Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia!
A/N: Hey, everyone!
Acirema has something he would like to say. Go on, buddy. Thank you for the sweets, Miss Naru. They were very yummy. Isn't he just adorable! Yes, he is. I just hope he doesn't pick up on anymore of our naught jokes. What are you talking about, Miss Castor? Nothing you need to worry about. Yes, let's try and keep you as innocent as possible!
And because I forgot to do this in the first Author's Note . . .HI, DALA, MEDUSA, MILANA, NARU, MANTYKE, LYS, CAHA, LISHYLU, MISSY, CLIO, AND BACK! And a big welcome to GhostlyQueen9!
Enjoy! Please review. *Squeal*
China
Spain could not be depended on to do anything right in Portugal's book. The female nation's brother had caused far too many problems in his lifetime to change this firm belief. Therefore, Portugal took it upon herself before every meeting to check up on Spain and make sure he was doing his paperwork properly. This meant a trip to Spain's house with Slovakia who never wanted to go anywhere near the sunny nation.
Pushing the door open, Portugal made a face at the mess of her brother's house. There were dishes littering every flat surface and clothes covered the floor of the entryway. Portugal shoved the door open against an old leather jacket, causing the door to slam against the wall, and marched into the house. She ignored the shocked Slovakia staring at the mess. Her husband peeked around the door to see several dents in the wall made by the door and, most likely, Portugal herself.
"Espanha?" Portugal shouted down the empty hallway. "We here! You too lazy to come to door?"
"Is that really necessary?" Slovakia asked Portugal with a glare. He kicked a boot out of his way so he could shut the front door, an umbrella stand following close after.
"Sim," Portugal said, shrugging as if it were nothing. "He messy and lazy." She turned back around, wondering where her brother could possibly be in his large house.
"I can see the mess," Slovakia said. He looked around himself at the clothes and dishes. "So where's the hlupák? (fool?)"
"Como eu you saber? (How should I know?)" Portugal said with another shrug. "He siesta." She nearly screeched when a blonde head poked out of a doorway directly beside Slovakia. The male nation, unfortunately, did screech, and in a very unmanly way. The screech was accompanied by Slovakia leaping back and hitting his head against the wall. Swearing high and low, he glared at the grinning girl.
"Hola," Andorra said to Slovakia. "Com estàs?" She pulled back inside when Slovakia aimed a swing at her head. Portugal hurried forward before Slovakia could do any serious damage.
"Olá, Andorra," Portugal said, poking her head into the office. "He girly. You?"
"I couldn't be better," Andorra said over Slovakia's well-chosen swear words aimed at her. She flashed another grin at Portugal before skipping across the sunny office to a desk and seating herself on the edge. Spain was asleep in the office chair behind the desk, his head on a stack of papers.
"It's a good thing Germà (Brother) Espanya doesn't drool," Andorra snickered. "Or his boss would be furious." She crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee.
Slovakia stalked into the room after Portugal and snorted at the sight of Spain asleep at his desk. Ignoring her husband, Portugal walked around the desk and placed a hand on the back of the chair.
"Wakey, wakey," Portugal said, and she pressed down hard on the back of the chair and sent it crashing to the floor along with its occupant.
"Ay caramba!" Spain shouted as he bolted upright out of his sleep. He groaned, rubbing his now aching head. "¿Qué pasó? (What happened?)" He looked up to see Portugal and brightened up, withering when he saw Slovakia behind his sister. "Hola, Porty. Hola, Slovakia."
"Ahoj, hlupák," Slovakia greeted with a sniff.
"Olá, Espanha," Portugal said to her brother. "How long you sleep?" She crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow at her younger brother.
"I only slept for a few minutes," Spain laughed, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Slovakia rolled his eyes before turning his back on the siblings.
"Mentiroso, (Liar,)" Andorra sang happily. "You were asleep for six hours." She ignored Spain's furious glare.
"You no come to meeting?" Portugal asked, picking up a piece of paper to study it. They were importing reports from three years ago that still needed to be filed. Her brother could be such a sloth sometimes.
"No," Spain said. Standing up, he lifted the chair to its original position and plopped himself down in the worn seat. "My boss says I need to stay and finish my paperwork before I can attend the Eurasian meeting."
"I was supposed to keep him awake," Andorra said with a smile, ignoring yet another glare. "That's what the Bishop of Urgell told me to do."
"Hm," Portugal hummed as she picked up another piece of paper. It was Spain's financial position this time. "I no like tomatoes," she said, spotting an exporting report. "I no buy."
"¿Qué?" Spain demanded, bolting from his seat. Andorra was staring at Portugal in shock, having never seen a family member so readily abandon another. "How can you say that, Porty? You're one of my largest exports."
"You shouldn't be so dependent," Slovakia said from a corner where he was examining a battle axe. He glared at Spain over his shoulder. "It makes you weak." Spain made a face at him before turning back to Portugal with a desperate face.
"Por favor, Porty," he pleaded. "No hagas esto. (Don't do this.)"
"Por que não? (Why not?)" Portugal said with a shrug. "I no like them." She tossed the financial report back onto the desk with a lazy flick of her wrist.
"But what about your boss?" Spain asked hopefully. He grabbed Andorra by the upper arm when his younger sister tried to hop off the desk, no doubt to talk to Slovakia. "You have to get his permission before stopping any imports."
"Eh," Portugal said, shrugging again. "My boss go die in . . ." she trailed off as she wracked her brains for the word.
"Un forat? (A hole?)" Andorra offered in Catalan. Portugal gave her a blank look and she translated to Portuguese. "Um buraco."
