As a result of O'th' Windy Side of the Law being on hiatus, I'm posting this series instead! It's March Break so I'll try to update a few times.

~Awesome Maple

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

April 6th, 1912, Part I

Gilbert knew he should have paid for them, but stealing was in his nature.

Gilbert walked with a guilty conscience up the streets of Southampton, English accents chattering excitedly and swirling all around him. He was a foreigner, a German, and his English wasn't very good, so he had a difficult time understanding what they said as he squeezed past them in the busy marketplace. The tickets burned in his pocket, and he kept a firm hand on them, nearly crinkling them. He would not let go until he got home.

He hastened his pace and rounded the corner up the cobblestone streets, which were slick with a recent drizzle. He'd been in Southampton for a while, yet wasn't used to the wetness of the country, England, yet. How long at he been here? Was it a month, perhaps? Three weeks? Five? He shook his head as he rounded another corner, crossing a pub. It didn't matter.

Gilbert made it quickly to his tiny apartment, which he'd rented, from a sweet old lady. Too bad he would have to steal into the night, leaving one day early, in order to not pay. He hated cheating old people of their money. He checked the time on his cheap watch.

16:32. Ludwig should be waking up from his nap right about now.

Gilbert scampered up the steps as fast as he possibly could, the tickets feeling hot as live coals in his hand. He reached the top floor and unlocked the door to the quaint apartment. His heart fluttered with excitement.

"Gilbert!" A sleepy 8-year-old Ludwig poked his head around the corner and grinned widely before running to Gilbert as Gilbert took off his jacket and hat and shoes. He carefully pulled out the two tickets as Ludwig clutched his older brother's waist.

"I got the tickets," Gilbert said, masking the guilt completely. He'd stolen them from an elderly, poor-looking man. It would probably have cost him a lot, but it would have cost Gilbert more. He felt the guilt, but pushed it aside. This was for his little brother.

"Wahoo!" Ludwig cheered, and Gilbert smiled a soft smile as he ruffled Ludwig's long blond hair. As he ran his fingers through the boy's hair, he realized just how long it really was. He needs a haircut, and so do I, Gilbert thought as he brushed his silvery hair out of his eyes, we could go to the barber tomorrow, we have enough money.

"Can I see them?" Ludwig was a little ball of energy. Gilbert had promised his little brother a better land where they didn't have to run away from anybody anymore. Where Ludwig could get an education and Gilbert could get a job. Gilbert crouched down to Ludwig's height and demonstrated the tickets.

"See?" Gilbert pointed to the writing, "What does it say?" He asked. Ludwig studied the tickets for a moment.

"Third Class ticket to the Titanic... Departure on April 10th, 1912," Ludwig picked out only the important information. Smart kid.

"That's right buddy!" Gilbert pulled Ludwig towards the miniature kitchen, setting the tickets on the table but never letting them out of his sight for a second,

"We're on our way to freedom!"

Tanja and Berwald are their dinner calmly, in silence. Peter, their little 13-year-old source of joy, slurped his soup loudly.

Today was a good day in the Finnish-Swedish/Danish-rooted household. Berwald had gotten a job aboard the Titanic as a stocker, so they'd basically gotten their ticket to New York for free. It was hard, long labour, in the boilers, nestled deep into the belly of the Titanic, but at least they were getting a way to NYC, and then to Canada.

The family of three celebrated in silence. Berwald was a quiet and intimidating man, and Tanja was sweet and equally quiet. This would change once Berwald's brother would walk through the door tomorrow, rousing the household, which had recently been sold to another English family.

Their son Peter, on the other hand, took strongly after Mathias, his uncle, in terms of loud mannerisms. He was the one that filled he quiet household with noise and he was a spring of life.

Peter leapt from the table and rushed to the dining room, making boat noises. Tanja smiled graciously and Berwald mustered his own smile in return.

Today was a good day.

"Do we have to go?" Alfred whined yet again. 16-year-old Alfred slumped his shoulders as he packed up his suitcase. He folded a shirt haphazardly before tossing it in. His bed was across from his brother's and their suitcases were sitting open on top, clothes laid out everywhere.

"Look," his twin brother Matt sighed, aggravated with his brother's complaining, "dad needs to go for work, and they already paid for the tickets. It'll be an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! This is the biggest ship ever!"

