Helfen, Wehren, Heilen

by Rosemary Baggins

First part of the Monochrome Series. The beginning of the journey. The little child saved by Italy grows and gains friends, family, a name and a purpose in life.

First part of the Monochrome series.

Warning: some language.

Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia.

No beta has seen it.

Historical notes on the bottom.

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Helfen, Wehren, Heilen

When the child was given to the Knights Hospitaller to be taken with them to the Holy Land it was barely alive. It was weak and frail, its skin sickly pale and its breath shallow. But it breathed and held on to that breath tenaciously, with no sign of ever wanting to give up. It astounded the knights and almost instantly made them feel for the tiny being, wondering if maybe it had a guardian angel looking after it, and a higher purpose in life. And as the knights who were ordered by the pope and chosen by Holy Rome himself to take care of this waning life developed feelings for the little one and swore to protect it seeing its brave perseverance and great will to live, the previously unwanted child became wanted.

It gained a family. It became a son to a father, a brother to a brother, a comrade to a comrade. It became a boy raised and cherished by the knights as their own, and he grew up fast to become a healthy, curious and lively little child bringing joy and headache to his multitude of parents and brothers as every child should do whilst growing up.

But life was never easy and as he grew older and older, he became painfully aware just how different he was from all the other people around him.

Firstly, and that one bothered him the least, he had no name. All the other people had one or even two names, but he was called in many different ways. The master of the order called him Son or 'that blasted kid' when he did something wrong, like carelessly letting the chickens loose. He was chasing them the whole evening afterwards, even skipping dinner in order to round them up, but he did catch them finally, leaving him dirty, tired and hungry. He was scolded and punished anyway and remembered feeling guilt and shame and just a tiny bit of fear as the master whipped his bottom so he couldn't sit properly for the next three days. But, he also remembered that after that the same master came to treat his sore skin and fed him warm soup staying with him throughout the night to make sure that he was alright.

The other members of the order called him different ways, too. Kid, Boy, Brother, Pipsqueak – that one he hated the most – but most commonly they just called him the Little Knight. He liked that name. It wasn't a proper one, but referring to him as a knight made him proud. Of course, some of the younger knights offered him different names, despite the master's disapproving glares, but he could never settle on one, not feeling them quite right. Besides, Little Knight suited him, and it did sound kind of awesome.

While his name or rather lack of it was strange, it was his unusual looks that people noticed first. Even amongst the variety of different people living in the town like moors, westerners who came during the crusades, and Arabs, his white skin and hair and his red eyes were easily recognizable. They called him a lot of things: angel, ghost, monster or white demon, but the people's reaction was always the same. They either feared and avoided him, trying to have as little contact as possible, or they tried to chase him away throwing rocks at him and calling him names.

It hurt. And not in a physical way because the rocks he could take, but the hatred and animosity people showed him, pained him more than he could understand why. Because the knights never showed him any hostility and when the townsfolk tried to hurt him, they were always there to protect and shield him.

Of course, as he grew a little bit older he understood people a bit more and learned to deal with it, and instinctively started avoiding crowded places and big gatherings, unless he was together with the knights.

And lastly there was his age. This one bothered him immensely. He was still young, but he did understand the concept of time passing and aging, especially as he witnessed the children he grew up with getting taller and older, changing in a lot of ways, becoming young adults. Yet, he remained the same.

Naturally, he did learn skills. He was a curious person wanting to know more and more. And the knights relished in his hunger for knowledge teaching him as much as they could and as the years passed, the Little Knight understood the world just like any other adult would, even excelling in some arts, becoming more knowledgeable than the majority of the townsfolk and some of the knights. But his body remained that of a six or seven years old, leaving him in a sort of limbo, where he couldn't decide himself if he was still just a child or an adult trapped in a child's body. He had mixed feelings and views about things, his behaviour and actions sometimes more akin to a youngster's than to a proper adult's and sometimes his age showed immediately despite his looks.

He remembered being confused and worried because of that. Even hating himself for truly being a demon just as the townsfolk called him. But then one day when the master learned about his qualms, he called him out and slapped in front of the whole order hard enough to break the skin on his lip, and forbade him to ever think about himself in such a way, for he was no demon, he was a gift from God.

He didn't understand it back then, but the pain he felt on his cheek was nothing compared to the pain he saw reflecting in his surrogate father's eyes, and he never hated himself again for being different.

But as time passed he couldn't help but feel that something was amiss. Deep inside him, he knew he was missing something, his existence needing a purpose or a reason, he couldn't quite describe it, but there was something he needed more than air to breathe or food to eat.

He tried to find it out. He read multitude of books and talked to his family of knights, the elders of the town, and even preachers of different affiliations, but despite his best efforts he couldn't figure it out. People either didn't know how to help him, or their lips remained sealed. And as life became more difficult and unfriendly, threatening with another war, he had less and less time to spare on his personal quest, his presence being needed in the order instead.

After losing Jerusalem to the Saracens life for the order became much more difficult. Although they were knights capable of fighting if needed to, they specialized in healing. Probably that was the only reason that they were allowed to remain in the outskirts of the town performing their duties as doctors and healers, seeing that the war brought a lot of casualties on both sides and the Saracens struggled to support their own people, let alone a whole town. But their work wasn't easy. Supplies were scarce and Saladin's men were strict and ruthless.

The Little Knight pulled the hood lower on his head to cover up his snow white locks. He hated going to the town on his own, but they needed some medicinal herbs from the market and the soldiers were less suspicious towards children than men. He didn't wore his signature clothing of the Knights Hospitaller today, rather dressing like the townsfolk, as to not draw too much attention. He didn't feel quite right in them, the garments were too big on his small frame, but they did cover up his white skin which burned easily on the sun and was a dead giveaway of his identity.

The day was unusually hot, the air dry and filled with dust as all the people were bustling around the market trying to haggle as much as it was possible seeing that the soldiers took the majority of the goods for themselves. Usually there was nothing much left, and even if there was something left on the stalls, it was ridiculously overpriced and low in quality.

The Little Knight wiped his forehead and took a couple of shaky breaths standing in the shades of a dirty building at the edge of the market square. It was too hot for him today and there were too many people outside. He didn't like the crowd, but right now it was helping him to blend in and move rather unnoticed so he supposed he should have been glad after all. He steeled himself, checking if the leather pouch containing the silver coins he got from the master for this 'mission' was securely strapped to his side one last time, and made a dash for the nearest stall offering some measly looking herbs.

There wasn't much to choose from and the quality was low, too. Half of the stuff looked like common weeds in the first place, and normally he would have carefully examined everything and pick the herbs he needed to, being a rather skilled herbalist himself, but time was precious and he didn't want to be found out by the soldiers. He just took everything as it was, paying the wrinkled and mean looking vendor and stumbled in the direction of the next stall avoiding being kicked and toppled over in the hustling crowd.

An hour later he had almost everything he came for and decided to call it a day and get back to the order as soon as possible. He shuffled out of the crowd, turning a corner at the edge of the square to enter a cooler looking dirty alley, when he felt a strange presence behind him. He stopped and looked around cautiously, pressing the little pouch with the leftover coins and herbs to his chest afraid of pickpockets. He couldn't see anyone, but the feeling was there, and the Little Knight trusted his instinct. Something or someone was there, observing him, and he didn't like it.

From the folds of his clothes he pulled out a small dagger, readying it in case someone attacked him and made a run for it. He was a rather skilled fighter, his child like body giving him a surprising advantage on a lot of occasions, as people usually didn't expect him to be able to handle any kind of weapon, but this wasn't the appropriate time for a fight. He didn't want to draw the attention of Saladin's men unnecessarily.

He turned the next corner, reaching a busier main road. He should be safe here for a while. It will be much easier to shake off the unwanted presence staying on the busy road. He continued running, zigzagging between people and skipping over goods and small animals to reach the next street taking him down straight to the gate of the town. He couldn't feel the presence anymore, but something was still amiss. He couldn't quite identify the feeling and it worried him. It was a sense of unease and foreboding, and when he stopped for a moment to look around and catch his breath the feeling attacked him full force.

Before he knew it, he was grabbed and dragged to a shady and dirty alley, hands gripping his arms and covering his mouth strong enough to restrain his movements but not enough to hurt. It was unusual but he didn't question it at the time kicking backwards as strong as he could and turning around using the momentum to stab his dagger forward with full force. His attacker was expecting it and instead of dropping to the ground surprised, bloodied and in a lot of pain, he grabbed the Little Knight's hand, twisting the dagger out of his grasp.

