World War One

Full Summery: Europe has been tense for the past fifty years with the rise of rival nations all competing for the same resources. Empires are built while others begin to wane. Rodriech wants to survive this new world that has emerged with his power, which is steadily declining, intact. Gilbert is harboring a grudge for the past century and intends to make good on his threats against Francis while making sure that everyone knows Germany is not to be messed with. Arthur and Francis are tired of fighting each other and know they could be stronger if they work together in this new century. And Ivan just wants to stop being the one everyone fears.

But it's 1914 and the fateful shots at Sarajevo have sparked a war that none of them were truly prepared for. Between the muddy trenches and the misjudgment of its length, this war will become one of the worst. These four years will be enough for all nations to truly become bitter and tired of war. During its length friendships, alliances, and relationships will be put to the test as tensions rise and empires fall, because ghosts aren't the only things that can haunt you.

Chapter One: June 27, 1914

Sarajevo, Austro-Hungarian Empire

His nose twitched as the sun hit it, waking Rodriech up slightly. Mumbling to himself though he rolled over to hold his wife Elizaveth only to find the space empty. He cracked one amethyst eye open, she never got up before him, she much preferred to lie around all morning in bed then to get up. They had responsibilities though, only on occasion could he indulge her in such pleasures. This was not his bedroom; it wasn't even a room in of his many houses. Sarajevo, he was visiting Gabrielo, the representative of the Serbians, a rowdy boy who had recently been loudly protesting the idea of one Serbian nation which would upset his empire's holding of Bosnia-Herzegovina. Rodriech was a bit afraid that the boy's ideas of nationalism would spread to the other regions under his control, he had worked hard for the past four hundred years to keep his empire together, first by helping the Holy Roman Empire and then with his own empire, it was really just part of what had been the Holy Roman Empire, nearly a hundred years ago. He would not let this boy ruin everything he had worked so hard on to keep together.

When this was all settled they could all take a trip to Italy, he had missed seeing the cheerful boy who had been raised in his household alongside the Holy Roman Empire. Feliciano's betrayal and subsequent reunification with his brother Lovino had broken Rodriech's heart. He was more or less used to the idea of a unified Italy now; they had been joined together for the past fifty years now. This was the first time the Italian peninsula was under one government since Roman Empire fell, something Rodriech only had hazy memories of, he had been so wild and savage back then. It was better not to dwell on such times.

Lazily he pushed the covers off of him, he had some meetings to attend to today, mostly with Gabrielo, if the boy would listen to him and his offers, there was no reason this cry for nationalism had to be met with violence. Rodriech would prefer to avoid that route if at all possible. Recently Russia had allied themselves with the Serbs for reasons that were hazy to Rodriech, something about being Slavs together. Rodriech was sure Ivan and Gabrielo had hardly met, Gabrielo being under the rule of Sadiq and before that Alexius before becoming his own country just to the south of his own empire. It all seemed rather silly to him, Gabrielo often pointed out this alliance to Rodreich whenever he met with the boy, but he was pretty sure that if push came to shove Gabrielo would be on his own, Ivan rarely cared for those that weren't his own. At least tomorrow was Sunday and that meant no meetings, at least not with Gabrielo. Tomorrow was saved for his own boss, well Franz Ferdinand wasn't his boss yet, but he would be one day, when Franz Joseph died.

Rodriech really didn't want Franz Ferdinand to come to Sarajevo; he felt it was too dangerous, too many revolutionaries in the city, but the man was insistent. Everything would go smoothly with the trip though, Rodriech was sure of it. The people wanted a country, yes, but it would be foolish of them to attack the heir to Austrian-Hungarian Empire. A small frown on his face, Rodriech began to grope around the nightstand for his thin, rectangular glasses. He didn't really want to think about anything going wrong with the Archduke's visit to Serbia, nothing would go wrong, everything would be fine. With a long sigh he swung his legs off the bed, it was taking him an awfully long time to get out of bed this morning, he noted to himself. He had a lot on his mind, felt uneasy all the sudden; he hoped it was just the lack of food in his stomach and the displeasure of having to go through these meetings with Gabrielo, again.

