((Thanks to Kunikohime Madoka Tanuki for your continued support through reviews! Everyone else, R&R PLEASE!
This took a lot of work...5 pages! I hope you enjoy.))
"Wyn!" Feliks yelled. His back hurt from bending down to catch her and his muscles were sore from chasing her, trying to catch her. Wyn Meier. He almost collapsed into the first chair that he saw.
He closed his eyes, sighing. Who knew that this one girl, scarcely seven, could be the death of Poland?
He heard a light twinkle that was his little girl's laugh, and she came flying into (not literally) Feliks's lap. With an oomph! he sat up, gasping, and opened his eyes.
Wyn had softly curling silver hair that mimicked the wisps of mist in the night air, and almost pallid skin almost as transparent as glass. Her eyes glittered with intelligence and mischief, and a will stronger than his own. Her motives would get her in trouble one day, and Feliks had already seen this.
"What a fabulous outfit," he remarked to Wyn. "I wonder, who made it?"
"You did, of course," she scoffed with a haughty air. She scratched the back of her neck, where a long line of buttons ended. Naturally, they were in the name of fashion, but Wyn absolutely loathed how she had to sit long enough for Feliks to button it for her. She could have been hunting, or eating, or reading, or writing. But as long as she was clutching her prized rapier (which she had begged for and Feliks gave in after an hour of her nonstop torture) she would sit still enough for him to dress her.
"And I did a, like, amazing job," Feliks said. "Why do you always have to-"
Knock. A single pound on the door broke his sentence. "Omigod, who the hell is that?! I was just about to tell you about all the work I put into-"
Knock. Another pound shook the frame of the door. Feliks scowled and Wyn slid off his lap.
"Dammit, hide, it'd better not be-"
The frame of the door shook and with another powerful knock, the door was blown off its hinges, and a huge man, at least a foot taller than Feliks, walked in calmly after a small boy. Six others filed into the small cottage after them, of varying height and gender, but all with the same hardened face and glittering, snakelike eyes as the man who had knocked down the door. Relatives, Wyn guessed. She watched them from the shadows of the hall on the right, wishing she could run and grab her rapier to challenge them.
"Oi, Feliks," the boy called to the man that stood angrily across from them. "You haven't been paying tribute."
Feliks shuddered nervously at the boy's ice-blue eyes and stern expression, mirroring exactly the one his father wore. "There is a famine, Holy Roman Empire, you can't possibly expect us to-"
"There will be no questions," the boy said sternly. Wyn was surprised by his mature expression in a boy barely years older than her. Feliks shook where he stood in fear. "Feliks, your tribute is due by the end of this week."
He surveyed the room and Wyn shrank back. But her silver hair almost glowed in the darkness, and one of the others came and grabbed her arm roughly. She cried out, and Poland went red. "What are you doing to her?! Let go of her!"
Wyn finally got a better look at the odd band that had invaded their peace so quickly and cruelly. The large man wore leather armor and rough clothing, and a sword and dagger were buckled at his hip. She yearned to test her skills, especially since she had since beat every one of Feliks's friends in swordsmanship. A large quiver and unstrung bow lay on his back, beaten up and marked in small rows of lines. He stood towering over Feliks, with long blond hair reaching to the small of his back, some in small braids.
The boy that was clearly threatening Feliks appeared taller than her with the help of a flat black hat rimmed in gold. His darker blond hair was almost covered by it, and his eyes were the same sharp blue as the man's. His black cape and pants were of fine material, and a fluffy lace-collared white shirt was buttoned up uncomfortably to his chin, much like Wyn's dress. His boots were made of black leather, and Wyn envied his ability to stride around easily.
The others behind the man were all taller than the boy, except for the girl. She wore a sweet expression and Wyn thought, I'd be friends with her. Her hair was blond and the same length as another boy's, whose features she shared. Both had eyes the color of summer pools, the kind that shifted between emerald and blue so easily they could only be described as, well, summer pools. You could tell the difference between them through their opposite frowns and smiles, respectively, and the girl wore a dark evergreen ribbon in her hair. The boy clutched a bow like it was his lifeline in his left hand and scowled at everything, pushing the girl behind him.
There was one more blond boy, taller than the others, who wore glasses. His stern expression matched that of the others, but his hair was clipped short and was slightly unruly. His eyes were the same shade as the man and the young boy's. I'd mix the three of them up in a second! Wyn thought.
He stood in front of another boy (were they all boys?!) that wore a snotty expression as well as glasses, with a shirt more elaborately decorated in lace but with dark brown hair. His eyes were violet, a shade of amethyst that Wyn liked. He looks like a bully…she thought nervously.
The strangest of the boys was one that wore his hair tied up in messy mixture of a bun and ponytail, with one long strand hanging down the left side of his face. If his hair was untied, Wyn would have guessed it was the same length as the man's. With eyes the color of spring pools, not summer, they were tinged with green the same way as lily pads that obscured the surface of the water. His eyes widened and his expression turned to one of – guilt? Acknowledgement? Mistakes? – at Wyn.
Wyn gaped at the last of the boys. Just like her, he had tousled hair and skin the color of a ghost, like a pale wispy cloud at the edge of a bright blue sky, compared to the other blond-haired, blue-eyed boys. He similarly stared back, ruby eyes meeting iridescent ones.