The Little Knight panicked for a moment but quickly got his act together and kicked the attacker in the shin. It was an underhanded move, but he didn't care in this situation. He wasn't wearing the uniform of the knights, he could fight the way it suited him.

The man cried out in pain and let go of his hand, giving the child an opportunity to get away. He didn't hesitate, grabbing his dagger from the ground and dashing towards the street when he heard the man shout after him:

"Wait, Brother, it's just me!"

The voice was familiar, and aside from the members of the order no one else called him like that.

He halted in his steps, turning around and taking a proper look at the man who was still bent over on the ground and cradling his hurting shin. His face was obstructed by a hood, but when that came off it revealed a handsome man with dusty blonde hair and warm, brown eyes. He had to be in his late thirties but his boyish features and his ridiculous grin plastered on his face made him look much younger and the Little Knight recognized him almost immediately.

"Heinrich!? Is that really you?"

"Of course! Rejoice, because the awesome me, has returned to the Holy Land!" the man exclaimed happily opening his arms for a hug which he never got.

The Little Knight felt a weight fall off of his chest. His attacker wasn't really an attacker, and he wasn't alone anymore either. Suddenly, the dusty and hostile town looked much friendlier to him.

"No hug?" the man asked lifting his arms a bit but he was promptly ignored.

Heinrich stood up finally, dusting off his traveling clothes and looked warmly at the white haired boy in front of him:

"You grew again," he said.

The Little Knight felt his cheeks turn pink. He loved to hear that he aged - even if it wasn't true -impatiently waiting for the time when he looked like a proper adult and not like a snotty brat.

"Liar. I'm exactly the same as I was when you left."

"No, I think you're a couple of inches taller," the man said, studying him with a contemplative look on his face. The boy didn't look too convinced. "I'm being serious!" Heinrich added sensing his friend's displeased gaze.

The Little Knight looked away embarrassed, pulling his hood lower to cover up his furious blush.

"Just shut up!"

Heinrich laughed out heartily and picked him up, cuddling him to his chest. The Little Knight spluttered and struggled, kicking and shouting obscenities at the man.

"What the blasted Hell are you doing!? Put me down this instant!"

The blonde man just grinned and squeezed him even harder.

"You're so adorable when you blush!"

"Fuck you!"

Silence.

The Little Knight didn't like swearing. Not because he felt it was indecent or rude, he honestly couldn't care less, but with his looks and his childish voice every swear word and curse seemed utterly ridiculous. No one took him seriously, and it made him incredibly angry. This time as well, he didn't want to swear but the word just slipped out, and just as he feared Heinrich burst out in tears laughing, his whole body shaking with glee.

"I hate you!" The embarrassment and hurt had to be obvious in his voice because Heinrich ruffled his hair lovingly and embraced him apologetically.

"No, you don't. Besides, I really missed you."

The words left him feeling warm and happy, and he hugged back, surprising himself as well.

Normally, no one could treat him like that. Not even the masters of the order whom he considered his fathers. His pride as a knight and his displeasure for being treated as a child despite his age was well-known to everyone in the order and if someone tried to manhandle him after all, even if it was in an affectionate way, the poor fool usually ended up with bruises and scratch marks for the next week.

But Heinrich was different. They grew up together. First, the Little Knight being older some years becoming the big brother to the orphan who was taken in by the order, then as the child grew, him becoming the older brother and protector to the white haired boy. They were inseparable, and their friendship remained strong even as Heinrich became an adult. It only became stronger and stronger, to the point where the Little Knight not only considered him as his best friend, but his true brother, despite not being related by blood. Not like the other members of the order weren't his family. He loved all of them, but Heinrich was special. He couldn't quite describe this feeling, it was a deep trust and gratefulness for always being there for him. Also, Heinrich was the only one who genuinely tried to help him to find out just who or what he was, and identify that feeling of loss that was slowly churning within his very being.

They left the shady alley, Heinrich still carrying him in his arms. He wanted to object at first, but this way they looked like father and son and hopefully it was a good enough cover for them to get out of the town quickly. He pulled his hood lower on his head and buried his face in the man's shoulder to cover his white skin and hair even more. It would be a shame to get found out at this point.

After a couple of minutes of walking on the busy street and avoiding the soldiers, Heinrich broke the silence:

"While I was traveling in Europe I found some distant relatives of mine…"

"Oh, really?"

"Guess, you can't say I'm an orphan anymore," he said smiling.

He seemed to be happy and for some reason it hurt. The Little Knight felt guilt. He should have been happy, too, but instead it felt like he was losing a brother. They were always together, having only each other and the order, and even if Heinrich had to travel far away, he always came back to him. But what if from now on things were going to change, and he will decide to stay with his newly found family in Europe? The white haired boy felt conflicted and worried.

"I'm happy for you," he said nevertheless, not wanting to destroy his friend's happiness.

But Heinrich seemed to read his mind because he squeezed the boy in his arms reassuringly and said:

"You know I'm not going to leave you, right? I promised to help you find out who you are and make you the biggest and most awesome knight ever!"

The Little Knight smiled at the words and the pain in his chest subsided.

"You're so goofy. It's me who looks like a child, but you behave like one."

Heinrich didn't say anything only chuckled lightly and they remained silent until they left the town and the gate was a safe distance behind them. From there on, the boy refused to be carried anymore so the blonde man put him down and they continued walking side by side.

"You know, I got some lead on you, too," Heinrich said suddenly, the mysterious smirk he wore making the boy excited and giddy.

"Really! Tell me, what do you know?"

"It's too early to tell you yet," he answered, but his smile was reassuring, just like the hand ruffling the boy's white locks. "Besides, I'm not sure myself either. But I have a plan."

"What plan?"

"I brought back some merchants with me from Lübeck and Bremen. They want to start a hospital in Acre. I'm planning to persuade the master to go with them," the man explained.

"Why?"

"Because to find out who you are, we need to go to Acre as well."

oOo

It took them two years. Two years of fighting, bloodshed and pain before Acre became finally theirs. And the fighting took place not only against the Saracens but amongst themselves as well.

The Little Knight felt out of place the whole time. Granted, the order was mainly in charge of the hospitals and taking care of the injured, but they had their fair share of fighting as well. It didn't really bothered him, but there was something in the air, some strange presence, actually multiple of them that he couldn't quite decipher. The diversity of people gathered here like English, French, Armenian and all the rest made his head spin. Usually it didn't bother him, Jerusalem being a melting pot of different cultures as well, but for some reason this time was different. But as the fighting ended and all the troops and their leaders started leaving the Holy Land, the strange feeling subsided leaving him somewhat empty and restless. It annoyed him. With or without the strange sensation he felt out of place and he didn't understand why and that lack of knowledge annoyed the hell out of him. Fortunately, or unfortunately – he wasn't sure – he didn't really have time to contemplate on this problem anyway, as his hands were full of work and the field hospital full of injured and sick people.

He was just about to wrap all of his things up after cleaning his medical instruments in a washbasin when Heinrich came to get him. He was wearing his ceremonial outfit and the boy wondered what was going on. The man looked tired and he had some still healing injuries himself, but his eyes were smiling as always. It never ceased to amaze the Little Knight just how could someone be so carefree but probably this quality was one of the many reasons why he liked the man so much in the first place.

Heinrich smiled at him as he stepped into the dimly lit and stuffy room where he was working before on one of his patients. To be honest, while the idea of sick and hurt people didn't make the boy happy, the fact that he could be useful in a situation like this, did. He lived almost half a human lifetime now, and learned everything what the knights could teach him, ha wasn't half bad when it came to medicine. But his strange looks made people wary and suspicious. Luckily during the hardest of times and in the heat of the battle no one cared where the help came from, and people finally got accustomed to him.

The boy was brought back from his musings when Heinrich ruffled his mop of white hair as he handed him a bundle of freshly washed and rather new looking clothes, which he recognised as the same ceremonial uniform the man was wearing. He looked up curiously.

"What's happening?"

"We are going to meet someone in the city."

"Who?"

"Not telling." Came the short and cheeky answer.

The Little Knight just pouted. He hated not knowing something. He was a curious person by nature but when people kept information from him on purpose it especially annoyed him.

