsible for the Italian Mafia and their affairs.
Only once had he stumbled across that particular side of the Italian.
He'd unknowingly stumbled across the meeting spot of the mafia and one of their targets. He'd hidden himself well in the shadows behind a crate once he realized what was going on and stayed quiet as he watched.
"You've been skimping out on us, I see." Came a voice, speaking to the person a couple of the mafia members were restraining. Ludwig's eyes widened when he recognized the voice and the owner as they stepped from behind a large crate.
"I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't have anything worth giving you for a while... I-It was a-all j-junk... Please..." The person, who, even to Ludwig, looked like nothing but a cheap sleaze.
"Material value isn't always what we're wanting, you know that. You were given a contract and you did not fulfill it. That leaves me most displeased." Romano had murmured, there was an unmistakably dangerous, dark tone to it that Ludwig had never heard before from the other. Sure, he yelled and spewed threats and insults at practically everyone, but never did he speak like this to any of them.
"Gi-give me another chance, per fevore..." The man begged, their eyes were wide with fright.
"Why should I?" Lovino answered, eyes flashing with contempt and anger.
Shaking, the man flailed his mostly restrained arms, but made a motion towards the inside of his jacket. "B-Because I do have something of use!"
Lovino's eyes narrowed and Ludwig was unaware he was holding his breath as he watched the slow way the Southern representation of Italy stalked forward as if he were a predator about to down its prey before with slow, carefully slow and deliberate movements, shifted the man's jacket and reached inside the inner pocket before withdrawing a velvet pouch.
He watched as Romano's brow arched with slight interest before his long. gloved fingers-Ludwig had never exactly realized how tapered and delicate they looked, nor how elegant they seemed to be encased in said leather, Feliciano's weren't even that tapered and delicate. Thin, yes, but a little too soft and gaunt-pulled the strings on the pouch loose and proceeded to overturn said pouch down into his other, face-up palm.
Ludwig had to bite down on his lip to keep his gasp of surprise from escaping his mouth.
One of the largest gems he had ever laid eyes on tumbled out into the southern Italian's palm, but what's more, he saw a look pass over Romano's eyes before they raised their gaze back to the quivering man. "...Where did you get this?" He asked evenly.
"I-I... I acquired it...from an...old friend..." The man slowly answered.
"A name." Romano said flatly.
"C-Cicero... Cicero Bianchi." The man finally stuttered out.
Ludwig watched another look pass through the Italian's face for a moment as they remained silent and Ludwig knew what he was doing. He was systematically checking internally the names of all of his citizens to confirm the truth.
Finally, the Italian gave a nod and stepped back. "...Consider your debt paid."
"Th-thank you..."
Ludwig felt his body tense a few milliseconds before Romano actually moved, but when he did it was like lightning and the German couldn't even blink before it was over.
The Italian had already dragged the sharp blade of his dagger across the man's throat cleanly and the man gurgled and twitched in the other men's hold for a long moment before stilling down into faint twitches.
Lovino's eyes were veiled, but he was grimacing as he took out a handkerchief and wipe the blood off of his dagger before sheathing it back in the hidden sheath on his person. "...However, I don't forgive and forget. A sleight against me and what's mine is unforgivable." He finished to the now-corpse.
He watched as Lovino put the gem back into the pouch and pulled the strings tight before slipping it into his jacket's inner pocket before inclining his head back to his 'boys' and gave a sharp, wordless nod. The men that were in the area began to systematically leave, the two still holding the body were last and hauled the corpse away to be disposed of.
There was a long silence as Ludwig continued to watch Romano stand there and stare off into the distance with a cold look.
When he began to move slowly to edge out of his place and make a retreat, he soon froze again as he heard the click of a gun and when his eyes focused forward again, he saw the Italian looking straight at the place he was standing, even hidden in the shadows with an unreadable look, a gun pointed straight towards his head. "Give me a reason I shouldn't drop you on the spot now, potato eater." Romano spoke, his voice even and quiet. Still very different from the tone he was used to hearing.
Ludwig slowly stepped out from the shadows and from behind the crate and offered the Italian a very serious look and then sighed. "You'd drop me even if I did give one, but I'd like to think you know how I am well enough to know I would keep my silence about what I just saw. Besides," The German grimaced, looking to the side with a contemplative expression. "This isn't any worse than some of the things I or my people have done..."
From the corner of his eye, he watched the Italian's face and how his brows furrowed, lips drew tightly, eyes flickered with something the German couldn't read fast enough before the Italian whipped around on his heel, the audible click of the safety being turned back on the gun and the rustle of fabric as it was holstered. "Go. Before I change my mind. Not a word."
Germany gave a faint nod, and slipped away the way he'd come, not looking back.
