Chapter One

"Vati, what are you holding?"

"Family, Gilbert."

"Family… What is that?"

"It's what connects us together. Your blood is my blood. Our blood is there blood. Through blood we carry the legacy of our ancestors and though it we shall live on through future kin to come."

Gilbert looked up at the blond hair and blue eyes in his vati's arms. They looked more like his vati than he did, but they were all family. Brothers.

Xx

Gilbert stared up at the top of his tent unaware of the fact that he was already awake. The dream was his earliest memory of his adorable little brother. Lately, it was becoming a nightly reoccurrence. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, he reached for his white tunic lying in a crumpled pile next to his boots.

After getting dressed, he poked his head out of his tent's flap to find that the sun had yet to crest over the horizon. A mischievous grin spread across his lips. He took a deep breath before partaking in his early morning ritual.

"Fuck you, sun! I win again!"he belted out for all the world to hear. "The brilliant me has risen in triumph while you're still sluggishly climbing out of be-"

A solider grabbed him from behind and closed his mouth tightly with one hand. "God bless it, Gilbert. How many times do I have to tell you to keep your voice down?"

Gilbert licked the man so he would remove his large hand from Gil's mouth. "Damn it… still not the first to rise."

"Your shouting wakes up half of the troops, but in foreign lands you'll wake up every enemy, dead or alive."

"But I have to let the sun know that I won." Gilbert crossed his arms and nodded matter of factly. "How else will I know that it lost to the majestic me?"

"Do you even know what the word majestic means?"

"Of course I do!" he replied, offended that the man should even have to ask. "It means me. Obviously you underestimate my majesticalnessicity."

The solider pinched the bridge of his nose and frowned deeply. "Just make yourself useful and beat up today's nation."

"Who is it? Who is it?" Gilbert's eyes widened with excitement. He loved getting into fights with other nations. The spectacular him never lost. "Is it that Hungary guy? I haven't beaten him up in a long time."

"Today we are fighting Lithuania, so do us a favor and take care of their nation for us."

"Yes, sir," Gil replied all too eagerly before running off into the forest.

Charging head long into the unknown, Gilbert let out his best war cry. Then he kept running, and running, and running… and running until he stumbled to a not so graceful stop. With his hands resting on his knees, he panted heavily while trying to catch his breath. "This Lithuania guy sure is a coward. He hasn't even come out to face me."

"Is that a ghost over there?"

Gilbert's hand immediately flew for his sword… or at least where his sword would have been if he had not forgotten it in his tent when he ran out of camp. He put extra bravado in his voice to cover up his mistake. "Who dares to call the amazing me a ghost?"

"The ghost spoke…" a voice from behind him stated.

Gilbert whirled around to face his new opponent. A boy with shoulder length brown hair and fascinated blue eyes was staring at him. "The spectacular me is not a ghost."

"Then why do you wear all white?" the boy asked.

"Because I am the good guy."

"Why do you wear a cape?"

"Because I am a knight."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Are you too stupid to recognize a knight when you see one?"

"But I thought knights were supposed to have swords."

"…" Gilbert clenched his fists. No one made a fool of him. No one. "What is your name?"

"Toris Lori-"

"No!" Gil quickly closed the gap between them getting close enough to the boy to make him take a defensive step back. "You're a nation, aren't you?"

"Yes…"

"What is your nation name?"

"I am Lithuania."

A wolfish smile formed while eyes glinted in the green dappled light of the spring nourished forest. He eyed the boy's green shirt and mossy brown pants. They served as perfect camouflage for their environment. When he ran past the boy, he did not notice him at all. Such a sneaky, cowardice nation this boy was. "Well, Lithuania, let me tell you something."

The Lithuanian nation backed up into a tree. He looked like a cornered animal. "W-w-what is that?"

Gilbert didn't need a sword for this one. The boy simply curled into a ball and let himself get knocked around. However, he did cry, and that was enough to satisfy Gilbert. While the boy was still lying on the ground, Gil trotted off cackling victoriously. "You'll remember today as the day that the glorious –not a ghost- me beat you to a pulp."

With victory in the bag, Gilbert raced back to camp in search of praise. When he got there, the troops were already celebrating their own victory. He ducked and weaved between the maze of merry men until he found the captain sitting in his tent with a large map spread over a wooden crate.

"Praise the honorable me!" Gilbert exclaimed while slamming his fists on the crate for emphasis.