"Ugh," Alfred groaned as he tossed in some socks, "we're missing some school, which is okay, but that means I'm also not going to see my friends for the rest of the year!" Alfred sat on his bed with his head in his hands.

He respected his father's demanding job as a... (Businessman? He didn't know.) But crossing the Atlantic was kind of ridiculous since it was the middle of April. Thank God it wasn't a permanent move.

"Come on," Matt said gruffly, closing his first suitcase and opening his second one, "stop being a wanker. Pack up your shit. We're leaving the tenth—remember? It's the sixth already. We still have to make the move from here all the way to Southampton! We're leaving tomorrow."

Alfred rubbed his eyes in frustration before he stood and continued packing his suitcase.

There was no way out of going to this trip and leaving his friends behind until June.

Whatever.

"Cut!" The director concluded, and Chiara snapped back to reality, breaking out of character.

"Perfect," the director, perched from his director's chair, praised the Italian actress. She was gorgeous, talented, and on her way to fame in America. Just that morning, Felicia had purchased two high-class tickets for the Titanic.

"Are we done for today?" Chiara asked, somewhat impatient. It has been a long day, as her partner kept messing up the scenes with his lines.

"Yes," the director grinned, and Chiara marched off set. Two days and the movie would be complete on her part, and she would be off to Southampton to freedom.

Chiara hastily washed off the makeup and got into regular pedestrian clothes, her sweet acting flare gone as she transformed back into the fiery young (and somewhat rude) adult she was. Her twin sister, Felicia, would be waiting at home, probably wolfing down some pasta.

She could envision the tickets in her mind's eye. They were sitting on the coffee table in their living room. The sisters shared an apartment in Wales and made movies for the Wale folk. It was so far the best job in Europe, the biggest movie that would come out in what, June? What a shame she didn't remember the title. Chiara was solely focused on getting to the Titanic.

America, here I come.

Antonio, Roderich and Daniel sat huddled in a restaurant around a round table, enjoying a night out. Under the table were a viola, a violin and a fiddle, tucked safely away in their cases. The trio were born and raised English, but they were third-generation immigrants from Spain, Austria and Hungary respectively.

"I can't believe we managed to land a place in the orchestra on the Titanic!" Daniel exclaimed excitedly, sipping his coffee and tapping his foot delicately against the case of his fiddle.

"Now don't get too excited," Roderich warned him, taking a bite from his dessert, a small pastry, "we don't know if we're playing in the lounges or if we're playing above deck. Besides, they weren't clear if it was an acceptance letter or also a rejection letter." Antonio and Daniel rolled their eyes. Leave it up to Roderich to ruin the fun.

"Well," Antonio cut in, stirring his own coffee, "we have the letter right here, right now. It's time we opened it, don't you think?"

"Right," Daniel set down his empty coffee and took the envelope, which had been sitting in the middle of the table the entire course of their dinner. His green eyes scanned the white, slightly crinkled envelope of acceptance—or rejection—and he swiftly opened it, pulling out the letter and unfolding it.

"We're playing on deck!" Daniel whispered excitedly, and Antonio snatched it, wanting to see for himself. He grinned widely, passing it to the sceptical Austrian-blooded man.

"I guess we are!" Roderich matched their grins. His foot brushed the case of his violin as he sat up a little bit straighter. Just as they were going to make plans, a chubby finger tapped his shoulder, and he turned to see a Chinese man with a camera and a notepad, dressed somewhat stylishly, smiling down at him.

"Hello," he started, pulling up a chair and sitting down, "my name is Yao and I couldn't help but hear that you have been accepted as musicians on the Titanic! I am a reporter from Oxford—well, I was born in China, but immigrated here in 1890—and I am too going onto the Titanic. I was wondering—do you mind if I interview you and have your story published in the newspaper on board the Titanic, the Atlantic Daily Bulletin?"

The trio looked at each other and nodded, and Daniel spoke up, with a wide smile,

"Why not?"

TO BE CONTINUED...

I feel almost satanic right now. I know what is going to happen.

I am very, very, very excited to see your reactions!

This is my first historical AU, and I can't wait to see how it will turn out! And omg, just envision 8-year-old Ludwig. Just imagine it. I bet you you're smiling right now at how cute that is.

I got into the SNK fandom by the way. I might cosplay Levi!

Anyways, good luck with this fic.

~Awesome Maple