"Sim," Portugal agreed. "He go die in um buraco."
"Porty!" Spain cried before letting his head fall to the desk with a hard thump that made Andorra wince.
"I tell my boss that every day," Slovakia said, now examining a painting of Spain from his conquistador days. "Then again." He pulled a face. "He only laughs and hugs me every time."
Portugal sighed in exasperation and used her hands to perch herself on the desk. "Puppy no sad," she said. Spain turned his head to look at her.
"There's so much paperwork, Porty," he whined. "How am I supposed to get this all done by the end of the day?"
"You just do it," Andorra said with a shrug. Portugal watched her hop of the desk and skip over to speak with Slovakia who, surprising is wife, seemed to warm up to the small nation.
"I buy," Portugal said as she turned back to Spain.
"¿Qué? Spain asked, perking up at that. Sometimes he reminded Portugal far too much of a puppy for his own good.
"If you done," Portugal said. She tapped a manicured fingernail on the scattered paperwork for emphasis. "Then I buy."
"Really?" Spain asked excitedly. He grabbed the nearest pen and pulled a random piece of paper forward. "Do you mean it?"
"Sim," Portugal said, and she shoved off from the desk. "I buy tomatoes and more."
"¡Está bien! (Okay!)" Spain said. He tapped the end of his pen on the large stack of papers. "I'll finish this and meet you in Iceland for the Eurasian meeting." He frowned when he heard Andorra's tinkling laugh followed by a deeper chuckle. Portugal turned to see her husband smiling fondly down at Andorra.
"We take her?" Portugal offered over her shoulder. "She gone, you work."
"Sí, that might be a good idea," Spain said as he continued to watch Andorra laugh at something Slovakia had said. "I think she put medicine in the water I drank a few hours ago. Maybe I shouldn't have let her hang out with Bauhinia yesterday."
"Ei?" Portugal asked, whipping around to glare at her brother and planting her hands on her hips. "You what?" Spain shrank away from his sister's fury.
"¿Qué?" he asked helplessly. "Andorra sked me if she could hang out with Bauhinia yesterday when she was in town and I said sí."
"She no safe?" Portugal said. "She . . . kaboom!"
Spain paled at the words. "She does like fireworks," he said softly. He continued to watch Andorra, as if imagining her holding a stick of dynamite. It wasn't such a difficult task, he and France having had to grab various explosives from Andorra throughout the years.
"We go now," Portugal said with sigh. "Before she find fire."
"Sí, sí, that would be a good idea," Spain said. He flinched when Andorra knocked his battle axe over on accident. "Cuidado, (Careful,) Andorra."
"Ho sento, germà, (Sorry, brother,)" Andorra said with a sweet smile to her brother. "Do you think Turkey is going to be at the meeting?" she asked hopefully, and Spain groaned, banging his head on the desk.
"That bastardo," Spain said into the mahogany. "I can't believe he beat France and me."
Portugal crossed the room to pat Andorra on the head. "He there," she said before leading Andorra from the room. "He be there." Slovakia shot Spain a dirty look before following his wife out of the office.
"What did I do?" Spain asked the empty room. Shaking his head, he picked up the pen again and looked back to the piled paperwork. This was going to be a long day.
o-o-{ }-o-o
Poland mumbled incoherent Polish words into the pillow her head was resting on and moved uncomfortably. Her hands were still handcuffed behind her back and the collar still locked around her throat. The leash trailed over the edge of the bed. Turning her head, Poland spotted her husband lying next to her. She kicked him lightly in the leg to get him to wake up.
"Hm?" Germany mumbled in his sleep. He shifted tiredly before rolling over with his back to Poland who made a face.
"Hey!" Poland shouted before delivering a well-aimed kick to Germany's exposed back. "I'm still, like, tied up." Germany groaned and rolled over to glare at Poland.
"Why is it you complain about every little thing when I'm trying to sleep?" he asked his wife.
"Because," Poland said simply. "You always, like, untie me afterward." She rattled the handcuffs behind her. "You forgot this time!"
"Um . . ." Germany said, blushing. Poland watched him look over his shoulder at his nightstand before propping himself up on an elbow to look at Poland's. "Um . . . Um . . ." Poland found herself shunted aside as Germany began to scrabble through the sheets. Ice flooded her stomach.
"Oh mój Boże!" Poland shrieked furiously. "You, like, lost the key!"
"I-I didn't lose it," Germanys aid quickly. He finally gave up on the sheets and leaned over the edge of the bed to peer under it. "I'm just not entirely sure where it is yet."
"This is all your fault!" Poland said, kicking Germany for the third time in the morning, this time on the rear end. Germany was sent over the bed, landing on his head hard.
"Ouch!" he shouted. "Poland," he said, popping up to glare at his wife. Poland stuck her tongue out at him.
"Your fault," she said.
"Look," Germany said to Poland. "I'll find the . . . key." Poland watched as the blood drained from his face and this time fury flooded her. That idiot.
"You totally forgot it," Poland said. "Didn't you?"
"Ja," Germany said in a hushed whisper. He stood up, pulling on a pair of pants as he began to wander around the room. Poland could see him thinking through the problem. Flopping over like a fish out of water, Poland tried to keep an eye on her husband. Handcuffs were out of the question from now on.
"Go back to your house," Poland ordered. "And, like, get it."
"Poland," Germany said with a groan. "We're in Iceland. I can't just go all the way back to my house to get a key for handcuffs."