"Just trust me on this," Heinrich said with a reassuring smile. "And make sure you wash up and look proper," he added. "I'll come and get you in an hour!"

There was nothing else to do than to follow the request. The white haired boy knew he was not going to get anything else out of the man. So he washed up, got dressed and even tried to do something about his unruly locks, without much success though. And just as Heinrich told him, he was back on time and ready to take him to the battered city of Acre.

To his surprise it wasn't only the two of them, the latest master of the order and a couple of other knights were going too, but he only realised that it was an official diplomatic visit when they reached the port and arrived at a fairly impressive building what was serving as the quarters for the new king.

The Little Knight felt intimidated. What was he even doing here? That was the very first time he was taken to meet so important people and he didn't know what to do.

As he was ushered through one great hall of the building to another by servants and soldiers, he didn't know where to look. Everything looked magnificent and he wondered how could this place survive the siege so well? Rich tapestries were hanging from the walls, the guards standing on the corridors and next to the doors were all dressed in their finest uniforms and all the ladies were wearing gold jewellery decorated with precious stones. He couldn't wait to see the throne room now, his curiosity peaking with every step he made.

But before they could reach the main hall, Heinrich grabbed his shoulder and led him down a smaller corridor away from the rest of the group. He wanted to protest, his head snapping towards the man to ask what was going on but he silenced him with a simple gesture.

They walked through dimly lit passageways and shaded cloisters where the temperature was cooler. They passed many doors and corridors, until the Little Knight completely lost his sense of direction. Finally, they arrived at an inner garden lush with exotic greenery and palm trees and a little fountain in the middle. There was no water in it, but the structure looked pretty and it created a rather calm scenery. They had to be really close to the sea, too, as the evening air was heavy with the scent of the salty water and he could hear the lazy swishing of the waves.

Everything was quiet and tranquil under the azurite coloured twilight sky glittering with stars like little diamonds. But the Little Knight felt awkward, that strange feeling what gripped his heart all this time intensifying as he got closer to the middle of the garden. And as he looked around once more, he realised that they were not alone anymore.

A woman was standing nearby the dried out fountain dressed in rich, dark blue silks. She was wearing gold jewellery and her wavy black hair was loosely covered with a scarf also in a darker shade of blue. It was impossible to tell her age. She wasn't young, but she wasn't old either, only a couple of soft wrinkles were gracing her sapphire coloured eyes which were deep with wisdom and history. Her posture radiated grace and authority and as the Little Knight looked straight into her eyes he suddenly felt weak and dizzy. He had to close his eyes and take a couple of deep breaths to calm his nerves. Fortunately, Heinrich was there to steady him with a strong hand on his shoulder. The man gave him a reassuring squeeze then turned to the woman standing in front of them.

"I really appreciate you agreeing to meet us, Princess."

The woman nodded and the Little Knight snapped his head towards her. A princess? Was she really a princess? She was dressed nicely and she seemed regal enough, but there was something in her aura, something the Little Knight couldn't quite describe that made him doubt her status as royalty.

"Is he the boy you were talking about?" she turned to Heinrich.

Her voice was deep and velvety and reminded the Little Knight of those stories he heard from sailors and travellers about sirens who lured the seamen to their demise with their beautiful, ethereal songs.

"Yes, it's him."

The woman turned her scrutinising gaze towards him. The Little Knight felt awkward under those sapphire eyes, as if she was dissecting him bit by bit. He looked away, not being able to keep her stare and he started fidgeting, every moment seeming like an eternity.

"So, what do you think?" came Heinrich's excited question.

She didn't answer the blond man and turned instead to the little boy:

"How are you called, child?"

The Little Knight looked up suddenly, his neck snapping with the motion. He felt stinging pain but ignored it.

"I have no name, but people call me the Little Knight," he answered as politely as possible, bowing his head lightly towards the woman.

"Do you like your name?"

The question confused him. Did he like his name? He wasn't sure. It was the best so far, it sounded – as Heinrich always told him - kind of awesome, but was it actually the name he desired? Probably not. He always imagined that when he heard his true name he would instantly knew it. Recognize it as his, and only his. But as time passed he started giving up on that dream, accepting the temporary name he was given. Besides, Heinrich was right about the name sounding nice.

"I guess, it's okay…" ha answered anyway, not entirely sure of his own feelings.

"You haven't found it yet." It wasn't a question, the princess said that with full confidence as if knowing his entire life. It annoyed him immensely. Just who was she anyway? "You're still young, you will find it sooner or later," she added confidently.

"I'm not a child." His voice was harsher than he intended it to be, but it couldn't be helped. He hated when people treated him as a child, and this woman's way of talking for some reason was exceptionally patronising. Although, she probably didn't mean it that way.

The princess smiled but didn't say anything and turned to Heinrich instead:

"You were right, he is one of our kind."

The blond man seemed ecstatic at the news leaving the white haired boy entirely confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're a nation!" Heinrich exclaimed with a huge grin.

"A what?"

It made no sense at all. He was a nation? What did that even mean? How was it even possible? He looked from one person to another, waiting for some kind of explanation.

The princess sat down at the edge of the fountain and motioned for the boy to join him who despite the encouraging gesture refused to move from his spot. She just sighed and fixed her long black hair trying to get her thoughts together.

"What do you feel when you look at me?"

The question wasn't entirely unexpected. He did feel something strange when he looked at her. The same unusual presence he could feel for the last two years or so now, during the siege of the city. The Little Knight always knew it meant something, something important at that, he just never could identify it. But despite his best efforts he struggled to describe the feeling.

"Like I know you, but I don't," he said trying to explain the best he could.

"It's because you recognise me as a nation, too." Came the short explanation.

The boy was confused.

"But, aren't you a princess?"

"That's how humans call me. I am the representative of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. I might look like a human but I am the personification of a nation and all its people."

She smiled and straightened herself, pearly white teeth almost glowing in the semi darkness, as her posture and aura filled with pride and power. The strength and beauty she radiated with that simple move could have not belonged to a human. Even if the Little Knight was reluctant to believe a tale such as this, something deep in his core told him that it was true. That this could have been the reason behind all the strange things that surrounded him.

"Am I like you, then?" he asked cautiously, his voice laced with disbelief and insecurity. Yet he was hopeful. That would explain so many things!

Jerusalem looked at him, her eyes hardening for a moment. The Little Knight was afraid that he might have offended her assuming that such a beautiful and dignified being like her could be on the same level as him. He instinctively took a step back as the woman stood up and came closer to kneel down in front of him so they were on eye level with each other. Ruby met sapphire, and the boy held his breath afraid to even move as he got lost in those orbs shining with age and wisdom. Then Jerusalem smiled and for the first time it was warm and kind, and when she ruffled the boy's white locks the fear gripping his heart instantly disappeared.

"You are not quite like I am," she said but there was no contempt or disgust in her voice. "You're wearing the uniform of the Knights Hospitaller, but you are not their representative. The fact that you haven't found your name yet is evidence enough."

The Little Knight's heart sunk, and he shamefully averted his gaze as frustration and sadness churned in his stomach. If he was not a nation then what was he? An outcast? A monster after all? His disappointment and worry had to show on his face as well because Jerusalem pulled his chin up and forced him to look at her mesmerising eyes yet again.

"You're still young, but you will find who you are," she said reassuringly. Her velvety voice seemed genuine and the Little Knight had no reason not to believe her, but he still felt worried and conflicted. He had so many questions, there were so many things he wanted to understand. His head was spinning and suddenly a wave of tiredness enveloped his body, leaving his limbs heavy and his mind hazy. "Seeing as you are just a fledgling nation living in my lands, it's my duty to become your parent and your mentor." Jerusalem stood up and reclaimed her seat at the edge of the fountain. "You are welcome to come and see me any time you wish and I'll teach you everything I know. But that's enough for tonight. You should take a rest."

He wanted to protest at first but Heinrich grabbed his arm and silenced him with a squeeze.

"We appreciate your help." The man bowed and the Little Knight followed his example and mumbled a quiet 'thank you' as well.

He was half aware of Jerusalem's voice as she said her goodbyes and barely noticed that Heinrich ushered him back to the now dark corridors illuminated by an occasional candle or torch. He only woke up from his trans-like state when the man's excited and smiling face entered his field of vision.

"Isn't that awesome? You're a nation!" he exclaimed happily hugging the dazed boy to his chest.

