First off, thank you DestineyTot for that very kind review! :D It made me so happy. I wasn't expecting to get anything on this, so to those that faved and followed, thank you so much! I just hope I don't disappoint anyone ^^;

Also, I probably won't be updating this story so quickly again. I just got so inspired to write, so I got this finished up. This and the next one or two chapters kind of set up the world they live in, but I can keep that to a minimum if it's boring. Sorry if anyone seems OOC, I'm trying to imagine what their personalities would be like if shaped by this kind of situation. And I could be totally failing. I don't know -_-; btw, if anyone is curious, I can put how old everyone is in the pairing's list. Some of them are pretty young at the moment. The story goes for a while :|

-O-

Title: Built Upon the Snow
Author: La'Keera
Rating: M
Warnings: May contain violence, dark and/or suggestive themes and foul language
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, obviously


II: Meeting the Emperor

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"Don't you speak?" The silver-haired man tapped the tip of Alfred's nose with the evil instrument he held in his hand. The smile he wore looked unnatural on his face. There was just something…wrong about it. Though the scarf he wore obscured Alfred's vision of his face slightly. The scarf itself looked out of place with the rest of the man's outfit. It was old and tattered at the edges while everything else was pristine and shiny and trimmed with silver and gold.

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"His name is—"

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"I did not ask you." The man's violet gaze snapped to the young man who had brought them only briefly before returning to Alfred. "Come now, you had such bravado before. You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

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Alfred got the distinct impression he didn't. Especially with the way the man's gloved hand gripped tighter to the thing he held. "My name is Alfred." His gaze fell to the thin, black switch and he felt his pulse quicken. "W-what is that thing?"

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The man arched his eyebrow and swatted the top of his head with the thing in question hard enough to leave a light sting. "You will address me properly, little sunflower. Only then, if I chose to, will I answer any of your questions." Alfred's glare seemed to only amuse the man. "Do you want the answer to your question?"

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"Yes."

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The man continued watching him, as if waiting for something, rocking back on his heels lightly. After a minute of silence he let out an exasperated sigh. "And you looked like you might have been intelligent. So much for that." Seeing as that also had no response but a glare he clasped his hands behind his back and stood straight, towering over everybody present. "I've already told you how to address me. You will call me master and any questions, comments or statements directed at me must either begin or end with that word. Do you understand?" His tone sounded as if he had rehearsed the speech many times.

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"But you're not my mast—"

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The young man's hand clamped over his mouth before he could finish. "Please, excuse us, Master! I must get them cleaned up and the girl brought for you is very sick." The hand covering Alfred's mouth trembled, more so when the silver-haired man narrowed his eyes at them.

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"You bought a sick child for me?" The cold violet gaze turned to the girl. His eyes darkened when she hid behind the other adult. "What use do I have of a sick, cowardly little girl? I much prefer this one." He gave Alfred's cheek a light tap as he turned his attention back to him. "He is much more to my taste. And his hair is as golden as sunflower petals." He smiled again, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

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"Master, is it generally frowned upon for a personal servant to be the same gender as—"

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The silver-haired man placed the furry tip of his torture device to the other man's lips to silence him. "I do not care what is generally frowned upon. I do not have to answer to anyone but the Emperor. See to it that the flower is mine. Now I must be off." With one last glance at Alfred and a quick smile, that seemed more genuine but no less troubling, he placed a hat on his head and moved past them and headed toward the door.

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Alfred turned to watch him go but was immediately dragged toward the stairs. He didn't want to climb more stairs. His feet had thawed and now ached, unused to the shoes he wore. The steps were the same polished white marble as the rest of the floor and he could see his reflection on them. "What was that thing he had?"

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"It was a horse whip." The young man's response was curt and his grip on Alfred's wrist tightened to where it was almost painful. "Do us all a favor, lad. Don't talk back to the masters. You'll get punished for it and I'll get punished for being present." He brought the three of them to the baths and had them undress. "You two look filthy. When was the last time you had a bath?"

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Alfred tried to think of it, but it had been a while ago. Before winter, for certain. He couldn't even remember having a tub to bathe in, anyway. "A long time ago." His answer met with an irritated grunt and a cold cloth pressed to the inside of his arm. He tried to get away, but he was held firm.

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"Stop struggling! I don't have a lot of time to do this."

