Chapter One
He could remember what had come to pass three years ago as clearly in his mind as if it were just yesterday, or moments ago. He closed his eyes - he could see Alice's green eyes, much like his own. He pulled a pillow over his head - her voice still rung in his ears. He gripped his hands to keep his own fingers from twitching so much; he felt her fingers twined with his.
He could remember the grey skies signaling the storm no one saw coming. Remember people's screams, Lianna repeatedly crying for them being separated by the people; the first time he picked up a sword; the weathered hands that separated him from his sister; the rain on the deck that washed the blood away; Vincent's face when he tried hiding his tears, the sound of his trembling voice, his face when he drew Lianna away and finally, Lianna's quiet, quiet voice as she told them: Alice was gone.
It was dark; no one wanted to talk about it, no one wanted to miss her but they all did. No one had the strength to stay in charge; Iain was too busy rebelling and Vincent was too depressed to try. He had to take up the house, as was his right - and it started with this last thing.
He looked into the distance, facing the open sea but not looking at the waves; his eyes were trained at the ships with the mighty sails headed to shore.
Antonio hung his sword, realizing for a moment how symbolic the moment was. He would be seeing his uncle for the first time. His father, having died when he was a little child, had once ruled the seas; once he was gone his uncle had taken up his father's mantle. And he would be invited upon his father's ship.
Later that day, he walked up into the big ship, wood and sails as big as clouds. With some difficulty he lifted himself up onto the deck, the only still thing in a sea of people preparing for a long journey. He looked around warily, but still curiously.
"Ah! The captain's nephew!" He jerked his head sharply to the source of the voice. That was it – he would be meeting his uncle.
That was when something barreled into him. It was all too fast, and he hit the floor, his reflexes unable to take action, and the next thing he knew was green eyes, staring into his. She mumbled something in a foreign tongue, and then checked herself, her long dark hair running over her bare shoulder. He felt his face grow hot at the sight of her pale skin, stuttering. "S-sen…"
She followed his gaze, and roughly yanked her sleeve up, pouting petulantly, not bothering to move from her position of all fours above him, staring him down. He swallowed.
"Querida Rosa, deja de intimidar mi sobrino!" A friendly but strong voice called out.
She didn't turn, she stood up and brushed her white cotton dress down, the exposed skin of her throat, collar bone and arms up to her elbows sparkling off his vision in the sunlight. She looked back at the owner of the voice with an eyebrow raised.
"Bienvenida, Antonio. Bienvenida."
Merci beaucoup for reading~ Hetalia or Arthur or Alice don't belong to me, neither does Antonio. But I wish he did. This is a continuation to a previous fanfiction I never finished, but the plot is the similar, just written better. Well, at least I hope so. Feedback is love, requests welcomed.