The Little Knight half-heartedly pushed him away, not entirely unhappy but still really confused.

"She said I'm not like her."

"Not yet!" the blond man corrected him. "But mark my words, I will make you the most awesome nation ever!"

The feeling that overcame him upon hearing these words was warm and hopeful, and deep in his heart the Little Knight knew that if anyone could pull this off, that would be his best friend. He looked up at the giddy man in front of him, brown orbs shining with the promise of a brighter future. He felt like smiling himself, and before he even noticed his mouth twisted upwards into a huge and happy grin.

"I will hold you to that."

oOo

The rich greenery of the gardens of the Lateran Palace was a sight to behold. The Little Knight have seen many gardens before in Jerusalem's house, full of palm trees and little shrubs and exotic flowers, but compared to the lush and lively wildlife here, over there everything seemed a bit listless and tired. The scenery was barer, filled with dust and sand and rocks, and despite having its own charm, the boy couldn't help to find it sort of boring compared to this overabundance of life nestled deep in the heart of Rome.

He was amazed of the different shades of green displayed by nature in front of his eyes. Tall and majestic pine and cedar trees were arching high above his head in a deep emerald colour. The jade and shamrock grass was fresh and soft, the shrubs which were cut to create an intricate pattern paraded in the shades of green ranging from the almost blue teal and turquoise through lime to the deep forest and sea green. Flowers he has never seen before blinded him with their fiery red and yellow and white colours under the bright sunlight.

It was hot, he could feel his sensitive white skin burning, but it wasn't that scorching, dusty and dry type of hot which left him breathless and tired and dirty with sweat. Here, the air was balsamic, rich with earthy, grassy and flowery scents he never experienced before, and loud with small buzzing insects, colourful butterflies and chirping birds.

The Little Knight was overwhelmed with all the noises, scents and colours leaving him in a daze standing at the entrance of the garden on one of the many porches of the grand palace. Everyone else was inside the room, Heinrich and the rest of his party accompanied by the clergy busy discussing the details of the upcoming ceremony. They didn't pay too much attention to him, so he decided to slip outside and admire the breath-taking sight. He also had an urge to kick his boots off and run through the lush grass with his bare feet but decided against it, deeming it inappropriate in the current situation. But his curiosity was peaked and he couldn't help himself wanting to explore the nearby area at least a little bit. He promised to be quick and quiet and not to go too far away either, but he desperately needed just a tiny peek.

He ran down the stairs connecting to the garden and plunged into the lush vegetation. A warm breeze caressed his cheek and ruffled the leaves as he wandered under the shades of the tall shrubs. It was nice and peaceful. It calmed his nerves, and right now it was something he needed desperately. After all, today was a special day.

After confirming his identity a few years ago, Heinrich made it his personal quest to lift him to the level of proper nations. He worked hard, both of them did, and their efforts finally came to fruition, as today marked the day when he was finally granted a papal audience. Today, after so many years of representing the papacy on the Holy Land serving under the name of the Knights Hospitaller, he would become his own man. The order was transforming, and he would be their representative, he would gain his own name. A real name. And he couldn't be happier.

He sighed deeply and heavily, enjoying this short break to calm his nerves. It was getting late, he needed to head back now before anyone noticed he left. He found a little stone path and rushed towards the palace relishing in the feeling of his hair being ruffled by the wind. It was warm and nice but as he neared the palace and got out of the shades of the many shrubs and bushes his peripheral vision caught on something white and bright reflecting in the strong sunlight.

He stopped as his curiosity took over him.

Just a peek would be enough. A small quick peek. He turned towards the bright spot and took a couple of steps closer, and what he saw made his stomach squeeze in excitement.

On the soft grass, dressed in a white tunic, there sat a small child, a boy, holding a heavy codex on his lap. But instead of reading it, the boy was using it as a drawing board, having a piece of parchment sitting atop of it and a bottle of ink next to him on the ground. The quill was effortlessly gliding on the sheet creating a scraping noise which mixed with the rustle of the leaves in an idyllic harmony. After taking a couple of more steps closer, the Little Knight also noticed the subject of the picture the boy was drawing; it being a small, yellow and extremely fluffy bird. There was only one word that could describe the tiny animal, and it was cute. And upon closer inspection, he had to admit, that the child was cute, too.

The boy was tiny, the white tunic looked big on him and its sleeves were rolled up as to not smear them with ink. He had warm, chestnut coloured hair with an unruly curl sticking out on the left side of his head. His skin had a healthy olive glow to it affirming a Mediterranean descent and his small hands handled the quill at such precision that it would shame any artist. Unfortunately the Little Knight couldn't see his eyes as the boy was fixing his gaze on the work in front of him.

As his curiosity drew him closer and closer he alerted the little bird which flew off above the child's and his head. The little boy turned, following the bird with his gaze, disappointment clearly visibly in his dark, honey-brown orbs at the loss of his subject, until he noticed the Little Knight.

His eyes reflected shock and maybe a tiny bit of fear but he soon composed himself, sighing with relief and smiling at his unexpected visitor gently.

The Little Knight was captivated by those warm, brown eyes. He couldn't tell his age. The boy looked young, really young even compared to him, - although, during the past few years he did grow a bit, his human age being around ten or eleven years old right now.

But despite the child's young looks the gut feeling in his stomach told him that the boy was no average human being. He was a nation, just like he was, thus his appearance could have been entirely misleading.

For a long time no one said anything, and the boy cocked his head to the side and studied him with a fondness in his pools of molten gold that the Little Knight couldn't decipher. He felt awkward. People never looked at him like that. Not even the members of the order whom he considered his family. The brunette's warm and open gaze was something he never experienced from strangers and it made him fidgety.

Finally, it was the child who broke the silence.

"You have grown up nicely." His voice was high and soft, rather feminine, but it suited to his tiny body and kind smile. He resembled an angel. One of those winged and plump angels with a bow and arrow what he saw once in a book brought by some scholars from Constantinople, who were staying at the order as guests for some time. Cupid, if he remembered the name correctly. Yes, the brunette looked exactly like one of those child angels, and for a moment the Little Knight wasn't sure if the boy in front of him was real or just his imagination. Or maybe he was sent by God himself. But as he collected his thoughts and the meaning of the words registered in his mind as well, confusion took over him again.

"Excuse me?"

"I haven't seen you here before. You are a new nation, aren't you?" The boy didn't seem to elaborate on his previous comment, changing the subject instead.

The Little Knight didn't know what to say. Technically, he wasn't a nation. Not yet, at least.

"Ehm… I mean…" He wanted to explain, but the words just didn't come. He shut his eyes in embarrassment and swore silently. Why was he so flustered? Talking never caused problems to him before. Or rather, it did but in an entirely different way as he usually couldn't keep his mouth shut. One of the masters even told him once, when he was still much younger, that his big and cheeky mouth would be his undoing. And now here he was, unable to utter a proper sentence because he was intimidated by a small boy who resembled an angel.

"The ceremony this afternoon… It's for you, isn't it?" It was a statement rather than a question but the Little Knight nodded anyway.

He wet his lips and finally gathered the courage to ask a question as well:

"Who are you?"

But the boy didn't pay attention to him as he excitedly grabbed his parchment and the heavy codex to drag it over to where the Little Knight was standing. The book landed on the grass with a thud and the child kneeled down next to it, opening the hard cover, and grabbed the white haired boy's hand invitingly to sit down next to him.

"I haven't finished my previous picture but I have many other ones!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, flipping over the pages to look for drawings which were tucked away for safekeeping inside the bulky volume. "Do you want to see them?"

The Little Knight wasn't really interested, but it was impossible to say no, and although he wasn't an expert on arts either, he had to admit, the kid had a talent. Intricate and detailed drawings of buildings, plants and animals were presented to him one by one with explanation of what was it he was seeing and how was it created. He only half-heartedly listened to the boy's enthusiastic chirping as he was too amazed just how those tiny hands could create something so beautiful. He admired the pictures in awe complementing the little nation when he looked up at him expectantly with huge honey-coloured eyes. The smile he received in exchange was melting him from the inside.

It was a warm, but strange feeling. He never met someone so naively open and passionate about something. Especially not in front of him. He was used to people avoiding him but this child was not only happily chatting away but was sharing something what seemed to be especially important to him. It was flattering and in a strange way intimate. Of course, the Little Knight didn't expect the brunette to hate him for being different, seeing that he was a nation too - despite not confirming it himself - but his eerie looks often scared people. And this child looked really young, even if it was a being like him. So, the unquestioning acceptance was a pleasant surprise.

