WARNING: THIS CONTAINS BOY X BOY! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE, THEN DO NOT READ THIS STORY!
Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya
Centuries ago, there lived a wealthy kingdom in the east ruled by a king. The king was known as a strict man, believing that rules, etiquette, and justice were top priority. However, his beliefs did not stop him from being a good and kind father. He had three sons, who all had different mothers. Even so, they were very similar in appearance and loved and respected each other. And while the older siblings were tough and brave, the youngest was soft and passive. He did not like to fight or argue, and spoke with a softer voice than his brothers. He had muscle, but bordered more on slim. Noticing this, the king tried all he could to toughen his youngest son, so that he could help govern his kingdom and fight in wars. But it ended up being a lot harder than he'd thought, because he, as well as his older sons, could not help but pamper their smallest and delicate family member.
"Your Highness, it is time to wake up."
The young prince slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight invading his lush chambers, momentarily blinding him. He sat up in his bed and stretched, the silk sheets pooling around his narrow waist. As he rose, servants had already begun to decorate him in garments. The prince stood and stared blankly at the wall as they dressed him, feeling the silk cloth wrap around his hips, and the weight of the gold ornaments rest on his shoulders, neck, and head. They weren't his usual attendants. They must have been busy with something else. He said his good mornings politely as they prepared him, engaging in a bit of small talk. Not like they talked much anyway. The servants stepped back, allowing him to exit his chambers, their heads low.
The prince walked down the maze of hallways with ease, making his way to his family who sat waiting for him outside in front of a large pond secluded by trees and decorated walls. He would always meet them there after his father came back from a long trip. They seemed to be conversing about something, however immediately stopped as soon as the youngest sibling came into earshot. They were probably talking about their plans to conquer a rival kingdom.
His two older brothers sat on a cushioned mat in front of their father, who sat on a detailed chair under a parasol, hiding him from the sun. The prince bowed his head to his brothers, and walked in front of his father, kneeling and grasping his father's hand gently, resting his head on it as a sign of respect. The king softly laid his hand on his son's head, smiling gently.
"Welcome home, Father." Said the young prince as he sat himself beside his elder brothers.
"Have you been improving your skills while I was away, my sons?" asked the king.
The second oldest son was the first to speak. "Remember the last time I fought Raden, Father? Well, I finally defeated him!" he boasted.
"I tripped on a root! It wasn't fair play!" Raden, the oldest brother retorted.
"Ha! We were in the middle of the courtyard! How could you have tripped on a root?"
"You shoved me and I tripped on a root!"
The youngest sibling watched his older brothers bicker, chuckling softly every time one of them made a snarky joke about the other. Their father decided to add a few comments into their conversation, further aggravating the petty argument between the brothers. This lasted for a little longer, before the two princes decided to have a rematch out in the forest, leaving the youngest brother and his father alone.
"And how has your training gone?" asked the king, gazing down at his beloved son. The king was so lenient and kind to him, one could argue that the king favored his youngest son over the others.
"I think I have been improving… I'm not so sure." The prince answered with his soft voice. "I don't think I'm going to get any better."
The king sighed and smiled gently, placing his hand on his son's head. "You will, my son. You will. You have yet to bloom."
The prince nodded and smiled back at his father before dismissing himself. He sighed lightly once he entered the large palace. The young prince was always told that he would someday be as strong as his father and brothers, but he knew that was just a fantasy. His body might have been able to lift a few heavy things or so, but that didn't mean he could last for three minutes in a fist fight, let alone win one. His father told him that he was just a "late bloomer" though. Yeah, sure.
The prince's attendants were already waiting for him with his other set of clothes when he arrived at his chambers. They immediately started to shed his formal clothing, replacing the heavy expensive gold and silks with light cotton fabric. His tense muscles relaxed as he slipped into the thin, baggy shirt and pants no longer feeling the weight of the heavy ornaments he had to wear every day. He finished off his new outfit by wrapping a long piece of fabric around his head in a turban-like style, successfully hiding his dark, medium length hair. He now looked like any other commoner.
"Be careful Your Highness, there are foreigners in our ports this time of year." One attendant warned. The prince smiled and strode towards the window, lowering a rope that reached the ground three stories below.
"That just makes it more fun, right?" he said excitedly.
His servant sighed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You may be weaker than your brothers, but you are far more adventurous than the two of them combined."