He picked his glasses up from the bedside table and slid them on his face. The world seemed a little less fuzzy now. He was one of the few nations unfortunate enough to have to wear spectacles, a human flaw in a person who could not always afford to be human. With a small groan he stood up and made his way over to the bathroom that was adjoined to his hotel room. He walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face; he needed to wake up, to stop being so consumed in thought today. These worries were unnecessary; they would only make him look older faster. A humorous thought, Rodriech had looked to be in his early twenties since the sixteenth century, he half-hazardly wondered if he would ever look any older or if he would die one day looking like a young man. It didn't matter; it wasn't like he was going to die anytime soon. His nation was stable. He walked away from the mirror, pushing aside any thoughts about dying and left the bathroom to find his clothes to wear today.

He straightened the cream cravat he wore as he looked at himself in the mirror; he was supposed to meet Gabrielo in an hour. He would have just enough time to eat breakfast before it would commence, well he would if he could keep his mind from floating all over the place again. He needed to stay focused on what was ahead of him today, not all these what ifs that seemed to float around in his head. Why was he back to thinking about the Holy Roman Empire again? He hadn't really thought about the boy in such a long time, Ludwig was a totally different person now, doing whatever Prussia told him to do. He knew it would be a bad day if he had to think about the albino shlampe before breakfast, he still didn't get on well with his old rival even if they were really his only ally. Technically Italy and the Ottoman Empire were allied with him as well, but the only one he knew he could truly count on was Germany. How times had changed.

"Mister Edelstein, can I get you anything else?" the waiter at the hotel's restaurant asked in nearly impeccable German. Rodriech shook his head absorbed in the apple streusel he had ordered for breakfast, the flakey pastry was one of his favorite breakfast dishes. Elizaveth would smack him with one of her frying pans if she saw this, muttering in Hungarian that he needed some protein to go with the sugary dish. An argument that had happened many times in the early days of their marriage when she finally felt she was on equal footing with him to criticize his eating habits.

"I am fine, thank you." He said glancing down at the newspaper in front of him. There wasn't anything new to report really, not today. Stocks were doing well, that was always a plus, Rodriech didn't need a bad economy to go along with this mysterious feeling of dread that had been inside of him since he woke up this morning. Perhaps he should cancel the Archduke's trip here, go back to Vienna and Prague where Elizaveth was waiting for him as well as a mountain of paperwork. No, no he couldn't do that, not when the Archduke was already on his way from the capital. He took a deep breath, paranoia would get him nowhere in the world, he was better than this. He glanced back down at the newspaper again and began to read a short article about something that was going on across the ocean in North America, foreign names swirled around in his head as he attempted to read it: Pancho Villa, Huerta. He doesn't really pay too much attention to things going on across the ocean in the Americas, he never had any colonies over there to worry about and now days Alfred kept mostly to himself, butting in every once in a while about keeping China open and what not, and the other major one over there- what was his name again- was still part of Great Britain so Rodriech often just lumped him in with whatever Arthur was doing.

London, England

This wasn't splendid isolation; this was madness Arthur decided as he stepped out of his study, Rajesh and Johannes were bashing each other up with wooden swords in the living room with Kyle egging them on from the sidelines, his koala clinging onto him. Honestly weren't they getting to be a little too old to be doing that? Leon was in the corner playing with more of those explosives he had, hadn't Arthur taken away those fireworks yesterday? There were pencil markings on his wall and papers scattered all over the floor. This was madness, not the house he ran properly, where were the other colonies at? Where was Matthew, he was supposed to be watching them? He almost retreated back into his study not wanting to deal with the mess, but he was the British Empire, the largest empire in the world and he was not going to be chased out of his home by some children. Rather rowdy children. "Matthew!" He called sharply, usually Matthew dwelled in small home in Ottawa across the ocean in his own domain of Canada, but the soft spoken young man was here for a gathering of the colonies and domain, all had come except for one, Wallace, the island dominion by Australia had been troublesome at best about coming to these things. He was rather independent now that Arthur had granted him some sense of autonomy.

"Help!" He heard Matthew's quiet voice from the nearby closet. What had those boys done? He really shouldn't refer to some of them as boys anymore Kyle and Rajesh were getting a bit too old for him to be calling them that, though one wouldn't know it by the way they behaved. He hurried over and opened the door to find the blond tied up inside the small room to a chair. "Arthur, I'm sorry, I just- Leon distracted me and then the next thing I knew I was being forced into this chair." He looked unhurt to Arthur's relief. These young ones though were getting out of hand.

