AN: Songfic for a song we're doing in choir~ Please enjoy~ ^^
Summary: While cleaning China finds an old lullaby he wrote. What will happen when he begins to sing it? Songfic, no pairing, rated K.
Song: ?v=1Bd8HRGmI90243 (Take out the spaces)
Maybe it was to keep the memories safe.
The ancient paper had folded carefully, as if to keep it from wrinkling, or tearing. It had been packed away with great care, gently stacked in between countless others, none so important or valuable as this one. At least it was valuable to the one who had uncovered it.
Inscribed on it were words, words linked to memories, words tangled with and threading through time.
China felt the memories rushing back at him and begin to sing the lullaby, the song he'd written so many years ago. The words carried him away from the musty, dark, storage room, into times long past.
In the morning when you rise, I bless the sun, I bless the skies, I bless your lips, I bless your eyes, my blessing goes with you.
Bathed in the sunrise's golden light, the sweet faces of the sleeping children were all the more wonderful to China. Japan, Korea, Hong Kong, Taiwan. His beloved younger siblings.
Sitting in the open doorway, he turned away for a moment to appreciate the dawn. The great, fiery sun rose above the far stretching lake, in a sky splashed with pink, slashed with orange, and soaked with gold. At the very edges, the morning was tinged with dark blue, the last fragments left of the night.
A second sky was visible in the lake, through a vivid reflection. The glowing water was died orange, pink and gold with light, like some sort of magical elixir.
Dew drops shimmered on grass, like tiny stars, lit up inside by the morning light.
Time stood still for a long moment.
Nothing but light, color, shimmering water, sparkling dewdrops, and silence.
Then a child awoke, and padded over to the man, who was locked in the embrace of the warmth and light of the beautiful morning.
Slowly he became aware of the four young ones standing next to him, two on either side.
Smiling, he gathered them under his arms, pulling them into towards himself and gently pushed them to a sitting position.
He leaned out to kiss to each head tenderly.
Then, snuggled together, they watched the sunrise together.
In the night-time when you sleep, oh I bless you while a watch I keep, as you lie in slumber deep my blessing goes with you.
He was so different asleep; no longer bouncing off the walls, full of energy, hyper and exceptionally mischievous.
Instead he was still, his face peaceful, vaguely happy. One was reminded of just how small his body was, how adorable and sweet he could look.
China, sitting next to the bed, brushed hair away from the tiny nation's eyes. It was, as always, tangled. Shaking his head the older country gently finger-combed it, removing the knots and snarls left after a long day.
As he ran his fingers the black hair, China gazed out the window at the sliver of a moon and the beautiful stars. They cast the pale light that filled the room, illuminating the sleeping boy's face.
Finished with his task, he let his hand slide down to Korea's tiny hand. China carefully grasped it feeling the tiny fingers between his own.
A moment later he felt the little hand squeezing back. Surprised, he glanced at the other's face, but it was still peaceful, his breathing was still even.
Smiling softly, he squeezed back, to say he was still there, watching over the younger.
This is my prayer for you, there for you, ever true. Each every day for you, in everything you do, and when you come to me and hold me close to you, bless you, and you bless me too.
The full moon shone down on the pair sitting by the lake, enjoying the cool, clear night.
They spoke quietly, China softly suggesting things to assist Hong Kong in his endeavor, offering the wisdom that can be found in one older than you are.
Hong Kong, nodded and thanked the older nation, hoping that on the morrow he would be successful.
In thanks, he wrapped his arms around his older brother, in a sort of sideways hug. China returned it with a smile and a kiss to the top of the head.
And so they sat, comfortable together, in the quiet night, lake lapping softly at the shore, breeze ruffling their hair.
Content to sit and listen to the silence together.
When your weary heart is tired, if the world should leave you uninspired, when nothing more of love's desired, my blessing goes with you.
In a spot, a spot that was beautiful and quiet, next to a small inlet of a large lake, a child painted.
The late afternoon light caught everything, glowing and shimmering.
Surrounded by greenery that was dotted by small pink, orange, yellow and purple flowers and with the calm, gold-lit lake the spot was a sort of paradise, quiet and lovely.
But no matter how Taiwan tried, she could not get just the right color or brush stroke. She turned away, frustrated.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to see her concerned older brother, asking what was wrong. She pointed to the painting and showed him how she just couldn't get it right.
So he carefully took her hand in his, and guided the brush over the canvas, helping her to see what she needed to do.
Grinning happily, she saw how to finish her masterpiece, thanked China, and quickly continued to paint. Chuckling, China told her he was looking forward to the finished paining, and then left her to it.
Later that night, returning to his room, exhausted after wrestling all of his siblings to bed, he was surprised to see a painting leaning against his wall. Upon closer inspection, the nation found it to be the painting Taiwan had been working on this afternoon.
He found a note next to it that read, 'Thank you being the best Big Brother.'
Touched, he exited his room through the still open doorway and padded down the hallway, slipping into Taiwan's room. She slept peacefully, a tiny, satisfied smile on her face.
Kneeling down by her, he lowered his lips to her forehead and murmured, 'Thank you.'
When the storms of life are strong, when you're wounded, when you don't belong, when you no longer hear my song my blessing goes with you.
A long night of worry and fear.
Wet cloths, cold water, herbs and medicines.
Glancing back at Japan in worry, China had to practically force himself to leave the child's side.
Just a short walk to the lake, to get water. He told himself.
The others had crashed a few hours ago, exhausted from staying up to wait for Japan's recovery, so he couldn't send one of them.
He murmured to the sick child, 'Wait just a few minutes, I'll be right back.' Then he was gone, out into the dim predawn light.
Upon his return, a broad grin broke out on his face. Japan's breathing was easy, his face no longer flushed.
His fever had broken.
Setting down the water, he walked over to the young, sleeping nation and leaned down to kiss his forehead. Then, retrieving the water, he gently wiped down the little one's face, and poured a bit of water down Japan's throat. Finally, China pulled up the rumpled bedding, straightened the other's clothes, and brushed his younger brother's hair form his forehead.
He turned for a moment to admire the beautiful sunrise, bringing a new morning, bringing new hope.
Then he once again kissed Japan on the forehead, saying, 'Sleep well.'
This is my prayer for you, there for you, ever true, each every day for you in everything you do, and when you come to me and hold me close to you, I bless and you bless me too.
As the song came to an end, four faces were flashing through China's mind. Japan's, Korea's, Taiwan's, Hong Kong's. Their voices somehow found his ears, their touch his body.
His beloved younger siblings.
The memories were strong, and beautiful, perhaps from being locked away in a deep part of his heart for so long.
Tears streamed down his face, somehow happy and sad at the same time.
He still loved them so much; they had been the lights of his life, the treasures of his heart.
Flooded with wonderful memories, he sang the last line of the sing.
I bless you, and you bless me too.
AN: This is in no way, shape or form, historically accurate.
And yes, I do know that Thailand and Vietnam are considered by some to have been raised by China, but there are only so many verses in this song.
Speaking of the song, no, China did not write it.
Words and music are by Brendan Graham and David Downes.
The version I used was arranged by John Purifoy.
It was first recorded by Celtic Woman.
I do not own Hetalia, Korea, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan or Japan. They belong to Hima-Papa.
Words: 1,414 not counting AN
Pages: A bit more than 4 ½ in MS Word
Time: 2-3 Hours? I have no idea. ID
Thanks for reading, please review!