"Who's this? She looks well fed," the boy remarked. Wyn smacked his hand off with her free hand, drawing a curved dagger from underneath a flap of fabric on her black skirt.
"Go away and don't come back," she growled between her teeth.
"Get back. Now!" Feliks said with a hint of exasperation in his voice. He stepped forward to claim her, but she attempted slashing at the boy when another flew in the way. The blade caught the boy with the ponytail from his eyebrow to the middle of his cheek, blood gushing out, and Wyn was quite pleased at the damage she had done.
"Bruder (1)!" the violet-eyed, dark haired one exclaimed and leapt forward to help the one lying on the ground, groaning in pain. The others followed in succession, even the one threatening Feliks, producing fabric and needles and thread from seemingly nowhere. He was shadowed from view by the troupe, and the man turned on Wyn and Feliks.
Feliks whirled Wyn around in rage. "Do you have any idea what you just did?!"
The large blond man frowned deeply. "Ja (2), do you, girl?"
"I-…" Wyn started.
"That was your bruder," the man kept a calm, level voice, which frightened Wyn even more than any yelling.
"She doesn't have siblings! She was abandoned-" Feliks began to say in her defense, but was cut off.
"In the mouth of the wolf cave seven years ago. Ja, that was her bruder who placed her there when he couldn't feed her any longer, who I adopted when he wandered into the village sobbing after giving her up. Her bruder who she just blinded for possibly the rest of his life!"
Wyn stared in horror at the boy writhing in pain on the ground, being attended by a fury of attendants. "Who are you?"
"Ich bin Germania (3)," he said sternly. "People call me Günther Beilschmidt. These are my children."
The boy she had injured- her bruder- got up without a sound, not even a mew of pain. His eye and the wound had been sewn shut and he held a pad of fresh fabric to his wound, but his other eye immediately went to Wyn.
The others quickly lined up in a certain order, and Wyn was unsure why, but Günther quickly barked out a few orders in German, which she actually understood. "Antreten lassen! Nennen! (4)"
I only know this because I really am his sister, she shuddered at the thought, knowing their claim was true. Feliks put a hand on her shoulder protectively as they stared at the line of Germans before them.
The boy with the black coat went first, saluting Günther, who must have been his father. "Heil (5)! I am Holy Roman Empire."
"He doesn't have a regular name?" Wyn whispered to Feliks nervously, clawing at her skirt. Her dagger had dropped and she kicked it away.
"Just be respectful and nod," he whispered.
Wyn glared at the boy who had given her so much trouble and raised her chin at him with as much attitude as she could. "Delighted," she said, the word drawn out slowly across her teeth. From behind, Feliks kicked her.
"I'm Prussia. I am awesome, and you'll never defeat me in anything," the next said. He was the one that so closely resembled Wyn, and he noticed his ego was larger than life. He gave her a half-smile, charming her with a glance. "My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt."
Wyn blushed and let one corner of her mouth turn up before gritting her teeth again.
"Sweden. Berwald Oxenstierna." Said the tall blond with glasses. His voice was low, almost as low as Günther's.
"Hesse," her bruder mumbled. Wyn stared nervously at her toes. "My name is Christoph Meier."
"Bruder…" she began but Feliks shushed her, using a glare to imply that she was to wait until the last three had introduced themselves.
"My name is Roderich Edelstein, I am Austria," the violet-eyed, dark-haired one said. He used two fingers to push his glasses up. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"I am Switzerland and this is my sister Liechtenstein," the last boy said, introducing his sister and himself. "Don't you dare hurt her! My name is Vash Zwingli and this is Lili."
They all stared at her intently and Wyn realized she had to introduce herself. With a trembling breath, she spoke in an even tone, trying to convey that she wouldn't back down without a fight. "My name is Wyn Meier, and I am Silesia."
With a soft squeeze of her shoulder, Feliks looked at her with a certain softness in his usually cocky expression.
"Well, Wyn Meier, welcome to the Deutsch Familie (6)," Günther began, but was cut off by Feliks's cry of shock.
"She's my little girl! I raised her when you abandoned her! No, I will not let you take this girl!" he said with more fierceness than Wyn had ever heard from him, even when he spoke about clothes.
"Then we'll take her," Holy Roman Empire said snottily.
(1) Brother
(2) Yeah, Yes, (etc.)
(3) I am Germania.
(4) Line up! Names!
(5) Hail! (you know, like Heil Hitler, same concept)
(6) German family
Author's Note: ((I am sorry for some of the names, I understand there are other variations of spelling, but I chose the ones I liked best/saw the most often. The German is mostly from my knowledge but some is from Google Translate, tell me if it's wrong! Please!
READ AND REVIEW! I think that I will change the rating back to T in case my sister finds this...
How is it so far? PLEASE REVIEW! IT TAKES HARD WORK! Is Poland OOC or any of the characters (Silesia doesn't count)?
Especially since I took my CM Piano test this morning... -_- Advanced Level! And I managed to pump out almost 2000 words!
Next chapter soon :) I'm so addicted to writing this! Now REVIEW WHILE YOU WAIT! Thanks!))