Warnings: None beyond Romano's potty mouth
Notes: Kink meme de-anon for the national anthems prompt.
A Joyful Song
"So then we are all in agreement?" Germany asked. He eyed England and France tentatively. If one of them agreed, he fully expected the other to disagree.
Then someone would propose once more that they should hold a competition with composers from all over Europe, another would argue they should rather take a look at the suggestions they had received and they would be back where they had been 1971.
The year was 1985 and the nations of the European Committee had gathered for a small, but meaningful task: to give their blessings to the European Anthem. First thing in the morning, the eleven of them had gathered in the conference room around a large round conference table, seated by alphabetical order as usual. They hadn't expected the meeting to take longer than an hour.
It shouldn't have been a matter of long discussions; Ode to Joy had already been the anthem of the Council of Europe since 1972. The Council countries encouraged it to be played on Europe Day in schools and municipalities; it was played at European events. Furthermore, their officials had already as much as agreed to it, all that was left was the official blessing of the nations and some more bureaucracy.
However, the eleven personifications of ten European Community nations loved to squabble with another, even when there was nothing to argue about. They also liked to nurse their grudges.
Romano was still sore that the Council of Europe had picked "the potato bastard's song" thirteen years ago.
"Why is the bastard acting like he's in charge?" South Italy asked North Italy in a stage whisper and shot Germany a dirty glare.
Veneziano hummed a disapproving, "Ve!" He added a reproachful look out of large brown puppy eyes for good measure. "Be nice, Romano, we're all friends."
"We're not!" England barked. His large eyebrows furrowed into one giant hairy line of unhappiness. "I'd rather die than be friends with the frog!"
"That can be arranged," Ireland stage whispered to Denmark. It was a sorry excuse for a whisper, seeing as how Denmark sat four seats away.
"Mon Dieu, Angleterre! What did I ever do to earn your hate?" France yelped and clutched his heart melodramatically.
England's eyebrows seemed to grow further in sync with his scowl. "Existing!"
"Guys!" Belgium spoke up, clutching her pile of papers in distress. "Guys, let's not fight!"
"Sister Belgium's right!" Luxembourg sniffed and crossed her arms daintily in front of her chest. "I could be working in my bank instead of wasting my time with you idiots!"
Someone stage-whispered, "Tax evasion!" much to Luxembourg's outrage.
Germany sighed, rubbed his temples and considered proposing a ban on stage whispers. He would have done it, too, except he knew the motion wouldn't pass. "Behave yourselves!" he snapped. "We're all hungry and tired."
"We are! I'm missing my siesta!" Veneziano chimed in.
"Greece isn't," Netherlands snorted and glared at the Greek.
Nine pairs of eyes turned to the Greek. His head had fallen forwards tellingly. His eyes were also conspicuously closed.
Romano threw his ballpoint pen at his head. "Wake up, cat bastard! If I don't get to sleep, neither do you!"
The pen bounced off Greece's forehead and clattered to the table. Greece's head jerked up and he blinked blearily at the glaring nations. "I wasn't asleep; I was just resting my eyes!"
"Guys," Belgium said plaintively, "our anthem."
Romano snorted angrily. "I don't fucking care! Whatever gets me away from you bastards!"
"South Italy votes yes to adopting the Ode to Joy as the European Community's anthem," Belgium said hastily before someone could take offense. She turned to the nation sitting next to Romano. "Luxembourg, how do you vote?"
With freedom looming so close they would have sworn that they could already smell the delicious scent of Belgium's famous Moules frites, mussels with fries, the voting went surprisingly quickly.
"The motion has passed!" She paused for dramatic effect. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have an anthem!" Belgium said with a face-splitting grin and clapped her hands in delight.
Veneziano joined in with her delighted clapping and cheering. So did the other nations, though it would be a point of debate for many years how many of them were celebrating their joint anthem and how many were merely celebrating that they could get away from the others.
Then, Veneziano decided to take it one step further and belted out at the top of his lungs, "Freude schöner Götterfunken, Tochter aus Elysium!"
The whooping and clapping and back-patting died a sudden death.
"I'm not singing my anthem in the potato bastard's language!" Romano spat.
Netherlands shot Germany a dirty look and muttered something ominous about bicycle thieves.
"Um," said Belgium.
France erupted into rich, silky laughter which had the hair at the back of the necks of several warier nations stand on edge. "Well, Angleterre, it's been good twelve years," he said sweetly and heaved a sigh of regret, "I'll miss you!"
England bristled and glowered. "What the bloody hell are you blathering about, you brainless twit?"
France's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Your ignorance is appalling, Angleterre! Didn't you read the lyrics at all?" He leant forward to look past Belgium and Denmark right at England. "Wer ein holdes Weib errungen, mische seinen Jubel ein," he quoted slowly, taking great relish in every word though he had a hard time pronouncing them. "Und wer's nie gekonnt, der stehle weinend sich aus diesem Bund." His smile became just as bright as Belgium's had been when she declared they had an anthem. „Schiller said it himself; there is no place for frigid old prudes with giant eyebrows in our brotherhood! You don't have to run away crying, though," he added generously, "you may cry on the inside."
England had trouble making sense of the German words, but he had no trouble understanding that he had just been mocked. With a howl of fury, he leapt forward and tried to reach France so he could strangle him. "You lecherous miserable little frog, I'll show you crying!"
Denmark helpfully leant out of the way and cheered, "Fight, fight, fight!"
