Hey guys! This is my first Hetalia fan fiction and the plot is inspired (but not a total copy) of Lion King 2!
Hope you guys enjoy!
I do not own the characters.
His bare little feet scampered on the dirt, clouds of brown flakes spraying his feet. He giggled with a mix of excitement and pride. He was actually following through with his self made promise. Waking up as dawn's fingertips painted the sky, slipping down the stairs of their home trying painfully hard not to make a sound, and finally running outside past the yard and past the gate into the rough ground of the large town.
Feliciano Vargas was not a troublemaker, rebel, or bad boy like his brother sometimes was. He was the polar opposite of Lovino, always listening to Romulus and never, not once, breaking the elder's rules.
Knowing that what he was doing was so spontaneous and heinous made his little ten year old heart thump faster and his feet scurry. His amber colored eyes dazzled with the reflections of the wonderous objects in the trade market.
He ran inside, his head tilting this way and that to look attentively at the foreign items and bargaining men. None paid him any mind, especially with his small height. He walked with a slow stride, wanting to take in as much as the busy atmosphere as possible.
He walked just staring at everything with awe, his smile still effortlessly pulled together in childlike wonder, past several booths before bee-lining for his favorite shop.
The man that owned it was helping another man when he approached the stand. He caught the owner's eyes and in Italian the stout man politely ended their conversation.
"Prince Feliciano? What are you doing here by yourself? Did your grandfather send you here to buy some pasta?" He gave a hearty laugh; the child returned it with a blinding smile and a hesitant nod.
"Si, Nonno told me to come and get some spaghetti and tomato sauce, but he gave me no money." He frowned in a pout and looked up with saucers for eyes. There was a small grain of mischief in them.
The owner swallowed thickly and shook his head briefly as if struggling with a decision. Then with a tight smile that pulled the flabs of his pudgy face unappealingly, he nodded.
"Okay my boy. Here," He scooped some of the dry strands of pasta into a cloth bag along with a glass jar of tomato sauce. He handed the bag to Feli's stubby hands.
"Grazi!" he said with a cheer filled visage. Then he started to skip off further down the street.
"Tell your grandfather Nicholi says hello!" He heard the man call behind him, but all the voices around him faded it out.
The rushed hustle and bustle of the bazaar was so thrilling for little Feliciano. All the voices, the brightening of a stranger's face after they purchase something of interest or the satisfactory grin of a shop owner who had earned their revenue. Everyone was happy, just like they should be.
He hummed as he frolicked down the cobblestones, loving the feel of the warm air with the aura of wheat and smoke.
"stronzetto!" A deep voice rumbled to his side. He stopped to a questioning halt with furrowed brows and an open mouth. His eyes wondered the area to see the familiar silver-reflecting surface of a guard's uniform. In the brawny man's hand was a boy who looked to be his age, only taller and blonde.
The guard started to curse more in Italian while the boy tried pulling away. He could see the blonde boy's mouth moving, but he couldn't understand the language, he calculated that the boy was a foreigner of some sort.
He did understand that when a guard pulls out a knife that something bad is about to happen.
"Hey!" Feliciano charged forward and frantically pulled on the guard's elbow, before it sliced through the air. The man's head snapped furiously to Feliciano and in recognition, his eyes widened and his sneer fell.
"What is going on here?" His tiny voice demanded, trying to imitate the way his grandfather orders people around. The guard fell to one knee and bowed in respect.
He kept his eyes trained on the kneeling man, but he could see in his peripheral that the boy was staring at him. The brunette child straightened his back and lifted his chin in confidence.
"This outsider was caught walking in public with out papers, Prince." He said respectively and his head stayed down, but his hands warily fisted the drapery of his uniform laying on his lap.
The brunette tapped his helmet with the palm of his hand and huffed in a breath. "He is my friend visiting from uh," For the first time his eyes locked with the cold blue gawk across from him. He scanned his appearance, his eyes sliding over his rigid form, then looked back at the guard. "…from the north. He wondered off and got lost."
Surprising the already perplexed boy even more, he grabbed his hand curtly. The taller looked at their interlocked hands then to the strange boy in front of him. Feliciano smiled giddily.
"Well we must be going now! Come along friend!" Before the kneeling man got to his feet, he shot off pulling the blonde boy with him. He ran far down the streets to get as far away from the guard as possible. He laughed his childish heartwarming laugh, confusing the stoic blonde boy to the brink.
He slowed to a stop when they reached the beach, one of his favorite places to be. The hurried tang in the traders market shifted to a relaxed sooth of waves of sand and seawater. He hadn't realized that his hand was still in the stranger's, but he didn't very much care.
The taller wrenched his hand away, his face heating with silent irritation. His mouth opened to start a string of curses, but it snapped shut when those earnest and pure amber eyes were sealed on his again.