"… and these are heliotropes. These are my favourites." The brunette pointed at one of his drawings depicting tiny star shaped flowers growing in a bunch. They looked pretty but there was nothing special about them, so the choice seemed a bit unusual.

"Why?"

"Because of their meaning."

Their meaning? Being a rather skilled herbalist himself, he did know that flowers had their own language and each plant had a different meaning, however he never really paid attention to it, being more interested in the practical uses of flowers and herbs. But this time the Little Knight looked at the boy intrigued. He wanted to know.

"What do they mean?"

The young nation looked at him mischievously:

"It's a secret."

Well, damn, this child was trying to play games with him!

He was excited.

As a rather competitive and curious person by nature he hated when he didn't know something. And by the impish look on the boy's face, this kid was openly challenging him. He was more than ready to accept it!

He didn't know what possessed him to grab the other, pin him to the ground and start to tickle. He didn't understand where this audacity came from. Usually he was never so bold and open and friendly with strangers, not even with children but for some reason this kid brought it out from him. Somewhere, deep in his mind he knew it was inappropriate behaviour but he couldn't stop, so he decided to let himself overpower by his inner child. He blamed the kid anyway, for infecting him with his carefree attitude and playfulness.

They rolled around the grass, the brown haired boy's tinkling laugh filled the air with joy. They only stopped when both of them were out of breath and laying on the ground spent and trying to calm their heartbeats.

"Are you feeling better now?" the little one asked turning towards him in the lush grass and still panting a bit. When he didn't answer and just looked at him all puzzled, the brunette added, "You seemed to be stressed before."

Oh.

Was it that obvious? Was he really that easy to read that even a small child like this could figure him out? And was all of this on purpose to make him feel better? He couldn't believe it! Just who was this kid?

He wanted to ask, he had so many question he wanted an answer for but before he could open his mouth a sudden rustling from a nearby bush alerted both of them, and a moment later a really old looking cardinal stepped out into the sunlight a few steps away from them.

He was almost bold but those few strands of hair he had on the sides of his head were whiter than the Little Knight's own. His skin was flabby and wrinkly and full of brighter and darker discolorations. His back was bent but despite that he carried himself with a certain grace only old age and wisdom gained from experience could provide. His appearance was not scary as such, but the way he looked at first at the boy, then at the Little Knight, finally his gaze skimmed over the codex and parchments a few feet away from them, made the white haired Knight shiver.

"Ah, we were looking for you all over the place," he turned to the child, his deep voice laced with exasperation.

The boy jumped up immediately, dusting his clothes down and hanging his head in embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry, I'll be right back." There was no happy tinkling to his voice and no playful twinkle in his eyes anymore, and the Little Knight felt his heart constrict.

The brunette just gathered all of his belongings and hurried away chancing an apologetic look towards the white haired boy.

The cardinal watched him go but didn't move himself and when the child was far away he turned to the Little Knight fixing his scrutinizing gaze on the other. It made the boy feel really awkward again.

"You have grown up rather nicely," the old man said after a short while. "Of course, we couldn't have known it back then."

Again this strange comment. Just what were they talking about? It seemed as if these people knew him, but he didn't remember meeting them before, and he certainly never left the Holy Land before this journey either. He looked up at the cardinal curiously.

"Excuse me, do we know each other?" His voice was timid, and he tried to be as polite as it was possible. He wanted to avoid angering the old man but he also really wanted to understand why was he so familiar towards him.

The cardinal cocked his head to the side and looked at him musingly.

"You should go back, too," he said ignoring the question completely and turned towards the palace, his red robe swishing in the soft breeze as he started to leave. The Little Knight wanted to stop him but before he could form a single syllable the old man halted looking over his shoulder and back at him, "Your order is looking for you as well. Don't keep them waiting. After all, it is a special day for all of you."

There was no arguing with that and the finality in the cardinal's tone made the Little Knight reconsider anything he wanted to say and do before. He felt disappointed and defeated but it couldn't be helped. He just stood up, dusted his clothes down and followed the man back to the palace.

oOo

It took them about half an hour on horseback to get from the Lateran Palace to the Basilica on the Vatican hill. The clergy has already left in their carriages, so they really had to hurry up but even so, the ride through the ancient city of Rome was breath-taking. The place was buzzing with life and there were so many things to see; the Little Knight didn't even know where to look. They passed next to the Colosseum which stood tall and proud, arch upon arch humbly reminding everyone of the glory of the old Empire. They crossed narrow streets humming with vendors, town folks and nosy onlookers. They crossed the Tiber where Hadrian's ancient mausoleum stood majestically arching over the right bank of the river. From there the path led straight to the Basilica.

The building was massive, although not lavishly decorated from the outside. Five grand doors led to the main body of the church from the atrium, which stood at the entrance of the building. The church itself seemed to be capable of housing three or four thousand worshipers, and it consisted of five aisles, a wide central nave and two smaller aisles to each side. The Little Knight was amazed just how huge and spacious the building was with its beautiful and tall marble columns. It had a gabled roof which was timbered on the interior and which stretched high above his head leaving him feeling small and insignificant.

Contrary to the outside, the inside of the Basilica was magnificently decorated with mosaics and it housed extraordinary treasures as it was filled with liturgical vessels, jewelled relics and richly decorated statues, tombs and intricate chandeliers and altars.

The boy never even imagined that such riches existed in this world. The place left him in veneration and admiration, and as their party reached the main altar where the members of the clergy were already waiting for them, he felt an unearthly calm envelope his whole being.

They had to kneel down in front of the pope who was performing the ceremony, which was long and rather boring but he got caught up in this reverie like state anyway, created by the chanting, liturgical texts and the general atmosphere.

His attention was brought back only at the end of the closing mass when from behind the pope a child dressed in the miniature version of the full papal regalia stepped forward.

The boy, because it couldn't have been a girl in this position, had his face painted white with chalk and his hair was entirely covered by a richly decorated and embroidered mitre. The white and gold clothes and head gear made him look like a little angel in this holy environment. For a moment another angel-like little child with chestnut coloured hair and an unruly curl flashed into the Little Knight's mind, but as this boy walked forward to stop in front of him and put his tiny hand atop of his head, and the Little Knight looked up and their gazes met, he had to realise that the two were the same.

His heart clenched agonisingly.

It were the warm, honey-coloured eyes that gave the boy away. This time there was no childish playfulness in them, but kindness and wisdom, and the white haired boy had to realise just how painfully wrong he was all this time. He closed his eyes and hung his head in embarrassment, his white skin turning pink despite the cool air inside the building.

The boy he met in the gardens of the Lateran Palace was no fledgling nation like he thought. The childish behaviour was all just an act, and he felt cheated and betrayed and extremely humiliated. His behaviour was unforgivable. Why did he even think that being so open and friendly with a stranger was appropriate? He was angry at himself for being such a fool, but as the boy, no, the personification of the Holy See put his hand under his chin to make him look up and smiled warmly at him, the Little Knight felt his anger dissipate.

"From today on, you shall be called the Ordo domus Sanctæ Mariæ Theutonicorum Hierosolymitanorum" the boy said, his sweet voice echoing in the grand hall.

The Little Knight's heart fluttered with excitement at his new name, forgetting all the unpleasant feelings he felt before almost instantly. Order of Brothers of the German House of Saint Mary in Jerusalem. The Teutonic Knights. It suited him. It felt right, and he drank the Holy See's every word hungrily, transfixed at how surreal and how good this feeling was.

"Take and hold Jerusalem for Christianity and defend the Holy Land against the Muslim Saracens. Help, defend and heal! These are your orders from the pope and the Holy See," the boy continued. "As from me, as a nation to nation, let me tell you this," he suddenly became quieter, his words only directed towards him this time. "Grow and evolve with your people, cherish and love them, as they are your children, and they shall cherish and love you, as you are their home and their parent."

The words shook him to the core. It seemed as the Holy See's soft voice washed away all of his impurities leaving him empty like a clean slate. Tabula rasa. Now, he could start anew, finally understanding just who and what he was; he gained a purpose in life. The path in front of him seemed straight and bright, and it filled him with hope and high expectations. It felt like a heavy burden falling off of his chest, or as if for the first time in his life he could finally breathe.