"I don't care!" Poland huffed. "This is totally your fault, so go and get the damn key."
"Look, I know it's my fault," Germanys aid. He grabbed the bed sheets and draped them over Poland. "So I'll fix this. Just wait here." And with that he turned around before Poland could argue, grabbing his card key on the way out.
"Hey!" Poland shouted, struggling under the sheets as she tried to get them off her head. "Get back here!" There was no answer form Germany except for the door clicking locked once more. Poland froze, listening to the sounds of the quiet room. She could hear the nations next door arguing about something too loudly. From the sounds of it France was yelling at England about a doctor. Poland reminded herself to ask Lithuania about that later.
Poland's arms had just started falling asleep when she heard voices outside her door. She recognized Germany's deep tones just fine, but not the laughing male or stern female voices.
"You are so irresponsible, Germany," the female voice hissed at Poland's husband. "Not only for forgetting the key but for coming to ask my husband for help."
"Look, I couldn't go to Prussia," Germany snapped back. "He wouldn't let me live this one down for a century."
"And I will?" Poland finally recognized Albania's voice. No doubt the nation was snickering behind his voice. "I've got to give you credit though. The first time I tied him, her, it up it almost killed me." That meant the female voice was . . .
"It is a she!" Vietnam screeched at Albania, followed by a smack.
"Germany!" Poland screeched at the door, finally managing to get the sheets off her head. "Do not, like, let them in here!"
"Không," Vietnam snapped at someone. "You're not going back in there, you've done enough damage." Poland heard Germany begin to argue but Vietnam cut him off. "I said không. And neither are you, Albania."
"Hey, Vietnam," Albania said, his voice suddenly serious.
"Những gì?" Vietnam asked waspishly. "This better be good."
"I overheard China in the hallway," Albania told his wife. "He said he's planning to send some troops to North Vietnam. Something about regaining lost siblings." Poland frowned at the words; rotten liar.
"Well, then, go fix it," Vietnam told Albania hotly. Poland heard Germany snicker before the sound of flesh on flesh. "Shut it, moron."
"That's the thing," Albania said. "He was on his way to the airport, military uniform and everything. He was even holding a gun. He said he was going to personally lead the attack."
"Then go ground the plane by doing some techy weirdy thingy."
"Techy weirdy thingy?" Germany repeated, followed by an immediate smack again. "Ow, stop it!"
"Then don't be an idiot," Vietnam retorted. "And, husband," she said to Albania. "Don't try to trick me. You know I'm not as dense as Korea."
"Okay," Albania said. Poland could just imagine him shrugging. "Korea and France are going through your suitcase." Poland heard Vietnam mutter to herself in her mother language before there was a furious shriek followed by receding footsteps.
"KOREA, GET OUT OF MY STUFF!" Well, there went one ally.
"Wow," Germany said. "I didn't actually think that would work." Poland glared at the door, ready to blame him for everything going wrong today.
"Neither did I," Albania said. "I feel bad for Korea, though. Thanks for the cardkey, by the way." Poland heard Germany shout furiously before there was the sound of a key sliding and a click as the door unlocked.
"Gott verdammt, you kleptomaniac," Germany hissed. He shoved Albania aside and hurried into the room. He looked sheepishly at Poland. "Sorry it took so long to find someone. Usually I might ask America for help in this kind of situation."
Every nation knew America followed a very simple policy. Nevada hanging upside by her ankles from the railing? Don't ask. Massachusetts and New Jersey arrested because they tried to lick the Liberty Bell? Don't ask. The entire Midwest sprawled across the living room with bottles of liquor? Don't ask. Just. Don't. Ask.
America was usually a good guy to ask for help in a difficult situation if you didn't want any questions.
Ignoring this well-known fact about America, Poland glared at her husband from her place twisted in the sheets before planting her face in the pillow.
"I totally don't want to know."
"Ja," Germany said. "Let's just say tequila shots with Spain and Portugal turned out to be a very bad idea. Especially when Portugal found all the handcuffs." Poland's laugh was muffled into a choking noise by the pillow. She could heard Albania roaring in laughter behind her.
"I've got to remember that," Albania wheezed out.
"Nein, you won't," Germany said. The bed sank as Albania was shoved down beside Poland. "Now unlock those handcuffs and get out of here."
"Po, po," Albania said. Poland turned her head to see him pulling a small leather case out of his pocket. He opened the case and removed two small tools. He studied Poland for a few seconds before turning to Germany. "Could you try and keep her calm?" he asked Germany. "Poland kind of has a fear of restraints and strange people. She doesn't really know me all that well."
"Ja, sure," Germany said. He walked around the side of the bed and sat beside Poland, stroking her hair. "Mir leid, my dear."
"What are you, like, sorry for?" Poland snapped, turning her head to glare at Germany. She froze when she felt Albania begin to work on the handcuffs.
"I forgot the key," Germany said. He continued to stroke Poland's hair soothingly. "I'll make it up to you."
"Just don't let Vietnam see this," Albania said, twisting one of the tools. "She'll get ideas."
"I'm sure she knows all about this," Germany said. "Didn't you two first meet when I handcuffed you to her?"
"Um, po," Albania said. "She hit me, really hard."
"That was hilarious," Germany snickered. "I'll never forget the story about her drugging you with a kiss." Poland felt Albania pause in his work, she turned her head again to see his confused face.
"Çfarë? (What?)" Albania asked.
"You made Vietnam angry when the two of you were handcuffed together," Germany explained carefully. "So he kissed you with the drugged lipstick she had on."