The next time he saw Lovino was when Feliciano made a loud, happy announcement that an old, precious gift from Grandpa Rome had been found and returned to him as he burst into the meeting room two months later. Ludwig's eyes widened briefly when Feliciano held up a large, familiar gem to the shock of many of the other Nations. His eyes slowly trailed over to look at Romano. Though visibly, the Southern personification of Italy looked annoyed and put off, he noted that in the deepest gleam of the Italian's eyes was pride and a happiness that stemmed from seeing his younger brother overjoyed. When he felt the German's eyes on him, his eyes turned towards him and they met wordlessly.
The personification of Germany didn't bother to hide his own look of respect towards the other and gave a small inclination of his head.
He received a glare in response, and a slight flush appeared on their cheeks but the look of pride increased before they snapped their head in the other direction to avoid his gaze again.
It honest to god, made no sense to Ludwig anymore why he was suddenly so very aware of all the sudden split differences and similarities between Feliciano and Lovino. And to be honest, he couldn't even remember when he'd truly began adding the Southern half of Italy's real name to the list of things he referred to the other as. He'd always called him Romano, at least until the incident in the conference room when the brunette had had enough of the disrespect with everyone calling Feli, Italy and not recognizing him. Since then he had honestly made the point to refer to the other as South Italy. But when had he added their human, real name to the list, he couldn't tell.
He also found, with some idle shock on his behalf, that he was no longer as perturbed whenever the other would spout off at him or throw insults. In fact, there were days he honestly welcomed it. And deigned to fire a few back, just to make things interesting. Because somehow, seeing how heated and responsive the other turned at his reactions was not only very interesting, but seemed to fascinate him. Despite his mouth and his insecurities, the other was so full of life and fire. He had a drive Feliciano lacked, he never backed down from what he perceived as a challenge. He'd also noticed he only retreated and ran from threats was when the brunette believed or knew whoever it was, was stronger than him or apt to give him too much of a struggle.
But there was the anomaly-the Italian had no qualms with trying to anger him with his insults and would, yes, at times run away when he thought he had out of fear and perpetual knowledge that Ludwig was stronger than him, but that was just it. From the side of Lovino that Ludwig had seen, however brief, he was almost sure the other would be able to match, if not perhaps better him. The other was not as strong in terms of physical strength but he knew for a fact the other was cunning, intelligent, he used his wits and tact to gain the advantage and pressed any weakness he could exploit to the fullest. He absolutely had no doubt that Lovino could honestly bring him down if he wanted.
And yet...he never did. And it puzzled him.
And it for some ungodly reason, was driving his logical mind insane.
He just didn't get it. There were pieces to this puzzle he was missing, equations he was overlooking, parts that didn't add up but he didn't know what they were or how to even go about finding said pieces or find the numbers to fill in the blanks.
He'd wanted to ask someone, but there was just this feeling in him that told him he shouldn't. Like one of those strange omniscient feelings when you just known you shouldn't ask something because you're better off not knowing.
It would take him another six months of internally giving himself a headache on top of working himself to the bone before another piece would click into place.
It was a relatively quiet dinner this time as he, his brother Gilbert, Feliciano, and a sulking Lovino sat around and were eating a dinner Feliciano made.
It had been hard for a while to have things progress as they once had, when he still felt hurt. When he'd been teetering between not knowing whether to be alone or not. But things had once more settled. There was still pain, but it was not so strong. More like a dull ache. Seeing Feliciano's brightness, it helped. There was also the fact that Lovino's presence was becoming something more frequent with his brother's visits. Strangely enough, his interactions with the other, from the mild arguments to the almost friendly banter and the unending amount of sass from either of them, it had helped too.
Sitting here, he had another moment to mull over the two Italians sitting at the table.
They weren't quite like night and day, not at all. There were some similarities that kept them from being polar opposites. But at the same time, Ludwig was also coming to realize that there was a balance between them, gaps and bridges between that created the very borders that both separated, and united them. They were a matching puzzle piece in and of itself. The realization was beginning to dawn that all this time, Lovino had been right in his claim of wanting to be seen as Italy, too. Because as he was able to look upon them both with this new train of thought, he could see so very clearly.
Like yin and yang, they were like two different sides of the same coin. Perhaps not quite the same soul, though certain aspects of it were most certainly shared, they were of similar body, Lovino's being a little older, a little stronger in honesty, but there was an undeniable resemblance that reflected in their cores.
This realization made another part of the equation fit. If Veneziano was the face of Italy, with it's beauty, its lavish, cheerful look and fun atmosphere, the heart of Venice, then it truly meant, above all, that Romano was the heart of Italy; with its foundation, its ancient roots, the less glamorous but undeniably raw and real atmosphere, where the true origins of their romance began from long before the renaissance and neo-artistic eras of Venice, there was the face of Rome.
Now, more things were beginning to make sense.
Now he understood exactly how those two, despite their differences and even their separation, couldn't truly separate their unity or bond. No matter how much Lovino insults and scoffs at his brother's antics and potential idiocy, or all the times Feliciano beams and showers nothing but praise for his elder brother, Germany finally understands why.
"Oi, potato bastard, you look like your head's about to explode from how hard you're thinking."
The voice makes him snap out of his internal musings.