"It's okay, Matthew." Arthur reassured as he untied him. "I'll deal with them now." Matthew grimaced slightly. What was that about? He was master of the house, the children all resided in it and it was him who should deal out punishment.

"You don't have to, Arthur, it's not that big of a deal." Matthew protested, but Arthur shook his head, he was going to deal with this. He would not tolerate this kind of behavior from his colonies. Bang! Arthur rushed back into the hall to find the source of the noise. Black powder covered the entire living room now and everyone in it.

"Leon Wang Kirkland!" Arthur shouted, the boy's face was all black and it looked as if he had no eyebrows left now, singed off by the explosives. Kyle's koala was no longer on the boy's back and was making loud squawking type noises from the nearby curtains while the boy was on his back laughing along with Rajesh and Johannes. Arthur could feel his blood pressure rising as he looked at the mess that had once been his orderly house. Why today of all days? Why did they have to decide to destroy the house today? He was about to go on a tour of Europe tomorrow, it would be his first time leaving the young colonies alone since the Boar Wars. Matthew silently stood behind the British Empire watching in shock. "All four of you will clean this mess up, you will wash every bit of black powder and pencil off the walls. You will then take your mess back up to your rooms where you will spend the rest of the night quietly thinking about what you have done or so help me God!" He growled at all of them. The boys instantly stopped laughing as Arthur started to yell and watched him with fear in their eyes. "Matthew," he said turning back to the Dominion of Canada, "can you watch them?" The blond nodded his curl in the front of his hair bobbing as he did so. "Good." And Arthur retreated back to his study.

What was wrong with these fiends? They were hellions, every one of them. He let out a huge huff as he sat down at his desk and looked at all the paperwork he still had left to do. He couldn't do this right now, he needed some tea. He pushed the chair away from the desk and walked towards his small stove in the room that he used for heating when it was cold out and as a place to warm water for tea. Had he been this bad at their age? Alfred certainly had, but at that time it had only been him and Matthew, and the Canadian was so quiet that Arthur had forgotten he was there sometimes. Arthur tried to think back to when he had been a young teen like these boys were, that had been when? He thought back to being invading by the Vikings, raids that often included Lukas and Mattias along with them. How painful some of those raids had been. Then fighting with Alfred the Great, pushing back the invaders. Ah yes, those had been the days. He smiled to himself thinking about his own youth, he had been a little wild himself back then. And then Francis' invasion in 1066, well Francis had helped partake in the invasion even if it really hadn't been his people invading; they were more Mattias's people then Francis'. And the crusades, who could forget those? Arthur hadn't partaken in the first two; he had been trying to keep peace and unity when the first one broke out. But he had gone with Richard the Lionheart to retake the Holy Lands on the Third Crusade, though now, looking back, he wished he had stayed in England.

The kettle whistled, pulling Arthur out of his reverence of the past, not he hadn't been like these hellions, not one bit. Everything he had done had been out of survival and self-preservation, nothing more, nothing less. The world had been different back then, less civilized as the one they lived in today. Arthur nodded in agreement with his thoughts as he poured the boiling water into a small cup and dunked the tea bag into the steamy water. And he was king of the world, the largest empire in history, the sun never set on his empire, it spanned from the east to the west. It was glorious. He smirked as he lifted the tea cup to his mouth after letting the tea leaves stoop in the water for a few minutes. He dominated over his brothers, the ones who said he was weak once and would never amount to anything. Well he was the master now. He settled back into his chair and looked over at the mirror that he kept mostly for decoration in the office. His straw colored hair and green eyes were fresh and clean, freckles light dotted his nose, and he'd had a lot more when he was younger. He looked powerful, no longer the frightened child who had hidden in the woods from his older brothers, running to Francis for help all the time. He would never be powerless like that ever again.

"Do you feel it?" He whirled his head around to see Francis standing in the door way of the study. The Frenchman looked relaxed as he leaned against the frame; he was dressed in a light blue suit, one that might look gaudy on anyone but this particular Frenchman. Long golden hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail to keep the hair out of his face.