"I, um, ah," Albania stuttered, his brow furrowing. "When was that?" he asked. "Are you sure it wasn't Ancient Egypt? She did that to me one time."
"Nein, it was Vietnam," Germany said. "Switzerland was with you when it happened."
"Switzerland," Albania said, closing his eyes and nodding. "Alright." He twisted the tool again and straightened up when the handcuffs unlocked with a click. Germany sighed in relief as Poland sat up, sheets wrapped tightly around herself, and rubbed her sore wrists. Pain like needles prickled at her fingers as the blood rushed back to her hands.
"Danke, Albania," he said. "Please don't tell my bruder."
"Um, po, sure," Albania, still looking confused. "He'd probably declare war on me."
"Ja, probably," Germany agreed. He moved off the hotel bed to open the door for Albania but was greeted by a fuming Vietnam.
"What is this?" Vietnam hissed at Albania, brandishing a colorful magazine at her husband. Poland watched the other female nation curiously.
"Um," Albania said as he studied the flying magazine. "I have a feeling it's not mine."
"It was in your suitcase," Vietnam said. She unfurled the magazine and Germany's eyes widened. Poland blushed brightly. It was a Playboy magazine. "Would you care to tell me where you go this, you sick bastard?"
"Cheers, Love," Albania said, bending forward to fold Vietnam over his shoulder. "You've been shanghaied."
"Không!" Vietnam screeched angrily as she hit Albania over the head with the magazine. "Không! You're not getting away with this, Albania." Albania grabbed the magazine and threw it at Germany who caught, instantly dropping the magazine as if it was on fire.
"Can you give that back to Switzerland, please?" Albania asked Germany. "And tell him I'm really sorry Liechtenstein heard that. But I don't need him interfering with my wife or endangering my life."
"Oh, I'll endanger your life, alright," Vietnam shrieked. "Just you wait, Albania, you're going to regret this all the way to New Year!" Her furious shouts disappeared as Albania marched away.
Poland sprawled back on the bed. "What was that about, like, making up?" she mumbled. Germany looked to her as he let the door swing shut behind him, but not before he heard two distinct sounds.
"Kesesese!"
"Ohonhonhon!"
o-o-{ }-o-o
Estonia was terrified. He didn't know where he was or what exactly was going on. The only thing he could remember was the sound of an engine piercing his drugged sleep and then waking up in this small room. Mauritania had entered his room not long after he'd woken up and given him some clothes to wear. The cotton shirt and pants were both a pale blue. He hadn't even had a chance whether or not he wanted to change into the clothes. His own had been taken away, though they'd left his glasses for him.
The lock on the door clicked and Estonia looked up from examining his hands. Algeria stood in the doorway, watching him carefully. Neither nation moved for a moment before Estonia turned his gaze back to his hands and Algeria moved into the room, dragging the chair with him and sitting down in it.
Estonia swallowed hard and folded his hands in his lap. He couldn't remember much about Algeria expect that he had been a French colony during Europe's invasion of Africa.
"What?" Algeria said simply.
"Nothing," Estonia said softly, too frightened to anger the African nation. It was the wrong thing to say.
Estonia was seized by the front of his shirt and thrown down on the bed, pinned on his stomach. He could feel Algeria's sharp knee pressing hard between his shoulder blades. His shirt was being brushed up and Estonia's heart pounded against his chest. He struggled hard against the African nation before hearing the telltale sign of rubber swishing through the air and there was a sharp smack on his bare back.
"I'm sorry!" Estonia yelped into the pillow, struggling harder. "I don't understand what you want from me! You frighten me!" He tensed for another blow that never came. Instead, Algeria was silent for several seconds before he shoved off Estonia. Scrambling up, Estonia pressed himself against the wall, staring at Algeria with wide eyes. The African nation was holding what looked like a riding crop in one hand.
"I scare you?" Algeria repeated, and Estonia tensed in fear.
"J-Jah," Estonia said quietly. He licked his lips nervously before continuing. "I-I don't know what you want from me. I don't know if you'll beat me for looking at you, o-or for saying the wrong thing." He watched Algeria fearfully, not sure how his captor would react to the information. But Algeria didn't look angry, only contemplative.
"I will beat you if you do not say what you think," Algeria said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers. Estonia shifted away from her slightly. "I never want any of the salves to think they must be kept silent. "I am not . . . human." The last word was spat with a strong distaste. Estonia gaped at the African nation, his stomach dropping. Had he heard him right? Slaves?
"I have a reason to why I brought you here," Algeria said. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. "I would like you to make these." He offered the paper to Estonia but the other nation didn't move from his position.
"Salve?" Estonia said softly, still stuck thinking about what Algeria had said just moments ago. "Y-You're going to sell me t-to someone?" He tensed when he saw Algeria close his eyes and sigh through his nose.
"Not yet," Algeria said, opening his eyes again. "Not until you are trained."
"Why would you do that?" Estonia asked. He twisted a fist in the sheets, terror flooding his stomach. "Slavery is illegal in almost every country in the UN."
"But not for the nations," Algeria said pointedly. "There are no laws pertaining to us about slavery."
"B-But . . ." Estonia thought through his words carefully before speaking. "It's wrong," he finally said. "You can't just enslave another nation. We have duties to our countries."
"And so the master will take on those duties," Algeria said. "He will see to it the nation is healthy and happy." Estonia ducked his head to hide the tears forming in his eyes. He clenched his eyes tight, thinking through his options.
"I don't have a choice, do I?" he asked softly.
"Naam, you do," Algeria replied. "You are given a choice."
