Kingdoms of Men
Chapter One: Germany and the Romantics
The sun had blazed intensely all day over Italy's country, which had been in a drought for the last few months. Germany and France were were making their way to Italy's house discuss the current state of the European Union, as well as scold him for once again not properly preparing for the drought, as droughts are known to occur in his country from time to time.
As they walked up the old stone steps leading up to his house, they saw that a pizza delivery man with a fake-looking mustache was already waiting at the door.
"Who's that weirdo with the pedo mustache?" asked France.
"You would know pedo when you see him..." answered Germany, with an annoyed but stern look on his face.
"What? I am offended that you would think such things about me. Just because I have a love for all beautiful things, whatever their age, does not make me..." snapped France before being interrupted by the pizza man, who just walked up right in front of them.
"Eh, mama mia, pizzaria! Di-journo!" blurted the strange, nervous looking man. France and Germany just stared at him, making him feel even more uncomfortable. After a few awkward seconds of silence, the man continued.
"Eh, you two a-must a-be-a France and Germany! Well, Italy isn't a-home a-right now! So you two should just a-go away and a-come back another a-day..."
"Why are you speaking with a really bad Italian accent, aren't you an Italian?" inquired Germany.
"Uh! Er... hmmm..." mumbled the man, trying to come up with an answer. France, confused, but suddenly infatuated with the large, bushy mustache, reached out and began stroking it.
"Ah, it is silky smooth, like the skin of a beautiful -" "FRANCE, STOP IT THIS INSTANT!" shouted Germany, cutting him off before he could finish.
The startled France jerked his hand suddenly, knocking off the mustache, revealing that it was indeed fake. Germany and France watched the mustache fall until it hit the ground, then looked back up to see the face of Italy staring back at them.
Italy immediately started spazzing out and tried explaining to them what was going on, but just then the door to his house opened up, and his brother South Italy walked out. He walked up to Italy and stuffed a tomato in his mouth to get him to shut up, then he explained to them the situation.
"Alright look you assholes, my brother Italy has been a-freaking out all day because of this "meeting" you two have forced on him. Now I don't know what has him so freaked out, but I'm not going to let you two have your way with him..."
France raised his eyebrow and seemed to smirk slightly at the last comment, while Germany just face-palmed.
"Look, we have something important to discuss with your brother, and the sooner you let us speak with him the sooner we can leave. I promise it won't take very long. Now hand him over."
South Italy, while patting his downcast brother Italy, wasn't stirred. In truth, he didn't really care that much about Italy being upset, rather he was upset that the other major European nations were suddenly taking so much interest in him, and not himself.
"Look, why is it you keep inviting him to all the big meetings and fancy parties and shit, but you leave me out? I'm just as much a part of the whole of Italy as my brother! Whatever you have to say to him, you say to me from now on. And besides, I'm smarter than him and can make better decisions for the both of us than he can."
"Ugh, fine, if it's such a big deal than I guess we can let you in on this meeting, but if you piss me off I'll kick your ass out through the third story window of your brother's house. Verstehen?" conceded Germany, annoyed. Then he turned to Italy, who was still kind of moping around in the shade of the vine trees near his house.
"And you, why did you just dress up as a pizza man to trick us? If you didn't want to attend the meeting then you could have just said so... although we still probably would have forced you to go anyway."
Italy, still moping, slowly moved toward the group.
"Well, you see, uh... whenever you invite me to one of your EU meetings, (or any meeting for that matter), it's always because you want to force me to give you guys something..." explained Italy.
"Wow, that's not cute or funny at all," spoke another man who was coming up the steps to meet them. The other countries turned to see who it was, and it was Spain, with England following close behind.
"I was expecting something cute or funny from Italy, but I'm a little disappointed. Don't tell me you guys have really been treating him bad enough to take away his goofiness. I always liked that about him," continued Spain, with his usual warm, bumpkin manner.
"You don't have to worry about that," explained France, "he was just dressed up as a pedophile pizza man before you got here. He's still the same Italy that he's always been..."
Just then, France's gaze met England's with some fierceness.
"Ah, England. I see you've decided to come, for once. What, was America not giving you any attention so you decided to come here and see if any of us gorgeous romantic nations would give you some?" prodded France.
England immediately felt like exploding in British fury and whooping his ass, but he didn't want to waste time arguing with France all day.
"Ah, France. I see you've decided to come to yet another EU meeting. What, do you actually think that this will somehow make the other countries respect you again and make them see you as more than a total hoebag?"
France was visibly shocked and offended, and South Italy laughed loudly at England's comment.
"That's enough, France, England!" commanded Germany.
"Pft! You guys can kiss my arse. If I wanted I could wreck every single one of you, what with me having an actual military and all that. So suck on that, white stains," retorted England, with his usual English-flavored sourness.
He continued, "Anyway, I'm not going to your meeting. I was simply dropping off Spain, who was paying me handsomely to get him here on time. But I have my own appointments that I must tend to now."
And with that he turned, walked down the steps, and made his way to his handsome Rolls-Royce, parked just across the street from Italy's house.
"You call ME a whore? Fucking limey!" screamed France to England as he opened his car door to get in.
England simply gave him the finger and drove off.
Germany smacked France across the face. "Shut up, France. Save yourself from further embarrassment," he said solemnly.
"Well then," chimed in Spain to end the awkward situation, "We should probably begin the meeting, yes? Everyone is here. Well, except England, but he hardly ever comes to these kind of meetings."
Germany, visibly miffed at the way England told him off, agreed with Spain.
"Yes, you're right, everyone else that was invited is here, as well as South Italy. Now, this is technically an informal meeting, and that is why we are having it at Italy's house. However, I and France think that you will all find the subject of the meeting intriguing."
All of the others looked to Germany, and, except for Italy, were all interested in what he was saying. So they all made their way into Italy's house to begin the meeting.
Author's Notes: Ok so this is my first actual chapter to the story. The introduction was a little too weird but I won't change it because it's important to the story. Hope you enjoy it! :)
Also, "verstehen" = german word for "understand"