Belgium, however, leapt heroically into the fray. She wrapped her arms around her seat neighbor's chest and held him back. After a yelp of, "Netherlands!" her brother helped and held England back from the other side.
Caught between two thirds of the Benelux nations, England was reduced to spitting insults.
Germany placed a hand over the cackling France's mouth just as he took a deep breath to goad him some more.
Still laughing, France licked his hand. He laughed all the louder when Germany pulled his hand back with a traumatized grimace.
"Ve~ don't go licking Germany, big brother France, he doesn't like it," Italy said, looking upset.
Germany coughed awkwardly and tried to be stealthy about wiping off his hand on his trouser leg. "Thank you, Italy," he said stiffly.
Italy bobbed his head happily. "He likes hugs and kisses better!"
On the up side, France and England forgot all about their fight in the midst of chortling at the furiously blushing Germany's expense. On the down side, the other nations were chortling as well.
Italy beamed. He loved it when everyone was cheerful.
"You should have told us the lyrics were written for lecherous perverts!" England snapped once everyone had calmed down.
Germany twitched under the sheer force of England's bushy-eyebrowed glare. "The lyrics are nothing like that!" He looked accusingly at France. "You can't mix random verses together."
France shrugged blithely. "The text is awfully long, I summarized it!"
"Does our anthem have a verse about cats?" Greece yawned. All that energetic squabbling was making him awfully tired. He rubbed his eyes and yawned again. "There should be a verse about cats."
"I don't think so," Veneziano said thoughtfully. His face was scrunched up in deep thought. "It mentions 'all creatures,' but that's later in the song. We don't use that part for the anthem." He brightened again. "If Austria ever joins us, we can get him to write a verse about cats – and about pasta!"
"And aquavit!" Denmark joined in.
"There should be one that you're a bunch of fucking idiots!" Romano hissed.
Veneziano hummed thoughtfully and tapped his pen against his bottom lip. "I doubt Austria can think of something that rhymes with 'fucking idiots.'"
"The anthem has no lyrics at all!" Germany ground out between clenched teeth.
"That's what you say now!" Romano snapped. "Next you'll have us all singing in German like my idiotic brother!"
"No, no, he's right," Belgium said and gesticulated wildly in a desperate attempt to regain everyone's attention lest it was fully taken up by another round of squabbling. "Let me check…," she quickly leafed through her papers, "here it is! The proposal was to adopt Ode to Joy as used by the Council of Europe. As we all know, the Council of Europe's anthem is instrumental."
"A wise decision," Netherlands quipped.
Belgium rummaged around in the pocket of her coat, slung over the back of her chair, and came up with a box of homemade Belgian truffles. She opened the box and placed it in the middle of the table. "I made them last night just for you!" While everyone was enjoying their chocolate – there had only been minimal quarrels over who got which piece, she knew better than to bring different sorts of truffles – she leant back and relished in the moment of peace.
Veneziano licked some molten chocolate off his fingers and hummed happily. "We should have lyrics," he said then, effectively destroying any chance of peace Belgium's truffles might have created. "A song without lyrics is boring! Romano and I like to sing our anthem, it's fun!"
Eight nations started to talk at the same time, each trying to drown out the others and Greece's snores.
Belgium sighed despondently and Germany groaned.
Once the noise level had decreased, Belgium said with a forced bright smile, "I have a suggestion! If Austria ever joins the European Community, we will ask him to write lyrics. If we and our people like them, we'll adopt them officially as the text to our anthem. Does everyone agree on that? Or would you rather we try to come up with lyrics, all eleven of us?"
There was some unhappy grumbling and some more insults towards Austria, but in the end, they all agreed it was best. If they collaborated on the lyrics, it would mean spending weeks or even months together. With all their arguing, it might even be years.
"So then," Belgium said once again, "we have an anthem!"
"Let's drink to that!" Denmark cheered.
"Siesta!" the Italies yelped.
"Would the last one to leave please wake up Greece?" Germany sighed.
Nearly a year later on May 29th 1986, the European Community nations were once more together, their number of member countries boosted to twelve by Spain and Portugal.
Side by side they stood in a rare moment of harmony. Thirteen pairs of solemn eyes watched as the European flag was hoisted for the very first time in front of Berlaymont Palace, the seat of the European Commission, to the tune of Ode to Joy.
Italy still thought their song would be nicer yet if it had a verse about pasta.
The End
Notes: Ode to Joy had already been popular, among other songs, as unofficial music at European festivities prior to 1972. 1972, it was adopted by the Council of Europe to be played at official European events and on Europe Day in schools and municipalities. However, the Council of Europe doesn't equal the European Community. It's a separate organization that includes far more nations, for example Switzerland and Turkey. Only in 1985 was the European Anthem officially recognized as the EC's (now EU's) anthem.
If you aren't confused yet, the anthem has no lyrics officially. However, lyrics are sometimes sung unofficially. First and foremost, there is the original German Ode to Joy lyrics. However, adaptations in other European languages and the lyrics of an Austrian composer, the Hymnus Latinus Europae, exist as well.
Although the EC went along with the Council's earlier decision, I decided to focus on the EC. A cast of ten is far easier to handle than a cast of 17 and the anthem is associated more with the EU anyway.
I couldn't find the same lyrics twice, so I assume there isn't an official literal translation. I've only ever seen the first and (sometimes) second strophe associated with the European Anthem. Most tragically, none of them mention cats, aquavit or pasta.