The young prince laughed lightly before lowering himself onto the ground using the rope. He was thankful that he had such trustworthy people there to serve him. They were reluctant at first, like any other attendant would be, but after some persuading, they allowed him to leave at any time he pleased. This was a regular thing really, every other day or so he'd leave the palace and escape to the hustling city below. He wouldn't do anything too crazy rather, he would blend in with the rest of the crowd and watch the commoners work and play. Sometimes it seemed like the commoners had more freedom than he did. They got to meet, talk, and play with their friends, say what they wanted with no one to judge them, and even go where ever they wanted. But even if the prince could not have this freedom, watching his people enjoy this luxury was a breath of fresh air. He would leave more often if he could, but the risk of getting caught would increase.
Walking into the large cluster of people in the streets, the prince in disguise let the flow of the crowd slowly push him towards the docks. Soon, the herd of people diverged into different directions, giving him the ability to walk freely the rest of the way. When he arrived at the docks, it was almost like he was in a different world. These foreigners looked like them, yet looked so different at the same time. Their skin was paler, their hair was darker, and they seemed to chatter in an unfamiliar language, their voices pitching higher and lower as if singing a song. The foreigners had set up stands that held fabrics, silks, green stones and jewellery, as well as pottery and other ceramics. It was interesting to watch them sell and trade their goods with his people. He walked by as many stands as he could, exploring these foreign objects that his people used every day and yet he knew nothing about. Every now and then a foreigner would scream in his ear and shove their trade goods in his face, which he took as advertising. It startled him the first few times, but he soon got used to it and shook his head every time someone would try to sell him something. The prince stopped by one particular stand that sold white pottery with intricate blue designs. He was careful not to come too close to the breakable ceramics, having experience with breaking pottery at the palace due to clumsiness.
Only a few stands down, a young trader who was travelling with his older brothers was selling the goods that they'd brought with them. He jumped and yelled, and even sang, his unusual curl bouncing along with every movement. Although it was a little tiring travelling, it was worth it when he got to go to new places. He even learned how to speak a few languages fluently from listening to other traders. Man, was he smart. He smiled to himself, thinking about how charming and intelligent he was to attract so many customers. The ladies were drooling over him!
"What's with that stupid grin?"
The young man was interrupted by his younger brother, who had his usual emotionless expression on his face. "Hey! You totally interrupted my 'me' time, Xiao-Xiao!" he whined.
"I don't really care. And stop calling me that."
The trader pouted and turned away, looking over at the other stands. That's where he spotted him. A young native who looked to be around his age, studying a vase very closely. It was kind of weird; it was as if the guy had never seen one before. The trader continued to watch him, laughing quietly at the young man's peculiar behaviour.
The prince continued to gaze at the vase, tracing the designs with his eyes, only to lose track of where he was before. He was so focused on it he didn't notice a thief running at full speed towards him.
"Out of the way! Out of the way!"
The thief dodged and shoved people nearby, running as he clutched a bag of gold he'd stolen. However, a cart had pulled over, blocking his path. Desperate to escape, he decided to run through a small space between the disguised prince and a display of pottery. He dove through the small path, shoving the young man and toppling over a few vases, instantly breaking at the contact of the ground.
The prince was bewildered as he was shoved back by a running stranger, vases falling over and shattering on the ground, spraying him with shards of glass and ceramics. He'd gotten a few cuts and scrapes, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. However, the trader who owned the vases, his back turned and unaware of the thief that ran by, turned around from all of the noise, only to be met with a young stranger and broken remains of his goods. The large man bounded towards the disguised prince, his face beet red, and his braid swishing behind him.
The angry man roughly grabbed a fistful the young prince's loose turban, screaming at him in foreign words he could not understand. He kept pointing at the broken vases. "I-I didn't do it! I-I swear! I c-can pay for it if you j-just let m-me go home and g-get my money!" The prince stuttered as he trembled with fear, tears prickling his eyes from the pain of his hair being yanked. He didn't seem to understand, and if he did, he didn't believe him. People around them had seen the thief run by, but didn't try to defend the young man, trying to mind their own business. The angry trader released him, only to grab the front of his shirt, shaking him violently and continuing to scream incomprehensible words. "I-I don't understand! I-I…!" the prince said fearfully. The large man grabbed what seemed to be some sort of wooden rod, and raised it high in the air above the prince's head. His eyes widened, aware of what the foreigner was going to do to him. He struggled in the man's iron grip as he tried to convince him. "N-no! Please! I-I didn't do it!" The prince begged. He cowered as the wooden rod came down on him.