One solider rolled his eyes while another messaged his temples, but the captain ruffled up Gil's hair. He seemed to have a much higher tolerance for Gilbert's childish behavior than the rest of the men. Probably because he was the only one that saw him not only as a nation, but as the child nation that he was. The captain met Gil's antics with a "boys will be boys" philosophy.

"You did well today, Gilbert." With a brief smile, the captain playfully punched the boy's shoulder. That was Gil's favorite part about being a knight; the moment when his commanding officer would praise him at the end of a good day.

"Umm, sir…"

"Yes, Gilbert?" The older man did not look up from the map, but Gilbert knew he was listening.

"Do you think that I could maybe, probably, possibly –"

"Out with it," another solider demanded.

Gilbert glared at the man who had dared to order him around. "May I visit my little brother, sir? He is staying with my cousin, in Austria. The visit would be short, I swear."

His captain let out an old man's sigh. This was never a good sign for any of Gilbert's requests. "Gilbert now is not a good time to have you running off on your own. There will be more fighting in the morning. We can't have our prized solider missing from the fray. It would be best to wait for more peaceful times."

"But that's what you said last time," Gilbert muttered under his breath. He felt flattered being called a prized fighter, but it was over a year since he last saw his little brother.

"As I said, we will need your help in the next fight. You must stay here."

"You heard the captain," a tall broad shouldered solider interjected. "If you're done causing a fuss, get back to your bunk."

Shooting his sharpest glare at the mountain of a man, Gil hoped for something more from the captain. When he did not add anything further, Gilbert knew the discussion was closed. Begrudgingly, he walked back to his tent on the edge of the camp.

"They never let me do what I want," he pouted. Reaching through his tent flap and feeling around, Gilbert found the sword that he had left behind that morning. "But someone as extraordinary as myself cannot be bothered with such restrictions."

He left the military camp unnoticed. It was easy enough due to his unparallel stealth and impeccable good luck. It took a couple days travel, but he managed to arrive at his cousin's house just as the last lights were being put out for the night. His little brother's room was on west wall's third story. Luckily, there were dense climbing ivy vines growing up that side of the house. Gilbert tugged a couple of the vines to test if they could handle his weight. The green ropes pulled tight, but gave no sign of breaking. Taking a deep breath of courage, Gil climbed his way up to the third story window. Perched on the outer sill, he tried to get his brother's attention.

Tap, tap, tap…

"Pst… H.R., you awake?"

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Pst… H.R."

. TAP.

"H.R., you awa- Agh!"

The window being pushed open made him lose his balance. Swinging his arms like a windmill, Gil managed to grab a sturdy vine. He had not noticed how high off the ground the third story was until he glanced over his shoulder. If he was not heroically fearless, he might have admitted it was a frightening experience.

"Gilbert?" a sleepy pair of blue eyes asked. "What are you doing here?"

Gil smiled as he swung his leg over the window sill. "I've come to visit my favorite little brother in the whole wide world."

H.R. looked at him with an unimpressed stare. "Do you know what time it is?"

Gilbert scooped up his little brother and proceeded to spin in circles until his little brother's protests threatened to wake somebody. He dropped the young nation on the overly stuffed bed. "And do you know how long it took me to get here? How far I had to travel? Isn't that stuffy wuss teaching you any manners?"

"I'm sorry, Gilly." H.R. was fully awake now and happy to have his older brother's company. "Do you have any new stories?"

"Do I have any new stories?" Gilbert laughed. He recanted tales of his adventures with the Teutonic Knights. Red eyes gleamed as they reminisced while blue eyes widened as they listened to romanticized tales of battle. "Why just the other day I kicked the savage Lithuania's ass completely unarmed."

"Really?" the enthralled younger nation asked.

"Of course really; do you take me for some sort of liar?"

"Wow… Gilly, you're-"

"Amazing?" Gilbert interrupted. "Spectacular? Glorious? Mejestical?"

"Awesome!" H.R. answered. "You get to travel to awesome place, fight awesome battles with awesome knights, and wear an awesome cape. You're so awesome, Gilly!"

"Hmm," Gilbert stroked his chin and smiled. "I suppose I am pretty awesome."

"You're the most awesome person I know."

"Of course I am." He ruffled up his brother's neatly slicked back hair. "I am the very essence of awesome. I sweat pure awesomeness."

H.R.'s eyes began to droop again. He yawned so hard that Gilbert could not help but imitate it. The younger brother grabbed the elder's sleeve and held it close. "Do you have to leave?"

The question tugged at Gil's heartstrings. "Sorry, H.R., but the Knights are going to need their prized fighter. What are they going to do without my awesomeness?"