"What are my choices?" Estonia shouted furiously at Algeria, looking up at his captor. "Either get sold and be happy or get beaten down and be sad?"
"Would you rather be beaten?" Algeria asked. "I know Angola is not a pleasant nation to be with."
"E-Ei," Estonia moaned. He slid sideways and wrapped his arms around his aching head. How had they not noticed Algeria doing this to Africa? "I don't want to be beaten, but I don't want to be sold."
"If you make these," Algeria said, and Estonia heard him shaking the piece of paper at him. "Then you may stay here and perhaps leave later." Estonia lifted one arm to peer at Algeria curiously. The African nation looked serious enough about his promise. Holding a shaking hand, Estonia gingerly took the paper and unfolded it.
"If you make those then you will not be sold," Algeria promised. "I know for a fact Niger is looking for assistance."
Estonia examined the written list of requests before speaking. "I'll need a computer," he said softly, looking up at Algeria. "For parts. I-I'll need to do some experimenting before I can make this work."
"Tunisia will be with you," Algeria said. He stood and moved to the door to open it, reveling a shorter nation standing in the doorway. The nation had been eyeing Estonia worriedly before he glanced fearfully at Algeria.
"F-Fine," Estonia mumbled. He folded the paper back up and tucked it carefully in his pocket.
"Take him to the computer room," Algeria ordered Tunisia. "La ted' lh 'ela shebkh alanetrent (Do not let him on the internet.)"
"Naam, Algeria," Tunisia muttered, and he stepped aside to allow Algeria to pass. Once his older brother had gone he turned back to look expectantly at Estonia.
Sliding off the bed, Estonia slowly made his way out of the room. Tunisia shut the door after him and began to lead the European nation through the hall. Estonia looked around as they walked. The walls were made of cement and emitted a cool air. They must have been deep underground. Looking at the back of Tunisia's head, Estonia couldn't help but wonder if the nation was like Tunisia and Mauritania. The other African nations had been kind to him, understanding.
"What is your name?" Tunisia suddenly asked over his shoulder, and Estonia blinked in surprise. The African nation's voice was softer and far lighter than his three brothers'.
"Estonia," Estonia replied. He turned his gaze to a wall as they walked. "Are you one of Algeria's brothers?" He unexpectedly collided with Tunisia's back, the African nation having stopped in the middle of the hall. "Oof." Estonia rubbed his forehead before stumbling back quickly. "Sorry! I didn't mean to run into you."
"Es-tonia?" Tunisia repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. Estonia could see the confusion on his face.
"Jah," Estonia said. "I'm over by Latvia, Lithuania, and Russia. I'm one of the Baltic States."
"Estonia," Tunisia repeated, clearer this time. "Latvia. Lithuania."
"I don't supposed you've gotten to meet many nations outside of Africa," Estonia said with a shrug. He waited for Tunisia to continue walking, but he didn't.
"La, I do not," Tunisia admitted. "You are the first in many years."
"I'm not surprised," Estonia muttered under his breath. He hadn't meant for Tunisia to hear him but the African nation cocked his head curiously.
"Why are you not surprised?" he asked.
"It's just," Estonia paused for a second before looking over his shoulder for Algeria. "Algeria doesn't seem like the kind of nation to let anyone go."
"He does not," Tunisia said. "He has never let anyone go." His shoulders slumped as though becoming heavy and Estonia felt pity for the African nation. "Not even us, his brothers." Estonia pursed his lips before gingerly placing a hand on Tunisia's shoulder.
"He can't keep us here forever," he said consolingly. "Someone's bound to notice."
"No one noticed Africa," Tunisia said. "We have all been enslaved for decades and no one noticed."
"I'm sorry for that, Tunisia," Estonia said softly. "I really am." Tunisia stared at him for a second before turning around and continuing on down the hall again.
"To answer your question, Estonia," he said over his shoulder. "Naam, I am Algeria's brother."
o-o-{ }-o-o
Norway tapped her fingers impatiently against the hotel counter as the receptionist searched the computer's database for her name: Eira Im. She had done her best to be patient with both the human and her husband but now she was just losing it. Either Korea needed to stop that annoying humming or he needed to go sit somewhere else. Norway couldn't remember the exact name of the song Korea was humming, but she was knew it was about an ice princess. Korea had once had the gall to comment Norway was just like the ice princess. He'd slept on the couch for a month.
"Eira," the young Icelandic would paused and looked up. "And Yong Soo Im?"
"Ja," Norway said quickly, wanting to get out of the hotel lobby. "That is us." She could see the confusion in the human's face as she looked between the pale Norwegian and the smiling Korean. The married couple got that look a lot.
"Balam-eun anjjog i soyongdol-i chineun pogpung cheoleom jijneun doenda, (The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside,)" Korea sang happily in his native tongue. "Cheongug eun naega nolyeog eul algo an-eulo gyesog hal su eobs-seubnida, da-ze. (Couldn't keep it in, Heaven knows I tried.)" Norway lost it at that point.
"I am going to kill you!" Norway shrieked, ignoring the poor receptionist as she leapt for her husband. She landed on him hard and proceeded to try and strangle him. Korea only laughed as he flailed under his wife.
"Non lasciare che trovi a, (Don't let them in,)" Italy sang happily from beside Denmark who glared at her. Hovedstaden wouldn't stop singing that song. "Non far vedere loro. (Don't let them see.)"
None of the nations milling around in the lobby noticed the front door of the hotel, Iceland staring around himself in horror. His gaze moved from the struggling Norway and Korea to the slightly panicking receptionist at the desk. Trying his best to ignore the nations, he marched over to the desk.