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"What's your name?" Mattie asked from the other end of tub. He and girl watched the struggle with apprehension, perhaps knowing their baths wouldn't be any more pleasant.

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"Arthur," the young man ground out as he pinned Alfred to the floor and placed his knee on the boy's chest to keep him from getting away. He continued his scrubbing even when Alfred howled and cried about how cold or rough it was. "We don't get warm water. You had best just get used to it."

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Alfred struggled nonetheless. The other two behaved much better and they were all dressed warmly in their new clothes by the time they left the room. They were taken down the stairs again and then further down into a chamber under ground level. The rooms there were small, just big enough for a little table on one side and a thin bed on the other. After a heated argument, Arthur finally consented to Alfred's demands that he and Mattie share a room.

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After he had taken care of the little girl, Arthur went to their room and tucked them in, a small smile on his face. "You two should be warm enough. If not, my room is at the end of the hall." He straightened and blew out a breath. He gave the room another glance around. "I don't think I've forgotten anything. Goodnight. You'll be meeting the Emperor tomorrow, so sleep tight." He patted their foreheads before blowing out the light and leaving them in the dark.

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Mattie went to sleep almost immediately but Alfred couldn't relax. He could hear people walking above his ceiling. There were distant voices echoing off the walls. They sounded eerie from where he lay. As if from another realm. He closed his eyes tight and tried to ignore them and will himself to sleep. Finally he settled for tightly holding on to Mattie.

.

-O-

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Alfred woke when the covers were yanked off and the cold air hit him without mercy. He peeked up at the figure standing over him, holding a lamp. It wasn't Arthur. It was someone with a sour expression on their face. "Who are—?"

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"Shut up and get up. I don't have all day." The boy placed the lamp on the table and tossed their clothes at them. He wasn't much older than Alfred, from the looks of it. He was dressed lightly and shivered visibly. "Quit staring at me and get dressed, dammit!"

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Alfred quickly grabbed his clothes and changed into them, though they were cold and the nightshirt was warm. Mattie whined quietly at the change, but obeyed as well. "So who are you?" He looked at the boy, watching him try in vain to warm up by rubbing his bare arms. He offered his jacket to the other. "Here." He could help him warm up and maybe he would be a little nicer.

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"You idiot, I can't wear that!"

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Maybe not. He pulled the jacket on and helped Mattie finish getting dressed. They climbed off the bed with a little difficulty because Mattie was so small. "Why are we up so early? Are you escaping?"

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"Heh, you think I would be here waking you up if I was escaping?" The boy snatched up the lamp and led them out of their room. There were other children in the hall, along with some adults. They were all rubbing their eyes, stretching or looking generally sleepy. Except the little girl who had come with them. She was nowhere to be seen. There was a light under her door and shadows passed by it a few times.

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He started to ask the nearest person if she was okay but the boy who woke them moved down the hall with the light and the group followed. Once everyone was up they moved to the first floor. Arthur was there, giving orders to everyone. When he spotted them he approached and offered his hand. "Alfred, come with me. Toris, you're in charge of training Matthew."

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"But I want Mattie to come with me."

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"Tough." Arthur took his hand and held him there even as Mattie was led away by a stranger. Alfred felt panic building in his chest as his little brother disappeared through a door. What if that man hurt Mattie and he wasn't there to help him? What if Mattie got scared? What if—

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"Don't worry, Alfred. He'll be fine. Toris is just like your brother. They'll get along splendidly." Arthur loosened his grip slightly and led him along, telling him the names of all the servants they passed. The boy who had woken them was named Lovino. He had a little brother, Feliciano, but they didn't seem to like each other very much. Alfred couldn't imagine not taking care of Mattie even for a moment. "You're going to be a personal servant, regardless of who your master is, so your training will be easier and harder than some of the others."

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"How can it be both?" He distracted himself while waiting in line for his breakfast by watching Lovino scrubbing away at the kitchen floor. "Why is he dressed like that? Isn't he cold?"

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"More than likely." Arthur looked at the boy in question and shook his head. "He has a bad temper and doesn't do as he's told, so he gets punished a lot. There are a lot worse things they could do to him." He turned back to the chef as his bowl was filled with something gross looking. "To answer your first question, your duties will be easier physically, but you will need to learn more. You'll be expected to act certain ways in certain situations and you'll always be on call for your master."