"I don't want you to go." H.R. held the sleeve tight in his small hands. "Can you stay until I fall asleep?"

"I think that will be okay…" Truth of the matter was that Gilbert was a sucker for his little brother and could not refuse such an easy request. "Scoot over and make some room."

When Gilbert made himself comfortable, H.R. instantly curled up beside him. "Tell me a story," he demanded, "one about Father."

A knot formed in Gilbert's throat. He still had not forgiven their vati for separating them. What kind of father sent his sons away to live in different homes? Still, he could not deny his little brother's childish desire.

"Have I ever told you about the time Vati a white hart during one of his hunting trips?"

H.R. shook his head lazily while mumbling something that vaguely resembled the word no. Gilbert ran his fingers through his brother's fine yellow hair. The younger nation yawned. "Well, as he was tracking the prints of a great boar rumored to roam the forests of the southern range, a storm struck without warning. Water fell from the sky like ice cold pebbles. Vati, unprepared for the change in weather took shelter among the roots of a large tree. He was forced to stay there for three days until the storm let up enough for him to venture back into the woods. As he stepped out of his temporary home, he saw a pure white stag walking in the early morning light. He raised his bow to take aim, but the hart locked eyes with Vati. For a moment they stood there absolutely still. Neither one moved a muscle or even dared to breath. Vati was the first to break the spell by putting down his bow. The dear bowed deeply to Vati before running off into the forest."

A soft snore caught Gilbert's attention. He looked down at his younger brother who was deep in the blissful realm of sleep. Gently rustling his brother's hair one more time, Gil climbed out of bed and returned to the windowsill. "Good night, H.R."

The climb back down the wall was not any easier than the climb up it. It took most of his nerve not to look down or freeze up every time a breeze lightly stirred the green leaves around him. When his feet finally touched back down on solid ground, he was all too glad.

"You don't need to sneak in to see him like this, you know."

Gilbert drew his sword and whirled around.

"Put that away, you idiot." His cousin Roderich was watching him with his often unimpressed gaze. The two of them never really got along and one of Gil's biggest reasons was the "high than thou" attitude that seemed to ooze from his cousin's pores. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Holy Rome has lessons first thing in the morning. How is he going to focus if you visit him at unholy hours of the night?"

"If I come during the day, you'll just call my vati and I'll be forced back into that house." Gilbert spat on the ground between them, but put the sword back in its sheath. "Is it safe to assume you already plan on telling him I was here tonight?"

"The messenger was just sent out. He'll know by first light." Roderich placed one hand on his hip. "You know if you just accepted being raised to claim your own nation, you wouldn't have to sneak visits like this. It would save me a lot of hassle as well."

"Psht. As if I'd agree to become some prissy aristocrat like you. I don't need a nation. I have the Knights. It's much more fun to be with them than learning diplomacy and what not."

His cousin let out a short disapproving sigh. "You're to near sighted, Gilbert."

Gil flinched. He hated hearing his name fall out of the Austrian boy's mouth. "And what do you mean by that four eyes? I have perfect vision."

"I mean you do not plan for the long term. Sure you may have to put up with some things you dislike at first, but if you take your place as a nation I'm sure Germania will acknowledge you as more than just some ne'er-do-well child. For instance, did you ever consider that when you become a full-fledged nation that you may be able to take Holy Rome under your wing?"

Gilbert eyed his cousin warily. The thought never had occurred to him, but he wouldn't let the smug bastard know that. It pained him to acknowledge, but the thought of being reunited with H.R. was appealing. However, his hate for what his vati called education was a definite deterrent. "You think my vati would let me care for H.R. instead of leaving him here with you?"

"It would make sense since you two are brothers." Roderich shrugged his shoulders. "It's a definite possibility. I don't mind keeping an eye on him if you cannot handle strain of being a nation. He has been growing into a fine young gentleman since he came here. Unlike you…"

"Pansy!" Gilbert cried in anger. "I'll show you just how great a nation I can become! I'll never let H.R. become a soft weakling like you!"

"Is that so," he quirked an eyebrow condescendingly. "Then prove it, Gilbert."

"I will!" With fire burning in his eyes, Gilbert stormed past his cousin making sure their shoulders collided as he stomped by.

"Where do you think you're heading off to? You're father will be out looking for you. I doubt you will make it back to your precious knights before he finds you."

"He doesn't have to come looking for me!" Gil yelled back at him. "I'm going to find him first."

If h bothered paying attention he would have hear Roderich reply with "You are going the wrong way, idiot," but he was much too awesome to bother listening to his unawesome cousin.