"Halló, Britta," Iceland said to his human friend with a sigh. "I hope Eira hasn't done anything to scare you?"
"Not at all," Britta said, giving a panicky laugh. "I'm kind of glad you got me this job, it's been quite exciting."
"Has it?" Iceland said, turning around to see various European and Asian nations sitting around in the lobby. His fox ears flicked in aggravation under his hat at the sight of India arguing loudly with England as to why he had to share a room with Scotland and Ireland. He didn't even bother to use their human names.
"I really wish they wouldn't do that," Iceland said with a sigh.
"Do what?" Britta asked. "Use their nation names?" Iceland looked at her over his shoulder. She was like many of the other Icelanders with her blonde hair and blue eyes.
"I knew I shouldn't have told you anything." Britta just giggled at his statement.
"Let it go!" Hong Kong's voice projected from the balcony on the second floor where she sat on a railing. Several humans and nations turned to watch her. "Let it go! Can't hold it back anymore!" Some of the humans looked confused at the outburst of song, others were more curious about the many nations standing around them,
"What is it going to take to get you to shut up?" Norway shrieked at Korea, giving up on strangling him.
"A kiss, da-ze!" Korea said happily, and China groaned. The ancient nation had long ago stopped trying to control his siblings. Especially when Korea had too much sugar.
"Let it go! Let it go!" Taiwan sang as she slid down a banister. "Turn my back and slam the door!"
"I don't care what they're going to say," Thailand sang with a sigh when Taiwan pinched him hard upon landing on the floor beside him.
"The cold never bothered me anyway," Russia finished with a cold smile that caused several nations to pause for a moment. Norway's eyebrow twitched and Iceland, recognizing the warning signs, paled.
"Guys," he started to shout. "Stop!" He had barely finished the word when Norway slammed a fist against the ground beside Korea's head and every nation suddenly found themselves standing on a patch of ice. Many of them slipped and fell.
"Denny!" Italy shrieked, grabbing her husband's jacket sleeve as she tried to stay up. "I can't stand!" Denmark grabbed Italy by the upper arm and tried to keep her steady while not slipping at the same time.
"Fanden, Norway!" Denmark bellowed at his sister. He stopped Italy from slipping but then slipped backward himself, pulling his wife down on top of himself.
Many of the humans in the hotel stood transfixed at the sight before them. Hong Kong glared at Iceland from where she and Taiwan were sprawled on the floor.
"This is all your fault," she said.
"Why it mine?" Iceland protested, but Hong Kong just stuck her tongue out at him. Sometimes he could never understand his girlfriend's mindset.
"Someone get Germany," a voice muttered. The nations looked around at the Icelanders who were milling about in curious confusion.
Used to the dangers of slipping, Russia made his way across the lobby and marched up the stairs to find Germany. It was several awkward minutes before a furious German bellow echoed down the hall. The shout caused the humans to shrink in fear, Prussia yelped and scrabbled on the ice to escape his furious bruder, Russia appeared quickly, flying down the stairs, and England leapt behind France.
An angry Germany was a scary Germany.
"What the hell is going on?" Germany roared as he thundered to the top of the stairs. He scanned the lobby with cold blue eyes, taking in the ice covered floor and slipping nations. "Who caused this?" Every finger pointed to Iceland who, had he not been wearing a hat or tucked his tail away, would have felt his fox appendages droop.
"I did not," Iceland protested weakly. "No – er – Eira did it."
"Emil," Germany groaned as he massaged his temples. "You need to stop pushing the blame onto other people. It won't help you in the long run." Hong Kong smirked at her boyfriend who felt his blood boil.
"But I didn't do it," Iceland smirked. "I'm not that good."
"Emil, please stop," Germany said. "Just go to your room, I'll come and talk to you later." He hurried down the stairs, careful as he walked across the ice. "In fact, I want all of you to return to your hotel rooms immediately." When no one moved immediately he flushed. "NOW!" There was the scampering of feet as nations hurried up the stairs and down icy halls. Italy had to eventually be picked up by Denmark because she just plain refused to try walking.
Iceland balled up his fists, trembling with rage. "This is my house," he said slowly through clenched teeth. "THIS IS MY HOUSE!"
"Iceland!" Britta cried and stumbled around the desk in time for a sheet of ice to cascade out from the nation and cover the entire room, floor to ceiling. Germany and Hong Kong barely ducked in time, though several Icelanders were coated in a thin sheet as they blinked in even more confusion.
"Icy," Hong Kong said quickly. She slipped her way to Iceland's side, taking her boyfriend's hand carefully in her own. It was burning hot. "Hey, hey," she cooed soothingly. "It's not your fault. I'm sorry I said it was. I shouldn't have."
Norway stood and brushed her skirts off before studying the humans around her. She had to hand it to Iceland, her brother's people were a hardy and curious bunch.
"You will not remember this," Norway eventually said, her voice layered thick in magic. "You will all return to your rooms and come out in an hour." Slowly, the Icelanders nodded as though hypnotized and began to make their way carefully across the ice.
"Icy?" Hong Kong asked Iceland. She massaged gently circled on the back of his burning hand. "Are you alright, Icy?"
"Don't touch me," Iceland mumbled, shrugging Hong Kong off. Britta cried out and pulled her hands away when she felt the nation's skin heat up even more. Stumbling across the ice, Iceland left the hotel quickly. Melting footsteps marked his path.
"Iceland!" Hong Kong shouted before following after the island nation. "Iceland, wait! I'm sorry!"
