Historical Notes (for the beginning):
-The setting of this fic takes place in the beginning of 18th century Spain, shortly before the War of Spanish Succession which breaks out to due to the threat of the Spanish and French crowns uniting after Spain's ruler died without an heir.
-During the 16th and 17th centuries the Spanish kingdom was involved in countless wars and conquests (Justifying any dark, cold behavior that could result in Spain's Hetalia personification)
.
.
.
.
.
27 November 1700
His body hit the ground with hard impact. Romano felt the aching jab of every rock, pebble, grain that he fell on, but it was nothing compared to the way those harsh words spoke to him. Their ferocity hurt, but it was the voice they were carried by that pained him worse than any blow.
"De VERAS? Dios mio Romano- No! I told you a million times already to keep an eye out for your surroundings!"
It was like a whip. And Romano didn't know how much more he could take. Rarely had the young Italian ever seen him so frustrated, and he CERTAINLY didn't remember ever getting such spite from the man, the one now eyeing him down with that narrowed, disapproving stare. The Kingdom of Spain crossed his arms at the image of his charge sprawled on the floor, clearly not tolerating his blunder, appearing not to care at all about his welfare.
For the last couple of hours the young Italian had been slaving over in training hard with the sword, a skill Spain had suddenly demanded he learn about three weeks ago. But really, Romano wouldn't call it training. Lots of yelling, little patience, and no mercy? Rather it was torture.
Yet for once Romano didn't speak up. Something... something intimidating came over Spain during those hours. His eyes lost their kindness, his presence its comfort. He was a stranger who had done away with the man he'd known for so long.
"Why? We've been doing this for a long time now so I just don't unders..." The remaining words we sucked into a sharp, exasperated inhalation. Spain was about to begin another bout of reprimanding when instead he paused, giving a displeased mutter while eyeing the sword that landed ways off after Romano tripped. "Surely your brother would have learned this by now."
Snap.
The restraint in Romano's body broke, devoured by a searing fury that was quick to take its place. The sentiment pulled at every inch of his form and scorched his lungs from the pressurized air of silence. Suddenly no amount of intimation could prevent weeks of fueled fire.
"Y-You BASTARD!"
There was nearly an echo. Spain promptly froze, not having anticipated this.
"Who the fuck are you to mention my brother when you don't know him like I do!? When he isn't here suffering through this living HELL like I AM!" His voice pitched up sharply, making both Spain and Romano recoil though the Italian didn't stop for long. "And honestly I'm glad Veneziano isn't here for this shit! He doesn't deserve it!"
Spain went to intervene. "Stop this Romano! Complaining isn't going to get you anyw-"
"NO! You listen to me now!"
And for some reason Spain couldn't help but comply. Romano picked himself up while keeping complete eye contact. "You think I'm complaining!? More like protesting against this god-awful treatment you call training! You know you haven't even told me why I'm even wasting my time with this! I'm not going to need it anytime soon and if I ever DO I shouldn't have to put up with this. Not from YOU! Y-You're the last person I expected would treat me like this! Why are you doing this to me, Espagna!? Why!?"
Amber eyes burned with ire. Romano glared straight at the older nation who seemed both stunned and conflicted, but on top of everything remained silent. The Italian found himself growing uncomfortable with the lack of response. Yet before he could think of what to do next, he heard a whisper.
"...You're wrong."
What? WHAT!? Romano would have pounced, had there not been an inexplicable look of worry on Spain's face. The Spaniard continued, voice the softest it had been in weeks. "..I'm s- I... I-I should have told you sooner, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it."
Annoyed, Romano furrowed his eyebrows from Spain's ambiguity. He tried to keep his stern front and ignore the concern bubbling in the pit of his stomach. "Ugh. What the hell are you talking about, bastard?"
Spain exhaled shakily after a moment of hesitancy. He slowly stepped closer as if the smallest mistake would make Romano disappear. "Things have changed. They're not peaceful like they were before. Austria... Austria and some other nations don't like the decisions France and I have made about our countries, decisions that would make us stronger. Perdóname Romano, oh te lo pido por favor. I-I didn't want it to come to this but I have no other choice!"
Romano gasped as Spain fell to his knees and pulled him close, leaving Romano standing while Spain hugged his middle almost desperately. "...I-I'm going to war."
For a moment, nothing happened. Romano just felt those arms cling onto him like a lifeline. Then he felt himself going numb. "Y-... Spain.." He didn't know what to believe. War. WAR. Spain knew that was a serious thing right? Was he absolutely sure it had gotten to that point?
"They want to take so much from me, Roma. My order, my power, you... they'll most likely take you too.." Attempting to deny the reality of the situation was now futile. Spain would never dare say this without being sure. "B-But I won't let them. I'll fight them with everything I have. I'll fight like never before because I can't lose you, Romano. I can't. I'll do best to make sure they don't touch you, but in the case that I'm away and someone goes directly after you... I-I want you to be able to defend yourself."
… So that was it. Those weeks of brutal training hadn't just been a sudden cold change of heart in Spain. They were his desperate desire to make sure Romano would be okay, they had been a release for his anxiety, and as much as the Italian wanted to scream at him for being victimized in what was practically a purge he found he couldn't manage it. All this time he thought he was losing his loving caretaker, but the Spain he knew was still there underneath all his emotional conflict, always there looking after him.