Before he could realise the ceremony was over, Holy See has left and their group was riding out of Rome in the late afternoon sun, heading for the nearest port where they would board a ship and sail back to Acre.

The Teutonic Knight wanted to stay for a bit longer, he really wanted to see the little boy again, and he knew that his fellow order members wanted to celebrate, but to his great disappointment their duties called them to the Holy Land, and they had no time to stay away for too long.

When they finally reached the port town, despite their tight schedule Heinrich still managed to organise some merriment. He decided to board the first ship in the morning so that left them the night to enjoy themselves in an inn with good food and drinks. It was a rather good idea seeing that all of them were tired after a long and eventful day. The Teutonic Knight felt exhausted physically and mentally and couldn't wait to catch a few hours of peaceful sleep. Although, it did not stop him from enjoying himself and being in the centre of everyone's attention and drinking and singing. It was only when the late hours of the night turned into the early hours of the morning that his mood dropped and weariness took over.

It was surprisingly quiet. The innkeeper fell asleep hours ago while keeping an eye on the rowdy bunch of knights, but at this point even the Teutonic Knight's fellow order members were passed out in different places and in highly uncomfortable positions. Some of them will surely have a hangover, too, and the young nation was expecting a rough day at the sea. As the soft snoring of his comrades filled the room and the gently crackling fire enveloped his tiny body in warmth, he felt drowsy and all of the day's memories and events flashed back in his mind.

He felt melancholy weighing down his whole being and he sighed heavily.

He should have been happy. No, he was happy. Just that, the more he thought about the Holy See the more his heart clenched and fluttered, bittersweet pain gripping at his little chest. He wanted to understand the boy. Why was he so different during the ceremony from that little child in the garden? Which one of them was the real one? Why did he even care about it that much? But despite his best efforts he couldn't explain it and couldn't understand it.

"Is everything okay, Brother?" The young nation looked up from the fire startled as Heinrich's deep voice interrupted his silent reverie. The man was standing in front of him with a questioning look on his face. During the past few years he aged a lot, silver lining his once gold hair and wrinkles gracing his ever-smiling face. He has changed, these past years being difficult for all of them, yet somehow he still remained the same and it soothed the Teutonic Knight's soul. No matter what, Heinrich is going to remain Heinrich. "You look bothered," the man added. "Is it because of that boy?"

How the hell did he know?

The shock had to be apparent on his face because Heinrich smiled knowingly as he sat down making himself comfortable on the warm animal skins in front of the fire.

"It's clearly written in your eyes," the man answered the silent question, "Besides, I heard from one of the cardinals that you were playing around in the gardens with little Holy See."

"I didn't know who he was," the Teutonic Knight said defensively, his features morphing into a cute pout. Heinrich just smiled but didn't comment on that.

For a while both of them sat in a comfortable silence which was disrupted only by the cracking fire.

"Are you bothered by him?" the blonde man asked finally.

The Teutonic Knight wasn't exactly sure if this was the correct word to describe his feeling. The chestnut haired boy didn't really bother him, rather, it was his own curiosity.

"I just want to know…" he trailed off, not entirely sure what he wanted to say and wanted to know. "He seemed to recognize me."

"Is he special to you?"

The boy couldn't tell. Of course, Holy See was special to him, to all of them, as he was the papacy's representative. Ultimately, he was the one who granted him, the Teutonic Knight, his status as a young nation. He might be small right now, and he might not have his own territories yet, but at least and finally, he had a name. And a good name at that. He liked it, and for that Holy See will always remain special for him and he will be eternally grateful. But was that tiny, childlike nation special for him in any other way as well? Maybe.

Heinrich hummed.

"It's going to bother you 'till you find an answer, right?" It was more of a statement than a question, and the Teutonic Knight felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The man knew him too well. "Oh well, I guess it can't be helped."

Heinrich closed his eyes and sighed, deep and tired, and that one gesture was enough to show just how much he has aged. "He is special for you." This time it was not a question, "And you must never forget how much you owe him."

The Teutonic Knight just rolled his eyes. Did Heinrich seriously think that he was so ignorant? Of course he was grateful! And he will be 'till his very last breath, but when he tried to voice that, the man cut him off saying that he didn't understand. It annoyed him because he did, really, but Heinrich just shook his head.

"What I'm about to tell you, is a secret passed down from one master to another," he started, his expression and tone taking on a serious note. "But, since from today I am officially the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, it's my decision whether to tell you this or not. And I think the time has come for you to know. But you have to promise to keep it a secret as well."

The white haired boy perked up, curiosity and something ominous coiling in his belly at these strange words. Just what was the man talking about? What secret was the order hiding from him?

He leaned forward nodding and silently encouraging his friend to continue.

"I'm not exactly sure about the details but it's thanks to the Holy See's mercy that you were given to the Order," Heinrich explained. "You were weak and small, no one believed that you could survive, but he believed in you and that's how you ended up with the Knights Hospitaller, who were the most suited to take care of you. At least, that's what I was told," the man finished, his words heavily weighing in the air.

The Teutonic Knight felt Heinrich's concerned look on him waiting and checking for his reaction but he didn't know what to do. He was too shocked for any kind of reaction.

He remembered his early days at the order, when he learned about families and parents and he remembered asking the first master, his first father about it, too. Just what was a family, where was his family? And the answer was always the same: the order is your family, and the master is your father. And at the beginning, when he still didn't understand the world that well yet, this answer satisfied him. Only years later when he already knew how normal townsfolk lived and how a family worked did he ask again. The master was reluctant to answer but after a lot of nagging he finally replied, saying that the boy was left on the doorstep of the order, abandoned by his family.

It hurt. The feeling of abandonment, the hatred he felt towards himself for being different and looking like a demon, for making his parents leave him… It was something he never wanted to experience. He was lucky that the Knights accepted him the way he was and he considered all of them his family, but from that day his bond with the order became even stronger and he decided never to question his origins again. But as time passed and he learned about his true identity, he realized that his first master's words weren't reflecting the truth, but being too busy and preoccupied with other matters he didn't have time to worry and care about that.

Up until now.

He didn't know if he was disappointed, angry or actually happy. He wasn't abandoned, rather he was saved because someone believed in him. And that made him happy, leaving with a feeling of warmth and gratitude he didn't know how to express. But the fact that this information was kept from him was annoying. Did the order not trust him? Why keep it a secret? It didn't make any sense, just how could this information be dangerous to anyone? But a promise was a promise and he intended to keep his promises.

However, the information still left a lot of questions, although, it did explain how that cardinal and Holy See were able to recognize him.

"What are you thinking now?" Heinrich asked suddenly, interrupting his restless thoughts.

The boy looked up, his gaze fixating on Heinrich's worried one. In the orange light of the dancing fire the wrinkles around his ever-smiling eyes became even deeper and the boy felt guilty for making his friend so troubled.

It wasn't the man's fault, he just obeyed the rules of the order and ultimately told what he knew anyway. And there was no way of changing the past now, although, he wished he could have thanked the Holy See properly. Now the urge he felt before to see the little chestnut haired boy turned even stronger; unfortunately there was nothing that could be done.

"I don't know what to think," he said finally. "If I knew it before, I could have thanked him properly." He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his tired eyes. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became. Damn! He behaved like such a little brat! "Ugh… I feel so stupid now," he finished without looking up.

"You shouldn't feel like that." Heinrich's voice sounded closer than anticipated and before the Teutonic Knight realised, the man's hand was on the top of his head, running through white locks smoothly. It was different from when the Holy See did the same during the ceremony. The boy's hands were tiny and fragile. They were warm and shyly caressing his hair but nothing compared to the heat radiating from Heinrich's large and calloused palm resting firmly atop of his crown massaging his scalp in soothing circles leaving him feeling warm and secure.

And probably that was the main difference. While he felt protected in the presence of his childhood friend, in the case of the little boy nation, it was him, the Teutonic Knight, who wanted to do the protecting. That feeling within his chest was worry and anxiousness, he wanted to know if that petite angel-like being was safe. Even if the honey-eyed boy was older and more experienced, he couldn't help but be worried.

"I don't know, what should I do now?" He felt lost and confused, his feelings betraying him as well, as he wasn't sure if he should be angry or happy or if it mattered at all.

