Those Three Words

Chapter One: Nails and Information

Warnings:A lot of dialogue.

Disclaimer: Neither Mr. B or I own Hetalia of the Middle Ages.

It was an early start to the day, birds were chirping, and a seventeen year old Italian apprentice was studying. He needed to begin work on his masterpiece to present to his grandpa. He was the only one up, not even his younger brother, Feliciano, the usual early bird, was awake. Lovino was sitting in the calm silence of the workshop when he heard the distant 'clop' of hooves on dirt. Looking up, he saw a silhouette of a man riding a horse heading for their guild house. Quickly, Lovino grabbed his things and rushed them back into the guild house and to his shared room, placing them under his bed. He then swiftly went to warn his grandpa of the incoming customer.

But, his grandpa was slow. Romulus Vargas was the kind of man that liked to take his time with things that didn't require immediate action. "Why rush yourself when you don't have to? You should take the time to enjoy life's simplest tasks."

Eventually he got changed and made it downstairs just as the customer was knocking on the wooden door. Romulus answered the door with a warm smile. "Ciao," Romulus greeted, gesturing for the customer to come inside.

"Hola," Came the reply.

The eldest Vargas was a bit taken aback by the greeting as it was uncommon in their village. "A Spaniard, huh?"

"Sí, that is true."

"What is a Spaniard doing around here?" Romulus questioned, then ordered his grandson to the kitchen to fetch them some wine.

The Spaniard shrugged, "What anyone else is, I guess. Though, I am here for a more, ah, special reason. That involving a certain cobbler guild."

Romulus looked suspiciously at the Spaniard. He lead him to the living room and took a seat in front of the fireplace, gesturing for the Spaniard to do the same. "Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

The Spaniard nodded, sitting adjacent to the old Italian man. "My business here must be done hastily. I am a very busy man, you see."

"Well, you couldn't have chosen a sooner time to come my friend. We are not busy at all because the town hasn't awoken yet."

"I apologize, but I couldn't come any later. I am busy, as I said." The Spaniard turned his head when heard the floorboards creaking. His green eyes fell upon the short haired Italian standing in the kitchen doorway, a tray with wine and two glasses on it. The Spaniard couldn't take his eyes away as the young man bent over to set the tray on the table. The way his hair fell into his face and looked so soft was captivating. Almost as captivating as that impressive behind-

"Ahem," Romulus said bringing the Spaniard out of his stupor. "So, who are you, busy Spaniard?"

"Oh, me? I am Antonio," Antonio said, stretching his hand out for Romulus to take.

"Just Antonio?" Romulus said not taking the offered hand.

Antonio retracted his hand sheepishly. "To many, yes."

"Well then, Antonio, I expect you already know me," Romulus said a bit tentatively, taking the wine and shooing his grandson.

"Sí, I do. You are Romulus Vargas, one of the best cobblers for miles around."

"You are not from around here. Why do you want me to fix your shoes?"

"Well... that's not the only reason," Antonio admitted, avoiding eye contact.

Romulus raised an eyebrow before standing and heading for his study. He ushered the young Spaniard to follow him. Antonio compiled, following Romulus to the secluded study. This left Lovino to stand awkwardly in the kitchen.

"Lovi, go fetch your brother and head out to the chicken coop. I want fresh eggs for breakfast," Romulus ordered Lovino.

Lovino complied. It was his grandpa after all, and he had to follow his orders. Without a word, Lovino disappeared up the narrow staircase, leaving Romulus and Antonio. Romulus guided Antonio into the study, placing him in a chair adjacent to his own. The door was locked, and only Romulus had the key. A small desk sat between them, completely bare.

"Now you may discuss your other reasons," Romulus urged, leaning on the wooden desk, studying Antonio.

"What do you do? Besides being a cobbler," Antonio questioned, trying not to sound too suspicious.

"Besides being a cobbler? Well, I am a full time grandfather and guild master. Along with being a father to orphans. Those are my duties. What about you?"

"I get work wherever I find it."

"What kind of work?" Romulus questioned.

"The same type of work that you aren't mentioning."

"Hmm, clever boy," Romulus said, his lips twitching upward in amusement. "What do you need?"

"Is this a safe haven?"

"Of course. Almost soundproof walls. My grandsons are upstairs."

"Your grandsons? Fine boys?"

"Fine indeed. I saw you admiring my eldest."

Antonio blushed slightly, averting his eyes. He cleared he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Well, he was, uh, interesting..."

Romulus quirked an eyebrow, a small smirk on his face. "Intresting, huh?"

"May we move back to subject?"

"Go ahead. You are the one who set us astray."

Antonio wanted to point out that it was actually Romulus who had set them off topic, but he decided to forget the matter. "Well, I am rather curious about your," Antonio had to search for the word, "guild."

"Guild is the correct term. We have discussed the matter of my guild and I wish we would move on now." Romulus said, getting a little irked.

"Ah, yes, I apologize. I need to know how far you would go."

"How far? In what sense? The King of England?" Romulus joked.

"Maybe," Antonio was completely serious.

This surprised the old Italian man. "You can't be serious!" He scoffed.

"Completely serious. Before I discuss any matters with you, I must know your limit."

"Hell, what do you think we are? A militia?!"

"From what I heard, it seems you are."

"Tell me your proposition, your reasoning, and my pay. Then you will get my end of the deal."

"Why not the other way around?"

"Because you approached me."

"I wish to leave. You apparently don't provide the correct services."

"Listen to me. I go as big as necessary. Why must you know?"

"For my provider."

"Who is?"

"None of your concern."

Romulus glared, "So you want information from me and yet won't give any yourself?"

Antonio smiled. To anyone untrained in the art of reading people, it would've seemed like a completely friendly smile. People like Romulus, however, could see the cunning behind his smile. "That's the way this game is played, no? It's sort of like a 'you-scratch-my-back-I-scratch-yours' type of thing. You tell me what I want to know, then you get your information. You want just the opposite, but I won't talk until I get what I want. So, we're stuck at a stalemate with absolutely no back scratching going on. At least, until one of us gives in, and I assure you it won't be me."

Romulus was silent for many moments, not sure if he should trust this Spanish stranger. He, having many years of experience, knew something was off. He sighed. "Like I said, I go as big as necessary. Only with good pay and good reason," Romulus answered.

"Thank you, you should expect me within the week with my provider's answer. They are a little ways away, so if I'm not back within the end of the week you should still expect me," Antonio said, heading for the door, only to find it locked. Romulus stood, unlocking the study door and walking Antonio out. Outside, he mounted his horse, but before leaving he turned to Romulus with a smile plastered on his face.

"You should grow your nails out for my next visit, sí?" And with that Antonio rode away, returning to where he'd come from.

A/N: Thank you for reading and I hoped you enjoyed. This chapter is relatively short and I hope to produce larger and better works.

Hello, loves. I, Mister B, do declare that any grammatical/spelling errors are my fault. Hope you enjoyed.