Good morning, good afternoon or whatever time you will read this.
My native language is not English, so please excuse my poor grammar or use of words.
Pairing: No Pairing
Rating: T
Genre: Adventure (?)
Disclaimer: Characters belongs to Himaruya.
_
Excessive laughter and the singing of drunken men were heard from the tavern late that night. It was the warm night somewhere in the old city of Rome. Nero had rebuilt it; still it was an old city. Even over the noise of the men, the cicadas were audible, their song singing through the ages, through the summer.
"I'm sorry, I have to leave you guys here. I got a bunch of kids waiting at home!"
"But they're all yours, right?", the rhetorical question was followed by a wave of loud laughter.
The man that was leaving the tavern hummed the tune of a popular song after he had left the building behind him. He perfectly knew where he was heading. A cheeky grin was on his lips and a woman in his arm. The female was busty and well formed – as drunk as well. She giggled here and there when they had to turn a corner like they were on some fairgrounds.
Servants welcomed the lord of the house. They had been waiting for him to return for a very long time. Yet, they would never dream of complaining. Their master had always been like this, and would never change his habit. Women and wine, these were his hobbies, his life – beside war. However, warfare had become rare.
The man strolled through his house, soon had left behind his servants and headed for his bedroom with that certain female. On the way, he passed the room where his children were soundly sleeping.
"Are they all yours? My goood~, you must be a very potential man~", the woman said while her forms wobbled a little due to her giggle.
"Imo (Latin: Yes), they're all mine."
"Can I hug one?"
"No, you have to wait until tomorrow, paenitet. (Latin: Sorry)"
"Aw maaan~"
Before she could protest any further, the male had dragged her further along.
But the children had not all been asleep. The eldest of them, a small blonde boy was laying there, his dark blue eyes facing the wall opposite to the door with anger.
In his small head, cruel scenes of murdering his father were displayed – and he was pretty creative for being so young. Yet, back in these times, violence was hardly kept away from children. Children were often at the same level as wild dogs on the street…
On the next morning, the children of Rome gathered and played in several groups.
"Are you sure about what you heard…?"
"I am, Hispania! And I still think… how can it be that our father is whoring around like this? Who is our mother? Are we even having the same mother? Why did he never talk about that to us? Every child has a father /and/ a mother."
Hispania gasped and looked at his older brother in shock. "…A-are you saying… we are not.. brothers?", the brown haired boy was close to tears.
"Ack, don't cry now, Hispania! And take out that thumb. Who old were you again? 20? In human age you would be considered an adult by now…"
"But we are no humans…", another boy said with an angry look. From all of the children here, he looked most like their father.
"I think I am from the north.", the blonde boy concluded. "Have you seen where those barbarians at the last games in the stadium had come from? From the north. And they had blonde hair and blue eyes. It's where I have to look…"
"And how will you do it? Pff, just look at yourself. You won't survive a single day out there."
"I-imo, … Romano is right. What if someone picks you up and brings you back?"
"I have to plan it… that for sure. The first step is to actually make a wish. Next step is… how.", the blonde looked thoughtful now. "I will need… provisions. And a map. …or something… "
The next night, the children that were inaugurated helped Franciae to gather provisions. All kinds of good food had to be stolen from the kitchen.
"She's still awake, what now?", Hispania said, looking into the kitchen from the doorframe. The other children were already sleeping. The kitchen was guarded by an old woman that had served the house ever since she had been a young girl. The children knew she had a thing for old Rome.
"We need to create a diversion.", Franciae suggested.
"What? … No way!"
"Shh… It's the only way. Now ta… no, let your sleeve inside your mouth. It makes you look cute."
"Uuhm… Avia (Lat.: Grandma)? Avia, my tummy…", it was Romano who had been chosen to distract the old one, since he looked like Rome a lot.
"What is it, son?", she croaked with her worn out voice. The young Italian found her rather creepy.
"M-my tummy hurts… I don't know…"
"Let's have a look, shall we?", she got up and walked away with the boy.
Hispania and Franciae darted out from their hideouts as soon as it was possible and grabbed what they could carry, mostly bread and provisions that were easy to carry and would fill the belly nicely.
"Hey… look, wine. Shall we break the Amphorae? Then you won't have to go away.", the begging green eyes of Hispania were almost smashing Franciae's heart into small shards.
"….Hispania.. … You…", Franciae paused and looked into the direction of the door. Rome was standing there. "…!"
