A Body to Please You
Chapter 1
On a white mare with a grey mane, rides a blonde boy with ice blue eyes and nothing more on his mind than taking the hand of a girl with dusk colored hair. His doublet stuck to him as he rides towards the home of his friend Austria. They had been riding for weeks now, after the completion of the campaign that would later be known as The Thirty Years War, and the boy nation of the Holy Roman Empire was more than ready to see his beloved Italy. It had been such a long while. He had been forced to forfeit the brush from the gift she had given them at their parting, but even now the remaining wood clings to his hip as a last resort in battle. He never wanted to dirty it, but he couldn't name the amount of times the sturdy present had saved him. The wood is chipped and splintered, but it didn't matter anymore, he is on his way home to the girl he loves.
He blushes a little, shifting in his saddle, praying. What if she no longer loved him? What if it was just the confession of a child? A child's confession and a child's kiss. He had meant every word. He had loved her since the 10th century. How would he go on? How would he explain to her what she meant to him? How her vision had kept his heart beating no matter how terrible the battle, how much the promise of finding safety in her arms after the war had inspired him to fight harder. How would he live if he saw her holding hands with another boy?"
What if he hadn't turned out the way she wanted? He worried his lip thinking about the way his body had aged. He was physically about sixteen now, what if she were older, or younger? What if he is shorter than her! How would he possibly cut the figure of a dashing, heroic, soldier come home to his lady love, if she was taller than him! He sat up straighter in the saddle, willing himself to compensate for any missing height in the ride from this point to Austria's home.
A pang of stiffness attacked his lower back as he sat straighter. Sadly, the wars had taken their toll on him. He had several scars over his body now; he had been proud of the scar from his right shoulder blade to his left hip—he'd earned it in one of the most decisive battles of the war, but now it's presence worried him. He also had another one from his elbow to mid arm on his right arm. God, she was going to hate everything about him. He grew steadily paler and paler considering all the possibilities.
Wait, why would she see him without all of his clothes?
His face grew redder as the impure thoughts flooded his mind unbidden. What if she'd filled out while he was gone? He imagined a long haired girl with gentle curves, no, perhaps a short haired girl with full hips, no, perhaps the short hair and the delicate figure of a girl before she bloomed, almost boyish, fearfully looking at his weather beaten, war ravaged body. Perhaps she would-the boy shook his head ferociously.
Enough of all this thinking, he didn't care anymore, none of it mattered.
'I just want to be with her, no matter what,' was his thought as the gate to the Austrian's home came into view.
Italy sits with his legs dangling from the wall around Austria's house. He'd sat there waiting for four days from before sunrise to well after the moon ascended in the sky. He'd heard that the war Holy Rome had been fighting was over. Since that point, he'd sat and waited for Holy Rome to return home. He'd promised, and Italy knew he would keep his promise.
He kicks his legs humming a wordless tune as he waited. He couldn't wait to hear all the stories Holy Rome would have, couldn't wait to bathe in the lake again, and collect flowers. Italy then worries for a moment; maybe Holy Rome was now too old for these things. He had gone to war and done brave deeds and maybe he had no time to do such childish things.
Italy hoped this wasn't the case.
He smooths his dress over his knees, and as he looks out over the distance, he saw horses with men in armor. He quickly stands on the wall and began waving his arms enthusiastically.
"Hello! Please excuse me for bothering you! My name is Italy, and I have a question I really must ask you, forgive me for being so loud and yelling, I know you are far away, but please, please tell me are you Holy Rome's army? Is he with you? He's a boy, probably my age, but he might look older than me, but probably not younger—anyway, sirs, please is there a blonde boy with blue eyes with you?"
From the fold of men, one horse, a mare, comes dashing toward Italy. He is unable to see the rider, but can see that the horse is coming at full velocity. Italy places a hand over his chest, it can't be.
"Italy! Italy! It's me! Italy!" A voice Italy has never heard before is yelling his name, but that cadence, that enunciation can only be—
"Holy Rome? Is that you?" He yells in return, not nearly as loudly as he wanted, the tears forming in his eyes. He looks around quickly trying to find the fastest way from the wall. He sits and leaps from the wall landing on the ground, dirtying his dress as he knees meet the ground. He yells now, his voice chokes with sobs.