"I don't think there is anything special you have to do," Heinrich told him encouragingly. "We are on the brink of the new century, the Order has changed and you gained a name. It's the perfect time for a new start-"

"I should have thanked him properly," the boy interrupted voicing his main concern again, but the man had a perfect answer for that, too.

"Do it by becoming the most awesome nation ever! Show him and the world that it was worth saving your life!"

His voice was full of hope and reassurance, giving way for his usual optimistic self again. Heinrich truly believed in him and wanted the best for his future, and the Teutonic Knight couldn't be more grateful for his support. And the man was – yet again – absolutely right. If he wanted to show the Holy See his appreciation he had to prove that saving him was not in vain. And what better way was there to do it than becoming the Papacy's faithful servant just like he was asked and ordered when given his new name?

"I will do everything in my might to serve and protect him," he said turning to Heinrich, determination flashing in red eyes.

The man smiled, worried features smoothing out into a peaceful and fond look.

"I'm sure you will," he said, "And I'll be there to help you for as long as you need me."

oOo

Death was something the Teutonic Knight became accustomed to over the years. Growing up in an order whose primary duties included healing and protecting the Holy Land resulted that he learned about death at a quite early age.

He remembered the first time when he saw a soul passing away. It was an accident really that he witnessed it, but he will probably remember it 'till the day he died himself, - if it was even possible for a nation to die.

He was just a child, even in human terms, but he helped out around the hospital operated by the knights by doing small tasks like cleaning and feeding the sick. One evening, when he went around lighting the candles, he heard an old man asking for water. He looked tired and his skin was all wrinkled and sickly pale and a shaggy white beard was covering half of his face. His breathing was heavy and wheezing so the boy obeyed fetching a small dish and bringing water for the poor man. He needed help to sit up and drink and as he took a sip, even in the orange light of the candle, the water turned visibly pink. Blood tainted the transparent liquid and the boy knew that it meant bad. He was just about to go and call for help when a weak hand grabbed his robe and held him back. The old man smiled at him, his eyes reflecting peace and calm as they fluttered closed.

"It's okay," the old man said, "It's time." He sighed, wheezing intensifying for a moment before stopping completely.

The hand holding his robe fell down.

It was over.

The boy didn't quite understand it but he knew something just ended. A life ended and it scared him. He already learned about life and death. He knew children were born and old people died, but he has never seen it happen before.

Back then, the Teutonic Knight didn't really have an idea as how to imagine death. But it certainly wasn't the way he expected it to be. It was silent and calm. If he wasn't there no one would have noticed it. The old man just closed his eyes and drifted away as if going into a deep sleep and as he looked at the slowly cooling body it seemed that nothing was wrong. The old man was just sleeping. And it scared him more than anything.

He didn't want to die unnoticed and alone. Falling asleep and never waking up again... It shocked him so much that he was scared to sleep and it took a lot of effort and explaining from his first master to calm him down. Master said it was all right, and the old man died peacefully and he shouldn't feel bad about that, but he couldn't help the ugly feeling coiling in his belly and making him worried and sad and scared. It took him years to understand that his master was right and death wasn't always something scary.

As years have passed he witnessed more and more deaths, and among them rather violent cases, too. One night a young man from the town was brought to the order. He got drunk, and ended up in an unnecessary fight and got stabbed. Everything was messy and covered in blood, the man was grunting in pain and coughing, spluttering red liquid all over the place. It was a rather gruesome sight, and he remembered feeling disgust and pity for the poor fellow but this time he wasn't scared at all. He should have felt bad for the guy but honestly, he had only himself to blame. The more he witnessed people dying the less it shook him.

His indifference was only stirred up again when he started practicing his medical skills and his first patient died while he tried to save their life. He didn't remember it too well, adrenaline and stress coursed through his body making his head foggy. The only thing he remembered was his fellow order member grabbing his shoulder and stopping his small and bloodied hands and saying that it was already too late. The stench of blood in the air and the slick and warm liquid tinting his hands red was something he could never forget and it took him long years to accept that sometimes, despite his best efforts, people died and there was nothing he could do.

But right now, in spite of having all this knowledge, in spite of being accustomed to death, in spite of knowing that this was going to happen sooner or later, he couldn't help the rage and frustration at his helplessness bubble up in his chest.

It happened eight years after they entered the thirteenth century and everything seemed to be going smoothly. The order was expanding, their name travelling to faraway lands, they were protecting the Holy Land just as they promised, and everything was going well.

Except that Heinrich wasn't a young man anymore.

With every passing day he became weaker and older and before the Teutonic Knight could even notice, his best friend became an old and wrinkled man with long white hair and beard. His ever-smiling eyes were his only feature that never changed, shining brightly with joy and pride. But even despite his progressed age the man tried to be as energetic and lively as ever, until one day an illness took over his body leaving him weak and bed ridden.

The Teutonic Knight took care of his friend day and night, not letting anyone else near the Grand Master, wanting to give him the best care he could provide. He worked tirelessly for days but Heinrich's fever just wouldn't go down. He was becoming desperate, searching through books, trying out different herbs, trying to remember everything he was ever taught just to save his friend's life.

His fellow order members tried to help him, stop him before he burned himself out, but he just barked angrily at them and chased them away and after a while no one dared to approach the irritated boy again. And then one night, what he feared the most happened.

He was changing the wet cloth on the old man's forehead when Heinrich woke up from his fever induced dream. He looked up at the boy, his once smiling eyes focusing on him with difficulties. It took him a moment to take in the surroundings and analyse the situation but when he recognised the white haired boy he smiled warmly, and extended his hand. The Teutonic Knight reached after it immediately, grabbing the thin appendage and squeezing it gently. Heinrich had no strength to reciprocate the gesture and it made the young nation worried.

"Hey, old friend, how are you?" He tried to smile to mask his fears, he didn't want to burden Heinrich but the man saw through him even in his weakened state.

"And how are you?" he asked instead answering the question.

The boy sighed exasperated.

"I'm just fine."

"Well then I'm just fine, too."

The Teutonic Knight dropped his head tiredly onto the bed. This old man was a real pain sometimes. Why couldn't he take things seriously? Although Heinrich was the Grand Master every so often he behaved like a kid, playing around and causing mischief. Of course, he could be serious and composed when he needed to, and the knights could always count on him, but sometimes he was really a total pain in the ass. Not that it really mattered, he loved him anyway.

"You're such a fool," the white haired boy said with voice muffled by the sheets.

Heinrich laughed out heartily. It wasn't one of those characteristic laughs of his where he had to hold his sides and tears of happiness gathered in his eyes, he was too weak for that, but it was still nice to hear him laugh.

A white head perked up, this time a genuine smile gracing the once worried features.

"I don't know who the real fool here is. The fool, or the one who takes care of the fool?" Heinrich's eyes were shining with joy as he said that, but just as quickly as it came, the happiness was gone giving place to worry. He tugged at the boy's hand urging him to lean closer. "You should really take a break, too. You were looking after me all this time," he said, tone turning serious suddenly.

"It's okay, I can take care of myself."

Heinrich didn't seem to be convinced.

"Can you now?" came the disbelieving and slightly mocking reply. "You're such a diligent boy… But I always liked that about you."

"And here I thought you liked me because I'm cute." The small nation retorted causing the old man to chuckle again.

"That, too." Heinrich nodded with fake seriousness.

It was nice to banter like that. It reminded the Teutonic Knight of the old times, when both of them were much younger, causing trouble to everyone around. If just for a moment, it helped the little nation to forget about the grim reality. His heart fluttered with just a tiny speck of hope. If the old man was well enough to have his sense of humour back there was a chance he could recover, even if it was just a tiny one. He really wanted that. He needed that.

He needed Heinrich in his life.

He remembered the time when his first master passed away. It was hard, too. He loved the man like his father, he considered all of his masters as his fathers, and therefore losing them was never easy. But he also understood that it was the children's duty to survive their parents and continue their work. But Heinrich was different. They grew up together and the Teutonic Knight could never see him as a father figure. He was so much more! The man was not only his childhood friend, his brother, his master, Heinrich was his pillar of strength. He was the one who stood next to him for the longest, who supported him through everything, who made him into a nation. Without the man he was lost. He couldn't lose him right now!

He was brought back from his dark thoughts when Heinrich tugged at his hand again weakly.