The boys fled into the shades and hoped that the old man had not seen them. They whispered anxiously with eyes wide open.
But the old man was drunk …again. And he had just been there to get another Amphora of red wine. After clumsily having found one that fitted his taste, he left the kitchen again.
The boys quickly returned to the children's dormitories and hid their treasures.
"That was a close one…", Hispania lowly said with a voice that still hid excitement. "I almost wet myself… wait.. I wetted myself!"
"Don't worry about that… I did too. We're baby nations, we can't hold it. Is why we wear diapers…."
"That's the last time I am the bait.", Romano hissed as he entered the dormitory.
"At least you don't need to change your diapers."
"Shh… this is embarrassing.", Franciae and Hispania were busy helping each other getting changed. Franciae had to admit that he was surprised that the other children of Rome had not woken up yet.
Actually, it was only possible to make a move as long as Rome was not in his house. Also, his guards and Servants had to be less alert. And how to do that? Right, a party had to be given. This time it was Sacrum Romanum (Lat.: Holy Roman (Empire)), who was unconsciously giving this occasion with his birthday party. There was a time between Rome going away to the Tavern or somewhere else and the time the children were still distracting the Servants and Guards. They just could not watch so many children.
"I'm sad you have to leave, big brother. …Is there really no other way?", Hispania was crying.
"Don't cry. …I promise we will see each other again… someday.", Franciae tried to smile. Even for him it was hard to say goodbye. Furthermore, he was looking into an uncertain future. There had been times in which he would have taken a step back from such a plan – and then cursing himself for not having the guts to actually do it. "We will see each other again. Promise."
The blonde boy also said to the others goodbye. For children they were surprisingly understanding. No one of them made a ruckus, told one of the adults to stop the blonde.
Carefully, not even looking back, the blonde made his way out of the house, out of the street.. and out of the city.
It was kind of strange to have gone so far. The blonde could have sworn to have never been this far in his life. He looked back at the city that was covered in some kind of steam cloud on which the evening sun danced.
"I have a long way to go…", he reminded himself softly and took on his journey. He was just wearing a white dress like shirt, a white short cape and a pair of sandals – the diaper underneath of course. And a small bag with provisions, a second diaper for to change, his favourite stuffed toy 'Mr. Fox' and a glass marble he had found somewhere.
The first night had been a disaster. Little Franciae had never been more scared in his life, or so he thought. He had found a hideout somewhere in the bushes and listened to every sound his environment made. He had heard of wild animals. Of course there would be no walls that would secure him. Also, it was too late to climb a tree. How was he supposed to sleep like this?
The small blonde child whimpered and braced itself.
In the next morning he had somehow found slumber. Like any child, he had given up at some point and just dozed off.
In the afternoon he woke up eventually, with a growling noise in his stomach and a burning thirst on his tongue. He devoured what he had brought with him until he was full. Sadly, there was nothing left either…
On a nearby trickle he quenched his thirst. He concluded that he should have at least brought some kind of reservoir for water with him. But certainly, he wouldn't return. Franciae was just too stubborn to do that.
His way proceeded up to the north. It became slightly, very slightly colder each day - but not as much as winter clothes were needed. Not yet anyway.
As he reached the next village, he was starving. Dark spots already danced in front of his eyes. He had not been able to find anything edible. It had been stupid to walk out without any preparation.
It was market day in that village when he came there. And he also saw other kids stealing food. They were causing huge chaos.
Franciae was just too hungry to care about stealing. How it was something uncalled for…
Also he knew he had to be fast.
He observed the scene quietly and stepped forward slowly.
"If I was you I wouldn't do that.", came a voice from above. It was a soldier who had not followed the others to catch the street children.
"I…I am so.. hungry."
"…", the soldier bought Franciae an apple. The boy but only stared to the man with questioning eyes. "Eat up! Go for it!"
"But…?"
"Eat up… before I change my mind. And then go home."
"…I don't have a home anymore. I ran away. And I don't think of returning.", the blonde boy took a great bite from the apple and munched. Okay… what if he was actually returning home? He had said that he didn't know who his mother was and blonde hair was uncommon in a place like this. What if his blonde mother in the north was waiting for him? He could only assume that it was like this.
"I still have a long way to go. One apple won't be enough."
"You naughty little… Go away!"
The soldier chased him off with his spear.