"Get out, Francis; I don't have time for your games." Arthur snapped, "Why are you here anyway?" He must have some reason, their lands were close, but the English Channel prevented Francis from just walking in whenever he so pleased. The channel had kept many would be attackers out including one of Francis's former bosses, Napoleon.

"I am here to pick you up for your tour of Europe." Francis said with a smile as he stepped into the room. "What did the boys do this time, I saw Mattheiu giving them buckets filled with soap and water." He walked up behind the chair and put his hands on Arthur's shoulders and began to rub. "So tense mon cher."

Arthur let out a small moan of pleasure before answering Francis's question. "They drew all over the walls and one of Leon's explosives went off and black powder covered them." Arthur grumbled, but his grumbles only seemed to make Francis laugh. "I thought you weren't coming with me, something about being too busy."

"I changed my mind." Francis murmured into Arthur's ear as he pressed down a little harder on his shoulders working out the kinks in it. Such a delicate touch, Arthur relished in it, one of the few good things that had come out of his entente with Francis was their relationship. They no longer fought the way they used to, though Francis did annoy the hell out of him most of the time, and they were friendlier then before, very friendlier. Arthur had invited the man to come on the trip around Europe a few months back only to have the Frenchman decline him.

"What made you change your mind?" Arthur asked leaning into the back of his chair slightly, he wanted to turn around and look into the man's sparkling blue eyes, but the menstruation to his shoulders felt too nice to stop.

"Can't you feel it, Arthur? Something's going to happen." Arthur frowned, he felt the uneasiness in the back of his mind most of the day, but he had really hadn't paid it much thought till Francis said something and that uneasiness wouldn't go away now that it was out in the open.

St. Petersberg, Russia

A young lady, dressed very lavishly in a cream ball gown, stood in front of a white door, swaying on her feet as she knocked with a small giggle. "Ivan, are you in there with Mister Alfred?" she asked. With a groan Ivan sat up looking over at the blond still sleeping beside him, Anastasia had the worst timing.

"Da, Mister Jones is catching up on his sleep." Ivan called back, correcting the young lady. She wasn't supposed to refer to Alfred by his first name, but the youngest daughter of the Tsar cared little for formalities of any kind. She had been a troublesome young lady much to the displeasure of her nurses as a child. To Ivan she reminded him of the young blond nation of the United States of America; he enjoyed her playful personality and warm smile. He loved all of the Tsar's children, as he had loved all the ones of the Tsar's before him. Ivan loved children, how warm they were, how they were not frightened of him like some of the other nations were. Alfred had children, they were not truly the man's children, but he took care of them, they represented his states. He actually hadn't met the two youngest yet, the representation of Hawaii, her name was Lilo and the other was the representation of Alaska, a massive territory that bordered Alfred's brother Matthew rather than Alfred himself; Alfred didn't talk about him much only that he was a baby at the moment. Ivan wouldn't mind meeting him, but Alfred refused so Ivan didn't bring up the idea very often.

"Shush, Ivan." Alfred murmured rolling over and staring up at the Russian nation with his big blue orbs, he looked so tired. "You're so loud." Ivan merely snorted at the thought, Alfred was the loud one, everyone knew that.

"It's time to get up, Alfred." Ivan said gently, "There's a party tonight and we must make an appearance." Alfred muttered something into the pillow. "What was that?" He asked sweetly.

"I said, you have to make an appearance. I can stay here in bed and sleep." Alfred said grumpily. Ivan gave Alfred a small smirk before bending over and lazily kissing the American's lips. "Ivan." Alfred groaned as the Russian drew back but the American wanted to continue the kiss. He sat up trying to reach the Russian's lips to kiss them again ignoring the teasing smirk on Ivan's face.

"Get up, Alfred; we can continue that after the party if you come." Ivan said getting up off the bed and walking over to the wardrobe where his formal attire hung, freshly laundered and pressed, a dark blue military uniform with many different medals hanging off of it. He walked behind the paper divider, a gift from his sister Natalya, so that in her words 'no one can see your handsome body when you change.' A thoughtful gift despite her scary words that had come with it, he loved his sisters, he really did, but sometimes they were too much for him. Both of them had gone a vacation to the Black Sea for the month and so Ivan had decided that it was safe for him to invite Alfred over. Natalya would not take his relationship with Alfred well, she still wanted to marry him and brandished a knife at any nation that got too close.

