Germania gave the other nation another (slightly withered) glare before promptly heaving Grecia's meticulously prepared breakfast into a vase Aegypta had settled beside him. Roma Antiqua swallowed nervously, and moved to pull the blonde's hair away from his face as he dealt with yet another bout of morning sickness.
"...I hate you." he muttered as he wiped his mouth. He refused to meet the others' gaze, directing his glare to an innocent bust of Hestia in the corner. The stoic nation had gotten more -shall we say- 'emotional' in the days after his discovery- in that he often vocalized his new-found hate for the man who was currently hovering lovingly all over him, in varying languages (whether or not said man was there).
Roma Antiqua sighed, sitting himself beside his lover and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He felt the other man stiffen, and shift away from him. "Germania," his voice had acquired an edge to it, not necessarily that of a commander addressing a soldier, but perhaps something more powerful.
"What." It was not so much a question as it was a warning, but as it stood, Roma Antiqua didn't exactly heed warnings.
"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" the rapidly growing empire sounded tired and truly confused, and even if he wasn't, Germania really couldn't find a reason as to why he should ignore him (no matter that he was annoying and boisterous and always smelled of wine and women).
That did not mean he could not try.
Staring at the blonde's profile, Roma Antiqua could see that his mouth was set in a thin line, a sign that he did not want to answer. His skin was paler than usual, but there was high color in his cheeks. Hadn't the fever broken already? The empire frowned, and with a slight turn of the other's shoulders, he was able to press their foreheads together. Hmm, the fever didn't seem to be returning, but he was breathing oddly, rapidly...
"Germania?" he ventured quietly. Still, the other nation refused to meet his eyes. Those ice-blue orbs he'd long fallen in love with were half-lidded, but from this close, he could see the raging emotions the other desperately tried to hide. He smiled lightly; didn't he know he couldn't hide anything from him?
He would try again. "Germania?"
He needed to know-- badly. Why did he keep this from him? Why didn't tell him? Why did he have to find out the way he did (with Grecia running into him as he came back from a battle, frantic and enraged, saying something about Germania and a fever that refused to go down)? And why was he acting this way, spiting him and not meeting his eyes (when before, their eyes would be constantly locked with each others')?
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For his part, Germania was wishing that he'd never run to Grecia. She was a wonderful woman, truly, and he wouldn't deny that she'd help calm him down substantially, but did she really have to run the news to the fool who was currently invading his already diminished boundaries?
At least she'd left Aegypta to hold him down-- even in his fever-induced delirium, the onyx-eyed nation had assured him in her most serious tone that he had been cursing a good number of people, with Roma Antiqua's name being mentioned frequently, and that he looked ready to rip the man's head off, if not for his bedridden state.
When the empire had arrived at Grecia's door, servants had to flock together to prevent him from entering the wing Grecia had given him-- Mistress Aegypta had given them explicit orders not to do so, until he'd regained his senses. As it had been established, Roma Antiqua was not a man who listened easily; hence he shoved his way through the servants, finally arriving at Germania's door.
"Germania!"
The sight that greeted him was a thing of his deepest, most hidden nightmares. The nation whom he'd sparred with and fought countless battles with (and against) was lying with his head propped up with pillows, handsome features contorted in pain, gasps that sounded like a dying man's death rattle coming from his lips
("Come now Germania, won't you give me a farewell kiss?")
"Germania..."
Aegypta sat beside him, both her hands holding one of his, and she spoke evenly, though Roma Antiqua didn't bother to understand her words. In a flash, he was beside Germania as well, clutching his left hand and pressing fervent kisses to it.
"Germania, Germania,"
("Say my name, please?")
He reached out and brushed strands of hair from his face, pleading, begging,
"Please wake up, Germania..."
And wake up he did. To a Roma Antiqua sporting viciously red cheeks, and a tight smile. He was holding Germania's left hand, and he still had his armor on. There were scratches on the armor, but not on the man wearing them, and Germania felt strangely relieved, even though he had already decided he would actively hate the man once he was up and about.
They stayed like this for a while, silent and contemplative, holding hands and occasionally giving the other long looks that went unnoticed, until Grecia burst in with a tray of food for both of them. She nagged at Roma Antiqua to eat, while Germania simply complied, knowing that he'd lose it all in a while anyway. Aegypta had come soon after, with a few servants trailing after her, each carrying intricately designed vases.
She and Germania had shared a glance, and then she was gone, saying something about Ra and his ridiculous choice of Pharaohs. Grecia had left then as well, off to tend to her Emperor. Both women had given Roma Antiqua murderous (well, Grecia's was murderous-- Aegypta's promised instant torture) glares, but he paid them no mind.
They'd stayed silent until Germania clapped a hand to his mouth and leaned over the bed, promptly relieving his stomach of whatever meal it had tried to digest. Roma Antiqua had watched concernedly for a moment, before he moved to keep the blonde's hair off his face and began to rub soothing circles into the nation's back.
This had gone on every morning for nearly a week, and Roma Antiqua was not a terribly patient man (he'd already shown an unusual amount of it when he kept his mouth shut around Germania for the first few days, having already been 'answered' by the other two female nations), as Germania knew, so when he'd begun to question him that morning, he'd somehow already prepared himself.
This, however, did not make things any easier.