"Verdammt," Germany said, massaging his temples. He glared at the trembling Korea. "This is your fault, isn't it?"
"Y-Ye, da-ze," Korea said, tears forming in his eyes.
"It was mine," Norway interrupted, stepping in front of her husband. "I lost control of my temper. Korea was just having some fun."
"We need to be more careful when we're around humans," Germany said. He spared a glance for the door and sighed again. "Britta, please find the room number of Wang Yin. She'll probably be watching a movie or something, hopefully. Tell Yin to go look for her parents in the forest."
"Já, sir," Britta said. She hurried around the desk and began to tap away at the computer keys again.
"Norway, would you and Korea begin to search for Iceland?" Germany asked his cousin. "I feel Hong Kong and Bauhinia might be able to calm him down together, but I don't want to lose him and find him in a week when he's the hosting country."
"Of course," Norway said, pulling the moping Korea to his feet. "Korea knows all the best hiding places." This caused Korea to cheer up almost instantly.
"That's right," Korea said. "I now where Iceland's probably hiding. Let's go, da-ze!" Grabbing his wife by the wrist, he dragged her out of the hotel. He slipped four times on the ice and was whining by the final time.
"Um," Britta said, glancing after Norway. "She never got their room key."
"Just save it for when they get back," Germany sighed.
"Já, sir," Britta said. She had just turned back to her computer when she paused, remembering something. "Um, one of the bellboys asked me to give this to you." She held out an envelope for the nation. "He said you left it on the cart."
"Danke," Germany said, accepting the small envelope and opening it. The object inside caused a slow blush to creep up his face.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" Britta asked Germany worriedly.
"N-Nein," Germany said as he tucked the envelope into his back pocket. "Just a key I dropped."
o-o-{ }-o-o
Spain may have been a very laid-back and relaxed nation, but his present boss was not. The loud human was currently on speakerphone, his voice filling the large office, yelling at Spain about Portugal cutting all exports from them. The afternoon was throwing long shadows across the room, causing Spain to become tired despite the loud shout.
"Sí, sí," Spain told his boss, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Comprendo. Es sólo temporal. (I understand. It's only temporary.)"
"Él dijo que nunca exportar con nosotros otra vez, (He said he would never export with us again,)" Spain's boss ranted. "Él incluso cortó las importaciones a nosotros. Pensé que ella era su hermana. (He even cut imports to us. I thought she was your sister.)"
"Sí, lo es, (Yes, she is,)" Spain told his boss. "Es . . . complicada. (It's . . . complicated.)" He laid his head on his folded arms and exhaled hard, ready for a nap.
"Si ella es tu hermana luego controlarl, (If she's your sister then control her,)" Spain's boss said angrily. "Ella es una chica. (She's a girl.)"
"Eso sólo lo hace más difícil, (That only makes it harder,)" Spain said, his voice muffled by his arms. "Yo ya he ocupado de ello. No te preocupes por nada. (I've already taken care of it. Don't worry about it.)"
"Será mejor que tengas, (You better have,)" his boss snapped. "O me estoy que declara su hermana un territorio. (Or I'm declaring your sister a territory.)"
"¡Usted no puede hacer eso! (You can't do that!)" Spain said, bolting upright in surprise. "Si usted hace eso luego Eslovaquia declarará la guerra a nosotros y que traerá Checa. Rusia y sus hermanas, y los países bálticos se unirán a él, y nadie se me va a ayudar porque estarán todos piensan que soy un - un del douchebag. (If you do that then Slovakia will declare war on us and that will bring Czech with. Russia and his sisters, and the Baltics will join him, and no one will help me because they'll all think I'm a - a douchebag.)"
"Entonces tal vez debería aprender a luchar, (Then maybe you should learn to fight,)" Spain's boss said. "Especialmente si usted no va a terminar su trabajo. (Especially if you're not going to finish your work.)"
Spain gritted his teeth and fisted his hair in frustration. Why were humans so stupid sometimes? They always thought war solved the problem. Before he could say something he regretted, Spain grabbed the phone and slammed it down in the cradle, ending the call. No doubt he was going to hear about that tomorrow.
Whirling his chair around, Spain punched the wall hard. He both heard and felt the crack of his knuckles and he howled in pain, cradling his hand to his chest.
"You always did have a temper," a deep voice said from behind Spain and the nation froze, his heart pounding hard. He hadn't heard that voice in years but he would recognize it anywhere. Swallowing hard, Spain turned his chair around slowly.
"A-Algeria?" he asked in a bare whisper.
"Naam," Algeria said. He reclined in one of the wooden chairs on the other side of the desk, his elbows resting on the arms and his fingers steepled before him. He looked exactly as he had the last time Spain had seen him except for the three scars across his left eye.
Terror flooded Spain's stomach and he tightened the grip on his wrist. He could feel his own body screaming in protest at the treatment. But he couldn't pay attention to it, not with the rushing in his ears or the blood freezing in his veins. His eyes flicked around the room as he searched for an escape route.
"What is it that French bastard used to say?" Algeria asked as he watched Spain. "Ah, naam. A rabbit."
"Conejo, (Rabbit,)" Spain repeated softly, not paying attention to what he was saying. He drummed his fingers against his wrist, trying in vain to ignore both the growing pain in both his wrist and his head. "Conejito."
"Naam, un lapin," Algeria said with a slight smirk. "I can remember when I first met you. You were very small and hiding behind my sister." Spain could feel his lip trembling in fear. Algeria had been terrifying when he'd first met him, large and threatening. And then he'd wanted to spend a day with Spain. It was a day of which Spain had no memory. The pain in Spain's head had increased to a full-blown headache the nation couldn't ignore.