"Come closer boy, I want to see your face." He obeyed, leaning closer and pressing the man's palm to his cheek when he reached for his face. Thin and weak fingers skimmed through his features gently and the young nation felt his heart constrict painfully. "You have grown again."

The Teutonic Knight rolled his eyes and chuckled tiredly at the familiar words.

"You're such a fool, I haven't changed in years." Voice almost failing, his throat squeezed around silent sobs as he tried to hold them back. Why did it feel like Heinrich was saying goodbye?

"You have grown a lot and I'm proud of you," the man said with fondness. "I know you will do well in the future."

The boy just shook his head, desperation gripping at is heart. Heinrich really was saying his goodbyes! He didn't want that. He just couldn't let it happen! There had to be something he could do! He needed more time!

"Don't say things like that-" he started but Heinrich interrupted him.

"I just want you to be happy."

The Teutonic Knight gripped the man's hand a bit harder and rubbed his cheek lovingly into the cold palm.

"Then get better soon." He wanted to sound strong and commanding, urging his friend to take the request seriously but instead his voice sounded like a restrained pleading whimper.

"My time has come…"

"Please don't-!" the Teutonic Knight tried to cut him off, but Heinrich was unrelenting.

"…It's alright," he said and smiled up warmly at the young nation as his thumb caressed the boy's cheekbone. "I lived long, and I was able to see you become strong enough to manage on your own. Nothing makes me happier." His tone was calm and peaceful. He seemed to accept his inevitable demise and actually welcomed it with open arms.

The child nation couldn't understand it as he bit his quivering lip and blinked back tears. He felt helpless and frustrated. Was there really nothing he could do? He didn't want to let Heinrich go. He needed him!

"What am I going to do without you?" Red eyes were stinging and he couldn't hold back anymore. He never really cried before, not since he was just a babe and certainly not for this kind of reason. But right now he couldn't help it. So he buried his face in the sheets again, hiding his tears from the man he loved the most in this world. Heinrich's hand dropped gently on top of his head gliding through white locks smoothly. "I have no one else, only you…" The boy's trembling voice was muffled by the bedsheets.

Heinrich sighed and reached under the young nation's chin to lift his head up.

"You have the whole Order," the man said seriously, turning towards him tiredly, his eyes shining with authority only the Grand Master could possess. "You are our leader and our most precious treasure. Never forget that!" His extended hand holding the boy's chin trembled and the Teutonic Knight had to catch it before it fell down exhausted and weak. Heinrich closed his eyes and leaned back on his pillows heavily. "Besides, you are not alone," he said after a moment of silence. "Even if I die, you still have him. You should never forget about that boy. After all, you owe him everything you have."

For a moment chestnut coloured hair and a softly bobbing curl flashed in his mind. That little boy in the gardens of the Lateran Palace. The Holy See. Just for a second bittersweet nostalgia filled his heart but he shook his head banishing the feeling. He knew more than well how much he owed the boy, he didn't have to be reminded about that. But Heinrich was more important right now.

"But I owe it to you as well!" he protested wiping his tears with the sleeve of his robe. "If not for you then I-"

"If not for him I would have never met you!" the old man cut him off abruptly. His voice was strict and unforgiving, and the Teutonic Knight gasped in surprise at such a harsh tone. "Just like you, I owe my life to that boy, because thanks to him I was able to meet you." This time his voice was much softer. "His hands are small, not suited to wielding weapons, but he has a huge and kind heart, so you must protect him in my stead as well. Promise me you protect him!" The man grabbed at his clothes in a sudden outburst yanking him closer with a strength none of them thought he possessed anymore. His eyes fogged over, and the Teutonic Knight wasn't sure if his friend even knew where he was, seemingly losing his grasp on reality.

"Heinrich!"

"Please, promise me!" the man pleaded again. His fingers slowly lost their sudden strength and the material held in his hand started slipping from his grip letting the boy free.

But the young nation didn't move, searching the old man's features, waiting for the fogged over eyes to clear. When it finally happened and Heinrich fell back to the bed with a dull thump, the boy sighed heavily.

"You have to promise me." The man's voice was much calmer and much clearer as he repeated his request again, and the boy couldn't help but nod. It was Heinrich's last wish. No matter how much he tried to deny the truth, he knew he was losing his friend forever.

He wanted to scream, to cry loud and shameless, he wanted to demolish the room in his frustrated rage, to shake the man and shout in his face to get a grip and stay with him, but he was too tired and too exhausted. Besides, no matter what he did, there was no way to stop this from happening. Heinrich accepted his death, thus the boy had to respect his wish and do the same. So he just nodded, defeated and broken, trying to swallow the lump in his throat which made breathing difficult.

"You said… you're going to stay with me as long as I need you…" he tried one last time, his quivering voice hitching on some of the words. "That you're going to make me the most awesome nation."

Heinrich looked at the child, smiling warmly. His tired eyes were peaceful and filled with tender fondness and the boy felt his heart shatter into tiny pieces at the sight, letting his tears flow down openly on his snow-white cheeks.

"What are you talking about? You're already the most awesome nation ever…" the old man's eyes closed and his shallow ragged breathing evened out one last time before fading away completely.

And just like that, Heinrich Walpot von Bassenheim, the first Grand Master of the Teutonic Order was gone. Silently and peacefully as if drifting away into a deep sleep.

~Fin~

Historical Notes:

Helfen, Wehren, Heilen - The motto of the Teutonic Order - Help, Defend, Heal

Knights Hospitaller (A.D. 1143) - In 1143 Pope Celestine II ordered the Knights Hospitaller to take over management of a German hospital in Jerusalem, which accommodated the countless German pilgrims and crusaders who could neither speak the local language nor Latin. Although formally an institution of the Hospitallers, the pope commanded that the prior and the brothers of the domus Theutonicorum (house of the Germans) should always be Germans themselves, so a tradition of a German-led religious institution could develop during the 12th century in the Kingdom of Jerusalem. (Wiki)

The Kingdom of Jerusalem: was a crusader state established in the Southern Levant in 1099 after the First Crusade. The kingdom lasted nearly two hundred years, from 1099 until 1291 when the last remaining possession, Acre, was destroyed by the Mamluks, but its history is divided into two distinct periods. The sometimes so-called First Kingdom of Jerusalem lasted from 1099 to 1187, when it was almost entirely overrun by Saladin. After the subsequent Third Crusade, the kingdom was re-established in Acre in 1192, and lasted until that city's destruction in 1291. This second kingdom is sometimes called the Second Kingdom of Jerusalem or the Kingdom of Acre, after its new capital. (Wiki)

The connection between the Teutonic order and the Kingdom of Jerusalem: After the loss of Jerusalem in 1187, some merchants from Lübeck and Bremen took up the idea and founded a field hospital for the duration of the Siege of Acre in 1190, which became the nucleus of the order; Celestine III recognized it in 1192 by granting the monks Augustinian Rule. However, it was transformed into a military order in 1198 and the head of the order became known as the Grand Master (magister hospitalis). It received papal orders for crusades to take and hold Jerusalem for Christianity and defend the Holy Land against the Muslim Saracens. (Wiki)

Heinrich Walpot von Bassenheim: also known as Henry Walpot (died 1200). Some sources suggest that he became the leader of the early Brotherhood in 1196, and date his death around 1208. He was the first Grand Master of the Teutonic Knights, serving from 1198 to 1200. As little is known about him, information regarding the Grand Master is mostly based on historians' theories. Walpot hailed from a rich family from Mainz. He was in favour of turning the organization into a military order. In 1199 he received a copy of monastery rules from Gilbert Horal, the Grand Master of the Knights Templars, and on behalf of Pope Innocent III. It was based on the rules of the Templars. Walpot died and was buried in Acre ( )

The early life of Heinrich was changed to suit my story. Writer's freedom.

Old St. Peter's Basilica: was the building that stood, from the 4th to 16th centuries on the spot where the new St. Peter's Basilica stands today in Vatican City. Construction of the basilica, built over the historical site of the Circus of Nero, began during the reign of Emperor Constantine I. The name "old St. Peter's Basilica" has been used since the construction of the current basilica to distinguish the two buildings. By the 15th century the church was falling into ruin. Pope Julius II had every intention of preserving the old building, but his attention soon turned toward tearing it down and building a new structure. (Wiki)

All the historical data is gathered mainly from the Wikipedia. Might not be the most reliable of source, but this is just a fanfiction. Thanks for reading through all of this!