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Germania was still keeping quiet, even if Roma Antiqua could see the storm in his eyes. He'd moved so that the blonde's head rested on his chest, and he'd linked their hands and settled them on Germania's lap. His free hand was running through his fine golden hair, an attempt to calm the overwrought nation down.
"Please tell me why." Roma Antiqua asked, and though his voice was low and feather-light, Germania knew layered questions when faced with one.
The nation in his arms shifted, and he caught the whispered reply that made him smile ever so slightly, "Because." His Germania was too adorable...
But then he continued to speak.
"Because you were leaving... because, because I thought I could handle it myself-- because I did not want you to worry about me, anymore than you already do..."
As Germania spoke, Roma Antiqua's arms wound tighter around him, as he inwardly cursed himself for doing this to his love-- but then, his last words would hurt the most, "...and because it doesn't matter."
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"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" the empire choked out, now hugging the blonde nation from behind, their hands still linked together. He spoke into Germania's shoulder, but as there were no other sounds, they could hear each other quite clearly.
"Of course it matters...!"
Licking his lips, refusing to acknowledge the bubbling feeling in his stomach, Germania spoke again, "You have your other conquests." he would be reasonable about this, even if he didn't want to. "You do not... you do not have to bother yourself with- with this." With me.
He would handle this himself, Germania thought, just as he had handled Gaol, and Celtice, and--
"No."
The word was spoken with such fervor; it could have easily been mistaken as an order in battle. Germania, against his better judgment, turned to look at the empire's face, curious and more than a bit exasperated-- trust Roma Antiqua to complicate matters like this.
The empire's face was hard, but his eyes were oddly tender as they gazed at Germania, and the man blushed uncomfortably under their scrutiny. Roma Antiqua separated their linked hands and cupped Germania's cheek with his freed hand, speaking clearly and stalling any replies Germania may have felt the need to make for the moment.
"You speak of conquests-- and you are right, for that is all they will ever be. They will never mean anything to me other than territories claimed and peoples united. But you are not one of them-- yes, I will not deny that I wanted to rule over you, but that has changed over time. Germania, if I ruled you, I would lose you... And I do not speak of you as one empire speaks of another-- I speak of you as the one I would have by my side forever."
His hand slid to Germania's stomach, lingering there, and Germania's breath hitched at the look of complete bliss on his face.
"And this, this life inside you, this is more than I could ever have asked for. I was prepared to live with you, and you alone, and of course, our people, but to have a family with you... You do not know how happy I am, to be blessed with this. With you."
Roma Antiqua pressed a kiss to his forehead, wrapping his arm back around him and pulling him into a warm embrace. " L'amo Germania, l'amo... e la ringrazia..."
As he leaned into his lover, Germania couldn't help the rueful smile on his lips. It was just like Roma Antiqua to finish everything for you.
"Ich liebe Sie auch, Sie alberner Narr..."
Ah, but no one ever said he'd take that easily.
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The babe was fair haired, and fair skinned, and his eyes were the color of the deep of a frozen lake. He looked just like Germania, Roma Antiqua thought, and smiled. As if sensing his thoughts, the babe raised his eyes to him, blinking them slowly, and then reaching out with an impossibly tiny hand. The empire's smile widened, and he mirrored his action with a finger, letting the newborn wrap his own fingers around it.
"You look just like your Mamma, little angel. So cute, too..." the babe cooed at him in the undecipherable language of their ilk, still staring at the man before him.
"What will we name him?" Germania's voice was weak, even as it came from right across him. They lay in a bed together, their newborn child nestled between them, all bundled up with the colors of royalty and pride. A robe in shades of blue and purple, with gold linings, it had been a most wonderful gift from Grecia, amongst the many other gifts she showered them with ("It was high time you two got together!").
Roma Antiqua lifted his gaze to look at the other nation, noting a bit worriedly that he was still abnormally pale. That aside, he seemed to be alright, and he frowned (rather prettily) at the empire as he continued to stare.
"I don't know." he replied honestly. What name would they give this gift from the gods? This wish-come-true from the heavens? He reached over and fingered Germania's braid, thinking. Germania frowned again (this time it looked more like a pout) and batted his hand away. Roma Antiqua relented, and they lapsed into silence once more.
After a while, Germania brushed his fingers over the babe's tuft of hair, a small smile on his lips. "Let's name him after you." he said. Roma Antiqua blinked, and stared at the nation. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," the other answered simply. "He will be a great nation, and he will be all that we are, and all that we never could be."
Roma Antiqua thought for a moment, and grinned at his lover. "Will he be better than us?"
Germania scoffed, a similar grin tugging at his lips. "Depends on whether or not you let him."
The empire merely shrugged, and leaned over to plant a kiss on the babe's -his son's- cheek. "We'll see, won't we?"
"Mhmm..." the nation replied, tucking the robe around the babe snugly, giving his clenched fists a kiss as well. He yawned and began to close his eyes.
"Sleep well, Holy Roman Empire..."
.
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.
.
.
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fin
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Author's Note: Crossposted from the hetalia kink meme over at lj, with an epilogue still to come. Pardon the pale imitation of fluff and Rome's name. I just couldn't resist referring to him as Roma Antiqua, since this is set in the Ancient Times. :D I'm pretty sure you guys could tell from the context, what Rome and Germania are saying...
Rome: I love you, Germania, I love you... and thank you.
Germania: I love you too, you silly fool.
R&R folks. :D