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Alfred really didn't want to be in that situation. He almost regretted making himself known to Arthur, but then he would have likely died cold, hungry and sick in that orphanage. He held his bowl up and nearly gagged at the slop put in it. He took a cautious bite and grimaced. It was bland tasting and grainy. "What is this?"

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"Your breakfast. Eat it." Arthur took him to a table and they ate quickly. In the middle of breakfast a man in black clothes and a white vest entered. Arthur stood immediately, but slowly returned to his seat at the stranger's grave shake of the head. He pushed his unfinished food away and rested his head in his hands, letting out an unsteady breath. "Finish your breakfast."

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"What happened?" Alfred forced himself to down the rest of the wretched food and placed his empty bowl under the half-full one.

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"You know that girl I bought along with you and your brother? Maria? Her fever got worse last night. That man before was the doctor." He looked over his hands at Alfred then folded his arms on the table. "Have you ever attended a funeral before?"

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Alfred slowly shook his head. "I've never known anyone who died." He could see her death troubled Arthur, so he followed him as he found people to dig in the frozen ground. Only the strongest could do it. Arthur was one of the men digging. He and two others used pickaxes to dig out a shallow grave and the girl's wrapped body was laid there. Alfred shivered from more than the cold as the icy dirt was shoveled onto the small figure.

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Arthur watched the burial sadly and spoke under his breath, probably not intending to be heard. But Alfred heard. "No reason to grieve. Any place is better than this."

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He was subjected to another bath afterwards, but trusted to wash himself this time. Once clean he was led down a long hallway. Mattie was there as well. He was munching on something that looked suspiciously like a cookie. "Where did you get that?"

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"A nice lady gave it to me." Mattie looked up at Toris. "What was her name again?"

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"Mistress Katyusha." Toris timidly met Arthur's disapproving look. "She insisted. Today is her birthday, you know. She had a big plate of them and just handed them out at random."

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"No fair. I want a cookie too." Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on whose side you're on—Alfred's fuss couldn't get started. The doors at the end of the hall opened to reveal a vast, stately throne room. In the throne sat a large, dark-haired man. He was busy signing something as they approached. Arthur's hand on Alfred's shoulder forced him down on his knees.

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"You must bow low to the Emperor, like all his subjects," Arthur whispered, kneeling and bowing his head with his right hand over his heart. When Alfred looked, Toris and Mattie were imitating him. He sighed and did his best to copy his pose, but it grew uncomfortable after a while. Still, they were not acknowledged. Just when he was about to shout at the emperor to notice them, his deep, gravelly voice came from above.

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"Are these the servants for my trinity? Can't you count?" As he was uncrossing his legs he purposely smacked Arthur in the side of the head with his booted foot. Hard. The boots looked almost like weapons themselves, covered with gold and silver studs. "What about Ivan? I believe I was clear when I said I wanted two boys and a girl."

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"The girl died this morning, Master Emperor." Arthur's face was pulled into a grimace. There were a few cuts on his temple that began to trickle blood down the side of his face. "We buried her this morning."

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"That does not excuse you. He is the spearhead. He is most important. Now go back into the city and get a suitable girl for my—"

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"That won't be necessary." The voice of the silver-haired man, whom Alfred now assumed was Ivan, came from behind them. He could hear the familiar clicking of the man's boots. The man knelt right beside him, bowing like the others before looking up at the Emperor. "There is no rush, as I will not possess my servant for a few years still. Besides…"

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Alfred gasped as he was pulled against the side of the man—Ivan—and held there even as he struggled. "I want this one."

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"That is a boy, you realize? What you request is inappropriate. I will not stop you from staking your claim, but know that I do not approve of it. You will need to pay the price for your choice. Do you want him that badly?" The Emperor raised one of his thick, dark brows and crossed his legs once again.

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Ivan glared back at the man and tightened his grip, causing Alfred to cough and squirm. His voice was a low growl when he spoke. "He is mine."


So, I'm either going to make a lot of short (1500 - 4500 words) chapters or fewer long (8000 - 10,000 words) chapters. Any preference?

PS, are people actually turned off by a woman being called 'lady'? Really? "Bias-free language has the same meaning and treats people with respect." Lady is respectful, isn't it? O.o

Also, ignore the little periods between paragraphs. FF's format is a puzzle to me and it's the only way I can make it look right. HTML is tricky stuff...