"Parli italiano?"
The taller didn't acknowledge the question, looking at Feli with a scowl of confusion. He took that as his answer.
"Okay how about English?" He drawled out the words cautiously.
The boy nodded slowly, the stern look on his face perpetual. The Prince studied the stranger more intently. He was an anomaly to what Feli was used to. It was nearly impossible to tell what the boy was thinking or even feeling. He couldn't decipher if he was angry or just very serious. His blond strands were fallen to frame his face in an organized chaotic fashion. His chin was hard, like the rest of his facial structure and his eyes were dead cold. Beautiful, but cold.
Silently, the taller turned to leave breaking Feliciano out of his examining.
"Ve! I'm Feliciano Vargas, Prince of the Roman Empire!" He said with an eager excitement, forcing his hand into the other's from behind for the second time that day. The foreigner turned and with more ferocity pulled it out of his grasp. Still silent.
The Prince frowned. "Um, What's your name?" Then like magic, his smile reappeared.
The blonde blinked at him. At a first perspective it looked like he was refusing to answer.
"I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt, son of Folkert Beilschmidt. Prince of Germania." He muttered, his eyes cast to his feet.
Feliciano pursed his lips in deep thought. His head turned to the glittering water and the roused sun.
To Ludwig, Feliciano's eyes reflected the sun's color more vibrantly. Just like the first time they landed on his azure ones, his heart skipped in his chest. They even shone as bright as the sun.
He dropped his bag of pasta ingredients and turned back to his friend with a look that had a playful idea incased in the flamboyant features.
"Oh, I know! Do you want to chase me? I'm very good at running away!" He squealed happily then started bouncing away without letting the other Prince answer.
Ludwig was flabbergasted, he looked at the boy running away and gesturing him to follow. "Come on Ludwig! Try and catch me!" Then his smile beamed as bright as the sky. The sun and the sky all painted on the palette of this boy's face.
His jog sped into a full out run when he saw his new friend running faster as well. The Italian's laugh was contagious and Ludwig couldn't help but giggle from afar as he ran faster.
"Can't get me!" He shouted tauntingly. The two princes started sprinting and soon Ludwig was gaining on the brunette. Only a number of steps behind.
He timed his position, his speed, and his agility correctly and in one rapidly swift move he lunged at Feliciano, bringing both of their chortling selves to the soft sand below.
"I got you!" The taller said in between his loud heaving titters. The caramel eyed boy screeched with laughter. Using the element of surprise he pushed Ludwig off and pinned him to the sand, the small particles spilling everywhere, but going unnoticed.
"Nuh uh! I got-"
"FELICIANO VARGAS!" The bellowing voice of his grandfather shouted above him. He went to twist his torso, but a strong hand latched his collar and pulled him into the air. He had no time to protest before he was being incarcerated within the King's arms.
"LUDWIG BEILSCHMIDT!" Another voice boomed in front of Feliciano, he looked up to see a long blonde haired man with the same eyes as his new friend's picking Ludwig up and into his own arms.
He gave a strong glare into Romulus' eyes, one that made both Princes' heart drop with dread.
"What was your filthy grandchild doing on top of my Ludwig?" His bitter tone made Feli curl into his grandfather's arms. He felt the vibration of a growl in his Nonno's chest.
"My grandson was doing nothing! It was your frisky, indignant pig of a grandson that pinned my sweet Feli first!" He snapped with a tone that Feliciano had never heard. Had never wanted to hear.
"Nonno w-we were just playing…" The child whimpered trying to get his elder's attention.
"Hush Feliciano!" He barked at his grandson without looking away from Folkert's accusing orbs.
Ludwig could see from his own Vati's arms that his new friend was getting upset. There were shiny tears falling from his breathtaking eyes. It made Ludwig genuinely hurt.
"No, we were playing a game, Vati!" He spoke, but only received a gruff grunt.
"I thought after your irresponsible disagreement between our councils, you would leave!" Romulus pushed on, keeping his stand still. He could see the flush of anger on his enemy's cheeks.
"Trust me Vargas, I want to leave this hell hole as soon as possible, but because of my idiotic grandchild, I was forced to actually breath this putrid air until I could find him!" He countered back.
"Then leave," Romulus whispered with a snarl loud enough for the Germanians to hear.
"And I don't want to see that-that pervertever come near my Feliciano ever again!"
"But grandpa!" Feliciano pleaded, but the quick turn of his rage fueled eyes told him to stay quiet.
"I hope your empire along with your grandchildren burn." Folkert said with cruel honestly laced in his words. Ludwig gasped, but covered his mouth.
And before his grandpa could turn, he looked at the other whimpering boy.
Together they mouthed a hushed goodbye.