"Y-You..."
Romano pried the arms from his body as gently as he could and knelt to the ground before Spain. He looked up at the other's bowed head was shocked to see a tear trailing down from one of his closed eyes. The sight bestowed upon Romano an aching sadness he'd never quite felt before, along with pangs of distress. What in the world should he possibly do? Could he even do anything, besides try to imagine what Spain was going through?
He felt so useless, but somehow he found himself speaking softly under the command of an unknown, compelling force. "..Dio mio, what an idiot. This isn't how you prepare someone for war. You're supposed to tell them first, obviously. Otherwise how do you know they'll do their best?"
Spain's breath hitched, and tearful eyes opened to behold Romano with a look that could only be described as a brew of awe and shame.
"Then again.. I shouldn't be surprised. This is you we're talking about, how typical."
It was a harmless jab, but it made Spain shut his eyes again from guilt. His demons found the perfect opportunity to swarm him. Such cruelty WAS typical of him, wasn't it? All those things he'd done in the New World, how his military there continued it that very moment, the inquisition... a-and now was he treating Romano the same way? The thought was spear to the stomach and he felt his throat constrict and burn.
"..To think you'd have learned by now."
The spear was twisted within him. 'Stop it Romano! No wait, sorry I J-Just stop please! You don't know what it's like to be a nation, to have to obey humans or make tragic mistakes and─'
The Spaniard sensed a light touch hovering by the side of his face.
"Spain... you should stop crying. Haven't you learned yet? Like you were saying earlier, we've been doing this for a long time now. It's true. Don't tell me this if you won't listen to it either."
Spain's heart tumbled. Romano's voice wasn't accusing. And when he lifted his gaze and faced the Italian he saw his features alit with wisdom. 'He's not talking about my past...'
A light smile came onto Romano's face. "This isn't the first time you'll have left me alone. We've been separated before and I've always been fine. I know I'm pretty important but don't go messing up in protecting me by getting upset now, even though I can take care of myself. Unless this means you realize you're old and know you need my help?"
With that a ragged sob escaped Spain and Romano was smothered his against his chest. It wasn't exactly comfortable seeing as Spain was wearing his armor from their practicing, and he still felt somewhat awkward in managing the situation, but the boy figured he'd done something right to get a reaction like this.
"I'm so sorry, y-you're right. You're entirely right. My Roma is so smart." He heard Spain laugh weakly over his shoulder. "I mean, I don't think I'm old, but we've done this before. We really have."
Romano let his gaze fall on the dull metal plates strapped to Spain's shoulders as the other composed himself. How bad could the war get? Would he really need to fight? Was he even strong enough to wear armor like Spain's? He felt himself curl into the body that embraced him and decided to let his thoughts drift elsewhere, like the fact Spain was still around. Who knows how long he'd be gone for this time…
"Will you still let me show you to use the sword..?"
Romano blinked, stiffening slightly from the unexpected question.
Spain pulled away and looked pleadingly at him. "I swear I promise it won't be like how I've been teaching! If you want I'll even get someone else to teach you but please, I'll feel so much better knowing you're learning something."
The Italian pondered it for a second before sighing. There really wasn't a way out of this. He diverted his gaze as he answered. "You're so needy. Fine, I'll do it, but only to prove that I'm capable. And since you're the one insisting I do this you better be the one that teaches me."
A sigh of relief left Spain's lips, and Romano could just feel the appreciation engulfing him. "Thank you. This honestly means a lot to me. I'll make you best fighter I possibly can."
When a warm hand reached out to him the boy's eyes trailed up the arm attached to it and saw Spain smiling gently at him. His emerald eyes were bloodshot and a bit puffy from moments ago, but for Romano it was without a doubt the best thing he'd seen in a long while. "We'll start training tomorrow, maybe even the day after. For now let's go relax."
Spain helped Romano up, and for the first time in weeks the two left the field together. Romano still feared, Spain still stressed, but things were different now.
Spain's eyes were kind and his presence was comfort. There were no strangers.
.
.
.
.
.
1701 – The War or Spanish Succession begins
.
.
.
.
.
1714 – The War of Spanish Succession Ends. On March 6 the Treaty of Rastatt decrees that the Spanish Empire renounces its Italian territories
.
.
.
.
.
1720 – Sicily, initially given to Savoy, is exchanged to Austria for Sardinia, a northern portion of Italy
.
.
.
.
.
1734 – The Spanish retake the Kingdoms of Naples and Sicily from Austria, much to the relief of Neapolitan nobles, and the rule was made official in 1737
Historical notes (for the end):
-Spain did not remain in peaceful control of Southern Italy from 1737 until the Italian Unification. Later on it also fought several wars back and forth with France to maintain control up to the subsequent unification
Translations:
(Spanish) "De VERAS?" - SERIOUSLY?
(Spanish) "Dios mio-" - My God/Oh my God
(Spanish) "Perdóname Romano, oh te lo pido por favor." - Forgive me Romano, oh I beg of you please.
(Italian) "Espagna" - Spain