Algeria studied Spain quietly before leaning forward. "Let me see your hand," he said, holding out his own hands. When Spain shook his head, he repeated himself, enunciating every word carefully. "I said, give it to me." Trembling hard, Spain slowly offered his hand to the African nation.
Algeria took the hand in his own large pair. The moment their skin touched Spain could feel his headache grew worse. It was as if something was trying to escape from his skull. He watched as Algeria turned his hand over carefully, studying it.
"You have cracked your knuckles," Algeria finally said. "But they are not broken. You were lucky this time, Lapin."
"Please leave," Spain croaked, finally finding his voice. He yanked his hand free from Algeria with a painful jerk and clutched it to his chest again. "Now." The pain flared in his head, as though giving him a warning.
"Why do you want me to leave?" Algeria asked, not moving from his chair, though Spain saw him tense.
"You've come here to hurt me," Spain whispered. "J-Just like last time."
"That is not why you want me to leave," Algeria said, rising slowly from his chair. Spain shrank back in his chair fearfully. He barely had a moment to feel the breeze blow across the back of his neck before two pairs of hands seized him by the arms and shoved him forward out of the chair. He was slammed against the desk, pinned down in place by the strong hands.
"¿Qué estás haciendo? (What are you doing?)" Spain shouted helplessly, struggling against the hands holding in him place. "¿Quién es usted? (Who are you?)"
"I asked you why wanted me to leave," Algeria said slowly as he drew what looked like a rubber whip from his belt. "And you refused to tell me."
"¡Alto! (Stop!)" Spain shouted, shaking his head hard. He scrabbled at the desk with his good hands. Papers were sent flying across the room haphazardly. "¡Por favor! (Please!)" The headache, which had been in the front of his skull, had spread through his whole head.
Spain felt his pants legs being pushed up. A hand brushed down the smooth skin carefully before suddenly disappearing. Turning his head, Spain saw Algeria step back from him. His eyes widened at the sight of the rubber whip.
"Then answer me," Algeria said before there was a swish and pain erupted across the back of Spain's legs. "Why did you want me to leave?" Spain howled at both the pain in his legs and in his head. His head felt ready to explode the pain was so terrible. Spain keened, tears running down his cheeks.
"Make it go away," he begged. "¡Por favor!"
"Then answer me," Algeria said, bringing the rubber whip down once more, Spain howling at the pain. "Why did you want me to leave?" He watched as Spain's whole body tensed and the nation clenched his eyes shut. There was a moment of silence in the room before Spain relaxed and his eyes opened to reveal acidic green irises. The eyes shifted around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, finally landing on Algeria and filling with fear.
"We want you to leave," Conquistador whispered in a fearful tone. "Because you frighten us. You hurt us."
"Hello, Lioncaeu, (Lion cub,)" Algeria said, wrapping the whip up. There would be no need for the torture anymore, not with the docile personality free from its chains once more. Conquistador was quiet for several seconds before he finally spoke.
"Hola, Algeria," the alternate personality said. Algeria watched him flex his injured hand, his eyes moving down to it curiously. "He hurt us," the personality said.
"You hurt yourself," Algeria corrected. "Or should I say Lapin hurt you?" He had never been able to follow the mindset of Conquistador, only that it was extremely violent and all but impossible to control.
"He and we are one and the same," Conquistador told Algeria. "You may call him Lapin, but we will never have a name for him." His eyes flicked between Mauritanian and Niger, both nations looking nervous about this new situation.
"I see," Algeria said. He sat himself upon the arm of one of the chairs. "You say you want me to leave because I frighten you?" he asked.
"You frighten many people, Algeria," Conquistador told the African nation. "But us most of all. We will never forget what you did to us."
"Nor I," Algeria said. He stood and motioned to his brothers. "You answered my question, now we may leave." Mauritania and Niger relinquished their hold on Conquistador quickly. The alternate personality pushed himself upright, keeping his eyes downcast from Algeria.
"You will not hurt him?" he asked.
Algeria glanced over his shoulder. "I would never hurt what is mine," he said before leaving the room. He heard Niger urging the personality off the desk to follow them to the car. Algeria could still remember when Conquistador had been nothing more than a defensive mechanism of Spain. It had been content to attack only those who attempted to hurt Spain, allowing the nation to leave a peaceful life.
Algeria had been the one who destroyed that all.
A/N: What did you think? I hoped you liked it. (Should we tell him we weren't talking to him again? No, it would just break his heart.)
Miss Pollux. Yes, Acirema? Why are you hanging the noose you made from the ceiling? Because- She's decorating the office. . . . Oh. It's not a very pretty decoration. Yeah, don't worry, we're going to tie some flowers to it. Can I help? Sure! (I'll kill you, Castor! He's too cute not be innocent, so don't tell him about your plan. Fine!)
Andorra is controlled by both Spain and France. The co-princes are the president of France and Spanish bishop of Urgell. In WWI, Andorra declared war on Germany but never actually took part in the war. In WWII it stayed out but continued to be a hidden gateway between France and Spain for ammunition and the likes.
Please bear with us with the Arabic. We're trying our best, but it's Google translate. :P
Castor and I like to talk about our characters a lot together. I was telling Dala about them one day and she commented that the way we talked about the nations it was as if they had just knocked on the door and told us their story. In a way, they did. You can thank Poland for that!
MARCO?!