"Can we continue now?" Alfred asked standing just beside the divider, his cream colored sleep shirt coming down to his mid thighs as Ivan pulled on the navy blue pants. He winked suggestively at the Russian nation who felt blood rush to two areas in his body.

"After, Alfred." Ivan said pushing away any thoughts he had about what was hidden underneath the cream colored cotton. He didn't need to imagine too much as he had seen it time and time again. "Get dressed." He said with a hearty laugh as he pulled his pants up the rest of the way. Alfred made a cute pout face that almost made Ivan want to give in to the American, but he wasn't sure they'd have enough time before the party started to finish up and get dressed again. It was just safer to wait. "Alfred."

"Fine, fine." Alfred said turning his back to Ivan and raising the sleep shirt over his head so that Ivan got a good look at his ass. Ivan hummed a little as he buttoned up his under shirt, an old Russian ballet. "Is that Swan Lake I hear?" Alfred teased from where he was changing by the bed.

"Perhaps, Fredeka, it is." Ivan chuckled as he called his lover by a private nickname that was only used when they were alone.

"Cute, Vanya." Alfred said, emphasizing the last word, a Russian nickname for someone named Ivan. It was slightly demeaning, but he never saw it that way when Alfred used it. Alfred wouldn't use it spitefully. Ivan walked out from behind the divider to watch Alfred button up his jacket, fumbling slightly with a few of the golden buttons emblazoned with the seal of the United States of America.

"Navy blue looks good on you." Ivan commented with a small smile as he offered the American his arm. "Shall we depart?" Alfred nodded, linking his arms with Ivan's and leaving the bedroom.

The nation of Russia lived in the Winter Palace in one of the many guest residents; his own quarters consisted of a bedroom, private parlor, and a sitting room as well as a balcony with a beautiful view of the gardens below. Ivan greatly enjoyed it, though he could have done without the man that lived down the hall from him. A gaunt man, in Ivan's opinion, with a horse like face and shaggy black hair, Rasputin who was also was strolling down the hall to the grand ball room where tonight's party was to be. Grigori Rasputin was the supposed healer of Alexi, the only son of Tsar Nicholas, but like many others Ivan believed Rasputin was more to the Tsarina then was let on. He was not overly fond of the man; in fact some might even claim that he was hostile. "Good evening, Ivan, who is this young man?" Rasputin asked with a smile, a smile that Ivan knew was hiding a villainous plot.

"I am Alfred Jones." Alfred said unhooking his arm from Ivan's. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you before." Alfred gave the man a warm smile that he didn't deserve, and offered a hand to shake. Ivan almost flinched when Rasputin took it; he didn't want that vile man touching his sunflower.

"I am-" Rasputin started but Ivan cut him off.

"He is Alexi's healer," Ivan said, "Grigori Rasputin." He took Alfred's hand wanting to lead him away from the other man. Alfred gave him a puzzling look.

"It was nice to meet you, Mister Rasputin." Alfred said as he allowed Ivan to lead him away from him. He stopped when they had turned off the main hall and pulled Ivan into a small hall that only servants really used.

"What was that, Ivan?" Alfred hissed, a bit of anger showing through his dark blue eyes. "I wouldn't have minded talking to him."

"He is a con man, Alfred. A dangerous man who has wormed his way into a position in the court through lies and trickery, I do not want him near you." Ivan said quickly. "I did not mean to frighten you." Alfred narrowed his eyes at Ivan, giving the other nation a small glare. Ivan knew that Alfred did not appreciate him dictating whom Alfred spoke to or restraining him in any manner. The American nation didn't listen to anyone, except perhaps his boss on occasion, not since the war between him and Arthur. Ivan liked his free spirited nature; he guessed it was one of the many things that had attracted him to the younger nation so much. And unlike many of the other European nations he didn't see Alfred as backwater. It came from his own isolation; he had been controlled for many years by the Mongols known as the Golden Hoard. He had kept the rest of Europe from really getting to know Ivan and Ivan from getting to know them. When he had emerged from his isolation, he was behind, everyone else seemed light years ahead of him with colonizing the New World and their beautiful paintings and their Enlightenment period, he had tried to adopt many of the idea through Peter the Great but still Arthur and Francis saw him as a threat, well they had up until about ten years ago when he had been humiliated defeated by that island nation to his east, the upstart late to the game Japan.