The blonde boy was near the edge of the city with no food left again. And he was still hungry. He even accused the apple of having made him even hungrier. Goddamnit!
He ran back. The guard was also still there. Annoying guy…
This was leading nowhere. The blonde knew that he had to be harder about this matter.
This time he dashed forward and grabbed two large loaves of bread – each for one hand.
As soon as he could, he stuffed them into his bag and ran outside the village. The guards and the other street children were chasing him, both groups wanting to take the food from him.
Suddenly, the strap of his one shoe snapped and he fell. He knew that it was over for him now.
But then the 'unfriendly' guard from earlier showed up and appeared like some knight in shining armour. As the man fended off the guys who had been chasing Franciae, the boy hurriedly got back onto his feet and kept running, out of the village and out of sight.
It was getting night again, but the boy contently nibbled on his loaf of bread. There was no cheese or bacon on it but he found it very delicious. This time he would save a little more from it.
"Mmh… wait a minute. Am I even going the right direction? …The sun… the sun sets in the west. And goes up on the east.", he pointed his finger into the sky and turned a little to correct his way. "I better keep going a little westward, then I can orient myself on the water. The people said there is water in the west. .. well, also in the east, but west is better."
He found it a little strange to talk to himself, but he started to feel lonely.
After a while he started to sing a song.
It was cold in the plains. He saw the eerie light of the moon shining down onto the fields of corn and there were these tall slim trees in rows. He had reached the water, the Mediterranean sea a while ago. He was on his way for weeks now.
Franciae had gotten used to the night now. He wasn't as scared about the noises, still he was careful. He knew that there could be wolves, wild dogs. One night he had been attacked by a group of such… He had wetted his pants and hurriedly climbed a tree. He was scared before dogs ever since, even when they would just want to play or sniff at his hand or something. He simply tried to avoid being close to dogs.
Also, he had lost a bit of his baby fat. He still got food and he got skilled in thievery. But his legs were short, he was still a baby nation after all.
He had gotten a little dull towards social life. He had hardly talked to anyone during these weeks. His eyes didn't shine like they used to in the beginning. The only idea that kept him moving forward was the thought of meeting the mother… Heck, he didn't even remember her face anymore.
At some point, there was a border. Soldiers stood around and there were small walls. The soldiers looked rather like a bunch of bold men, ready to throw a fight at any given time. The clothes they wore were colourful. They resembled roman clothes but covered a whole lot more of their bodies.
Franciae had to ask them. He had no clue where he was anymore. And a border could mean a new land, which was a good sign.
"E-excuse me… can you tell me where I am?", he asked two guys who had been absorbed in their talk for a while. They stopped their chat and looked at the boy with curiosity.
"…Where are you /from/? You look terrible, child. Don't your parents wonder where you are?"
"Really, you should go home."
"… Aren't you listening? Tell me where I am! I am…. I am looking for my mother. She is somewhere in a country up there. I have been… abducted…I could flee.", he said. On his journey he had thought a lot of how to put it, how to say what had happened to him.
"…This is Bourgogne. It's the realm of our King Gundobad."
"…Oh. Mmh…", the blonde child had to think a little. How would he get the information he was looking for?
"I-is there a country by the name Franciae?"
"No. …but Francia. It's in the north. King Gundobad gave his daughter to marry the King over there."
The blue eyes flashed. That was it! "Then I'll go there! Thank you, thanks a lot!"
With the knowledge of this, he was faster again for a while. Bourgogne was a large country, but still not as large as the way from Rome up to here had been.
When he came to the border to Francia, he was asked once again to go home to his parents. And if his family didn't worry over him.
"…I am home.", he said, expecting his mother to pop up somewhere.
Still, little Francia had no idea how to find his mother. He had seen himself in the mirror back at Rome's house sometimes. But the memory faded. He was sure that he'd find his mother when he tried to find someone with the same looks as he had. Also, now he saw blonde and brunette people more often than in the south.
He came to a fountain and looked at the water surface.
"Have you lost something, my son?"
"Looking at yourself for such a long time is a sin. It's pride. You have to be careful, you won't want to go to hell?"
It was a group of three monks that passed the fountain. Little Francia looked up.
"What is a sin?", he started to wash the dirt from his face and his feet. If it was for him he would have taken a bath. The monks kept watching him and he felt like he was doing something weird.
"Washing is also a bad thing. It makes you feel ill."