The rider pushes his horse harder towards the wall, leaving the army behind, breaking all rank and protocol. There is only one thing that mattered. As he draws close, he slows the horse, leaping from her, tumbling in the dirt, his white uniform now dusty, before rising quickly and running forward.
The two meet and in that moment there is nothing else in the world. They crashed at full speed into one another a tangle of arms around necks. Holy Rome was taller so he felt the crash of Italy into his chest as they met. He hugged the smaller boy tightly and eventually picked him up and spun him around happily yelling his name. Italy giggled in delight and clung to his neck crying and laughing all at the same time.
Soon Holy Rome puts Italy down and holds the brunette at arms length, holding his hands. By the time they have finished jumping, laughing and yelling, the rest of the army had caught up to them. Several soldiers whistle and cat-call at the young couple. Holy Rome quickly blushes, standing at attention, fully hiding Italy behind him, as his commanding officer approached him. The man is old and stern but not without a heart.
He clears his throat roughly then spoke, "Young man, I know that you are young, but please, let's get into the city properly before we disband and...enjoy our time at home."
Holy Rome bows stiffly, "Of course sir, I beg your pardon. I just-"
"No excuse is necessary. Just get back in the ranks now before everyone makes a mad dash to the wives they haven't seen in ages."
"Yes sir," the young dirty-faced blonde whistles sharply and his mare returns. He quickly climbs on the horse then helps Italy on. The soldier feels his love wrap slender arms around him. His heart soars as he rides towards Austria's house. Italy leans against the taller boy, hearing his heart beat through his back. For once in his life, he has nothing to say.
"Italy," he breathes not looking back, "I have to go, but please, please wait for me just a little longer. "
Italy squeezes the blonde tightly burying the tear stained face into the uniform. It smelled of sweat, and sun, and him. " Please, hurry. Ms. Hungary, and I will cook something good for you." Italy quickly hops off of the horse.
"I'll be waiting," he beams up at Holy Rome.
The ranks are full of sweaty, smelly, slovenly, exhausted men. Many of them haven't seen this part of Europe in years; others have decided that traveling here with friends might be a good way to start a new life. They had heard that the land was beautiful and the women even more were gathered in the square near the fountain in the middle of town awaiting the commanding officer. As the men awaited official instructions to disband Holy Rome could only readjust straps on his saddle and check contents of bags. He was anxious to ride back to Mr. Austria's house as soon as possible and really talk with Italy. As he is waiting, a heavy hand slaps him with full force on the back.
"You made a real show out there!" His brother grinned wolfishly down at him, crimson eyes gleaming in the sun
"Oh, I don't know...I didn't do anything," Holy Rome mumbled, blushing lightly.
"Breaking rank? Riding full kilter into the arms of a girl? Sweeping her right off her feet? All that was left was for you to put your tongue down her throat! But you have no idea how to do that right? Or has my brother been practicing while we were out there? " Prussia's goading hit a sore spot for Holy Rome.
"Brother, please don't talk about her that way! It's, " he was at a loss for words that would clearly explain, "unacceptable."
His white haired brother laughs raucously and ruffles his brother's hair roughly. "All right, whatever. Just wanted to let you know that I'm going with you tonight."
"Wait, what?" Holy Rome looked up at his older brother, dumbfounded. Thiscould not be allowed to happen. This will ruin everything. His brother had a long-standing history with both Mr. Austria and Ms. Hungry. The idea of them all sitting around a table will inevitably lead to a disaster, but before the younger could protest, the commanding officer ascends to the fountain, officially dismissing the ranks.
"Great! Let's get the hell out of here!" Prussia yelled, running for his horse.
Author's Note: I desperately wanted this to be a one shot, but it just would not happen. I think it will be a piece in three parts. So...just a long one shot :)
This one is specifically for Repeated Dejavu. Her prompt and her request :) I'm so sorry it took so long, but I keep hitting mental blocks because of my job.
Read over by Lou-so understanding with my shifting tenses. She pointed out all my tense shifts and I corrected many, but some remained because of my own stubbornness that it sounded better. In my mind she chastises me like Arthur would Aflred.
Well I hope you enjoy it.