Kiku seemed nice and polite, Ivan was well aware that Alfred got along great with him as did Arthur and many other nations. But he and Kiku argued over land, the young man was greedy, he wanted as much land as he could get a hold of, and he didn't use conventional warfare either with his surprise attack at Port McArthur in China had been any indication of Kiku's blatant ignorance of conventional warfare. For now Ivan was content to ignore him, keeping trade to a minimum, but distantly respecting the young man's hunger for more. His invasion of Korea a few years back and now occupation had seemed to sate the island nation for now. Ivan guessed that the only good thing that had come out of his war with the nation ten years ago was that he now was in alliances with France and England, and that the two other nations didn't regard him as a threat. He didn't like to be threatening; he really would prefer to get along with everybody.

"Hello Tino and Toris." Ivan said as he entered the ballroom to see the other two nations standing near the doors talking. They weren't really nations anymore, but they had been at one point in their lives, now they were just regions of his own territory now. He didn't see Feliks, the slightly annoying blond nation that followed Toris around everywhere and often crossed dressed; it must have been time for him to go to Prussia's household.

"Hello Mr. Branginsky, Mr. Jones." Toris said giving a slight bow to both of them. Alfred waved Toris off and gave him a bright smile.

"You can just call me Alfred you know, none of this Mr. Jones stuff. We're both nations." Alfred said with a small laugh, Ivan sucked in a breath. He wouldn't contradict Alfred, not now; he was still irritated over the whole thing with Rasputin.

"Hello Mr. Branginsky." Tino muttered more darkly, he and Ivan had never gotten along. Some of the people who lived in the area that would one day make up Ivan's northwestern border had gone on many raids against the Finns when Finland had been its own country before and even after it fell under Swedish rule. He had often offered Tino a chance to come to his house before the Swedes gave him up in 1809. Since then Tino had been hostile, Ivan was aware of the blonde's love for the Swedish nation, a towering man by the name of Berwald, but there was nothing he could do for the smaller man, a tsar long ago had forbidden him from ever seeing Berwald again. A sad tale, Berwald had never really fought back about the treaty just allowed Tino to be taken from him because it was the will of his people. It was dangerous to fall in love as a country, things could change in the blink of an eye that could turn you against the very people you love, but there was something inherently human about them as well, as nations craved the love and comfort of others. Love and comfort was something Ivan was sure they were going to need soon, if the feeling in the pit of his stomach was anything to judge by.

Author's Note (the part of the story where the author writes a little note): Well I've hinted at this a few times in a few of my author's notes in other works. This is my big project that I have been working on. It's still the twenty-seventh here where I live so I felt apt to post this now. This story is being posted in commemorating the assassination of the Archduke which happened a hundred years ago tomorrow my time. I wanted to do something and so writing the war from the point of view of the nations seemed almost appropriate. I am hoping to have a chapter out every week, but I make no promises. I'm on break right now but I do have a busy work schedule and writing doesn't always happen when I want it to.

OC's and names that I've created:

Gabrielo: (Age 17) He represents what will become Yugosalavia but right now just the Serbian people. There are representation for all the countries who will come out of Yugoslavia when it breaks up but I felt that for this story that was too many characters to create and so I am sorry to anyone whom I might offend by just using Serbia.

Rajesh: (Age 15 or 16)India, I know Himaruya created an India in one of his Halloween comics (I believe) but he doesn't have a name so I found one.

Johannes: (Age 12 or 13) South Africa, his name is derived from the city Johannesburg. I deliberately didn't describe him because I wanted to leave him up to the reader's interpretation. Personally I think he is more of a mixed heritage with the Zulu tribe and the colonization, but that's my personal take.

Kyle: (Age 16 or 17) Australia, he doesn't have a name and I like Kyle.

Wallace: (Age 16 or 17) New Zealand, we don't actually see him but Arthur does mention him so I thought it apt to put him down here.

If you have any questions or concerns feel free to contact me by review or by private message. Please remember all flames are sacrificed to llama gods.