When he focuses back on the real world, he realizes that the only one left at the table is Romano, Gilbert and Feliciano gone. He blinks.
"How long...?" He questions softly.
"Out of it? Twenty minutes. Tch, what the hell do you think of that makes you zone out for so fucking long anyway?" The other questioned, rolling their eyes.
Twenty minutes? That was all? Honestly, it felt like he'd just had years worth of knowledge come flooding to him and it only took twenty minutes to process it?
"Ah, I was..." He began to say, then sighed deeply, it was a heavy one as if he was trying to come to some kind of balance.
Romano blinked at him, brow raising. "If you're gonna talk, don't just shut up in the middle of your sentence, bastard."
"Sorry," Ludwig replied with another sigh. "I merely came to a long realization of something I should have perhaps noticed a long time ago."
"That doesn't make any sense at all, you bastard! And what the hell, you're not even giving any sort of fucking context here!" Lovino huffed, glaring at the other.
Ludwig started chuckling quietly at the others response, making the other's eyes widen and mouth drop open a little for a moment before their face flushed bright red and he looked away immediately.
"D-don't laugh at me you asshole!"
The blond shook his head. "I wasn't laughing at you, I promise. But I will do my best to explain what I came to realize."
The brunette huffed loudly, face still red, but gave a small nod for the other to continue.
"Forgive me if I say anything that upsets you, but I was merely contemplating the similarities and difference between you and Feliciano." He explained calmly.
He watched the other's eyes flash, his lips tighten and his face flush again. The look in his eyes switched back and forth between something akin to pain, bitterness, and then over to interest and curiosity, and some mild degree of anger before the other managed to spit out a reply. "...Go on."
"And I came to realize that it's pointless to try and separate you two into different categories. You're both Italy. Veneziano, the face of Italy, with it's modern, neo-renaissance look and feel. And Romano, the heart of Italy, the core, the foundation, with the more rugged way of things that may not be as glamorous or flashy, but just as real. The core is not as affected by the people and the time, it remains much the same, whereas the face and the surface constantly changes." He answered, staring directly at the Italian and waiting for his reaction.
It took a while. A few minutes passed before the brunette's eyes slowly widened as the German's words sank in, his face flushed again, mouth parted, but no sound came, but there was the increased intake of oxygen as if the other was struggling to properly bring air in. There were so many things flooding through the other's eyes and expression that it made Ludwig dizzy trying to keep up and eventually gave up.
Slowly, the other's eyes focused back on him and their face was still red, but it had toned down to just a simple, light dusting. It suited the other's face and skin tone, and though the German wouldn't ever say so aloud since it'd upset the Italian, looked cute and right on him.
"It's about fucking time someone got it..."
The other's voice was so quiet, the blond nation barely heard it himself.
He almost missed the smile that rose to the others face.
It was small, barely an upturn, but it was honestly the most realest, and beautiful one he'd ever saw. Feliciano's smiles were bright, but so frequent and much like the scenery around Venice: pretty, bright, but too overdone. Something that can be tired of quickly. Lovino's smile... This particular smile. It's like seeing the sunrise over Rome: Raw, bright, absolutely real. But like a sunrise, brief and momentary.
And God help him, that smile made the German's heart quake.
And in that moment Ludwig lost his heart to Italy once more.
Not to the Northern half, but the Southern.
The Italian said nothing further and there was silence for a time. When the other finally got up and began to walk past, they paused. Ludwig turned his head to gaze up towards the other in confusion.
"...Thank you." The other said, voice so soft and quiet the German had to strain to hear it and before he could even reply, the other had hastily rushed away.
Germany stared after the Southern Italian in silence, before a small smile of his own rose to his face in response to the words.
It was a gradual shift, but that conversation lead the way towards others.
Towards Lovino of his own volition coming to seek him out. Towards long explanations of all the things Germany has come to realize.
Towards a week long stay in Southern Italy for a personal, expansive tour with Lovino taking Ludwig to see everything, in Lovino's opinion, worth seeing.
Towards a night on the town, with dinner and later on, a very breath-taking view of the stars from a beautiful valley.
Towards a very quiet, very soft exchange of words.
"Now you've seen everything there is of Italy."
"Not everything, but more than I could ever ask for..."
"...Ask."
"Lovino-"
"Ask for it. Please..."
"...May I see the deepest part of Rome?"
A shiver.
A held breath.
Hope.
Fear.
"Yes."
Lips meet.
Germany feels more than anything the heat, the fire, the utter soul and life that stems from within Romano.
He nearly drowns in the weight that engulfs him, the emotion. He's reduced to nothing more than a weak man from the force and strength of the other.
Utterly helpless against the magnitude of sensation that fills, surrounds, and embraces him with such perfection that it breaks something in him.
Love.
To be given such a thing, to be shown, the whole, truest depth of the emotion...
Ludwig knows now, more than ever, that everything he is, and ever will be...
All that he is, all that he has...
His heart, his soul.
His love.
Belongs to Lovino, the true Heart of Italy.
-End-