"…What? I bathed a thousand times and felt better afterwards.", the boy looked confused.
"A thousand times? You are exaggerating. …But what is your name? And where are you from? What are you doing here all alone?"
"So many questions… I don't think that it is your business. You're strangers.", Francia said.
"My name is Brother Benefacius."
"I am Brother Paupertas, and this is Brother Virtuos. You were right, it was impolite to not tell our names first…"
"..I am Francia."
The monks exchanged looks. Either way it was a strange 'name' for a child. Maybe the kid was nuts.
"My mother is somewhere, I am looking for her. …I was possibly taken away from her when I was younger. I don't remember her face, but I think she resembles me. This was why I was looking into the pool here."
Even for the monks it sounded reasonable.
"You can come with us… You look hungry.", Benefacius said. "We can find your mother together."
Later on he would debate with the other monks, how Francia was a lost child that didn't even know Christianity. The boy ate until he was full and then just wanted to sleep.
One of the monks carried him to a bed, as he had dozed off on the table.
On the next day, the monks told him about Jesus and how he had died for the sins of the people. The blonde was pretty interested and asked a lot of questions.
"Are you baptised?"
"No, what is that?"
"It's… it's when you become part of our community."
"Do I get to wear a brown robe then too? Do I have to get my hair cut?"
The monks had a round bald spot on the top of their heads.
"No, you don't have to…not yet, anyways. You can decide to become a monk later, when you are older."
"Hmm…So… this Jesus died and… he was the son of god? Which god?", Francia had grown up with a multitude of gods in the house of his father.
"Which god… tsk.", made brother Virtuos. "He is the /one god/. The one god that is for all of us…"
"There is only one god. And he had made all the earth and everything around you."
"…Just one?", the boy blinked, obviously confused.
"I don't know where you are from…I guess it would be best to tell you the whole story. We start by…"
"By Adam and Eve."
The monks told the small nation about the creation of the world by god. How the 'man' had rested at the 7th day. How the first people had been created and fallen into sin. The first tribes outside the Paradise starting off by two young men, Cain and Abel. Francia was confused how two males could possibly have created tribes without any women.
The monks didn't really have an answer to that.
Eventually, Jesus entered the scenery in the stories of the monks, and this time they told more about him. Like, how he had been baptised, how he had been reborn.
"I will think about this… Baptise… thing…It seems to be an important thing after all, right?", the young nation concluded.
Time passed by, and Francia not only learnt how to read and write. He also learnt how to work with numbers, how to calculate – though he had to admit that he was not very good at it for some reason. He learnt to play games like Chess. And next to Latin, which he had spoken so far, he learnt the local language, old French. On a lot of points it resembled Latin, but it also had influences from surrounding Countries.
However, then at some winter day, the child was enjoying running through the fluffy snow, he came to a lake. The lake was frozen and the surface was so smooth that he could see himself in there.
He hesitated and realised that he had forgotten about his mission that he wanted to see his dear mother. He started to cry.
It was not only because he had realised that he had failed. He also missed his siblings dearly. It hurt so bad…. That the boy never realised how the thin ice started to crack up and gave away beneath him.
The ice-cold water brought him back and he struggled to get back to the land. And he would have frozen to death when not one of the now slowly aging monks had brought him back inside and before the fireplace.
A long time, Francia was happy with nothing. He didn't want to eat, he didn't want to learn new things. When spring came, he didn't want to go outside.
Then, as he walked down the corridor, he heard news about King Clovis.
It made him think. He was a Nation, right? And a Nation was supposed to work along with… with the government. With a king or an emperor. He had heard old stories about Rome. How he had worked at the side of Caesar.
And Clovis was his boss, actually. It was his destiny as a nation to meet his king.
The little Blonde went to tell his monks, that had played a parental role in his life now for a long time. He hated having to leave them. But now that he had a heading, he had to follow it.
This time with a chariot, his journey continued.
At the king's court, it was rather difficult to get through to the king. But Francia was wearing his best white dress, a blue short cape over it this time, and nice shoes. His hair had grown quite long now and he took good care of it.
He somehow made his way to the king.
"Monsieur! …I am…", the king looked at him and the whole room – it was a large room with a lot of nobles in there – was quiet suddenly. Francia got nervous. "I am…Francia! I am the nation that you are ruling. Don't be fooled by my young looks. I am older than I look. From today on, I am at your service, your majesty."
The young kingdom bowed to his king.