There was a part of Prussia that wondered if he would ever be big enough to hold the sword they'd always kept above the mantle. He was small, though not weak, and it was everything but sized for someone like him. There wasn't really anything special about it. The sword was rather plain, save for the silver edged ribbon tied up the hilt, and it was dull from lack of use. The only reason Prussia wanted to use it was because it would be decisive proof that he'd grown into a strong man.
He glanced away from the sword and back to the blank book pages in front of him. He'd meant to do another diary entry recording all of his awesome exploits of the day, altered ever so slightly so they wouldn't be nearly as embarrassing as what actually happened, but after thinking of what he wanted to be, he just couldn't manage it. As awesome as he'd always believed he was and how much he felt the need to make it always sound just so, something about faking it didn't seem to set right. With a sigh, Prussia pushed the book away and laid his head on the desk.
"There's more weight to a sword than I figured," he muttered to himself, turning his head to the side to stare at the coveted sword once again. It glittered in the light of the fire, as if it were tempting him to try and take it now. For a moment, he thought about it. The sword could be easily taken down if he were tall enough to reach it but he barely came up to the top of the fireplace. If he couldn't even reach the mantle then there was no way he'd be able to take the sword from above it.
Prussia sat up and looked around the room. He could stand on a pile of books to reach it or maybe the chair he was sitting in. It would have been better if he had some sort of ladder or set of portable stairs, which would have been helpful for a lot more than just getting down a sword, but he couldn't remember ever seeing them in the house. He slid from the chair and started to drag it over to the fireplace. Finding he still couldn't reach it, he added books to it and stood carefully on them.
He brushed his hand over the hilt of the sword and curled a tiny hand around it. He tried to lift it from its place to find it was too heavy for him to get with only one hand. Prussia bit his lip and reached out with his other hand and pulled it up. He felt the books wobble beneath him and pulled back quickly, taking the heavy sword with him. He let out a soft cry as he and the books were thrown off balance and he fell off the side of the chair.
The sword clattered next to him when they hit the ground. He moved away from it to check on the scattered books and quickly clean up the mess before somebody came in to check on him. When everything was back in place, Prussia picked the sword up from the floor with a noticeable effort and held it up. The tip dipped and wavered despite his best efforts to hold it straight and he very carefully lowered it to the ground. The fact that he couldn't hold it up was a blow to his ego but he knew he wasn't going to be able to just yet.
"It just means I have to grow into it," he assured himself, looking down the length of it. "I'm just not as awesome as this huge sword wants me to be yet." He nodded, agreeing with himself as he always did, and glanced around to find a hiding place for the sword until he could discreetly get it back up to its resting place.
