Thanks to AquaEclipse for reviewing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Chapter 67
Prussia groaned, rubbing his head as he sat up. There was a shrill ringing in his ears, and he tried to remember what had happened before he went to sleep. Or was knocked out. Judging by the pain in his head, he was inclined to say that it was the latter, but it didn't feel as though there was a specific point of impact.
"Teutonic Knights?" a familiar voice asked, making Prussia freeze.
It couldn't be. He hadn't heard that voice in a long time. Not since the owner died. Slowly, he turned to face the person, eyes widening in shock.
"Knights Templar," he whispered.
He was just as he remembered him: fluffy platinum blond hair and pale blue eyes. He also still wore the clothes of the Knights Templar. Looking down at himself, Prussia noticed that he was wearing his old Teutonic Knights uniform.
What happened?
"What are you doing down there?" Knights Templar asked, holding his hand out.
Prussia hesitated for a moment, before he accepted the hand, allowing his old friend to help him to his feet.
"What's going on?" Prussia asked.
"We managed to capture the Holy Land," Templar said. "And we'll make sure that the Muslims never reclaim it again."
Prussia was confused. He couldn't remember something like this ever happening. He followed after Templar, and soon, they arrived at a camp. He looked around, seeing knights from their two orders mingling together. This wasn't too odd. This had happened quite a few times. It was only near the end when things had soured.
Gilbert was reminded of that time, and he felt guilty. He had neglected his friend, and the other male had paid the price. He and France had tried to keep the other male alive for as long as possible, but it was all in vain. He supposed that that was actually when his friendship with France started, and what helped set him on the path to join Alvora.
Templar led him to a tent, and the moment he stepped inside, he froze. Tied with his hands behind his back in the centre was…
"David…" he whispered.
Israel lifted his head, and Prussia noted that the other looked so much younger than before. No, this never happened. Something was wrong.
"The Holy Land himself," Knights Templar said. "There's a way for us to bring the Crusades to an end, forever."
Prussia swallowed nervously, before he turned to the other.
"And what would that be?" he asked.
"We make sure that he never falls into the hands of the Muslims again," Knights Templar said, drawing his sword. "We kill him."
Prussia's eyes widened when he heard what his old friend planned on doing to his current friend, and when Knights Templar moved closer to Israel, Prussia moved to stand in the way.
"Stop!" Prussia called out.
"What's wrong?" Knights Templar asked, cocking his head to the side. "Are you saying that the great warmonger can't kill one person if it means ending a war?"
Prussia took a horrified step back. This was nothing like the friend that he had known. The person who spent his free time singing and praying. The person who felt that, regardless of language or nation, music could reach the hearts of anyone.
"You're not Bernard," Prussia whispered.
Knights Templar seemed to falter at those words, before he smirked dangerously.
"You're a bloodthirsty warmonger, Prussia," Templar said. "That's the real reason why you didn't stop your brother with his own crusade, and why you helped him. The truth is, you enjoy war. Which makes me question why you're in a group like Alvora."
To be honest, Prussia had wondered that as well. He knew that his comrades strived for peace, and that his history was stained with too much blood. He enjoyed combat too much. It was only after the Battle of Tannenberg that he calmed down. After he realised that he almost killed one of his future allies. An ally that was being recruited at that point in time, along with the other that would become his lover a few centuries later. He hadn't known about that, and had been chewed out by Romania for almost killing a potential new recruit.
It was at that point when it was decided that everyone would keep in contact and that everyone would know about everything that was happening to everyone.
He didn't think it was possible, but Templar's smirk seemed to grow wider.
"And that's not even getting into all the things you did to that lover of yours," Templar continued. "You've been bullying him since you were born. You tried to kill his best friend. You killed him."
"I never did anything like that!" Prussia snapped.
"You destroyed his identity. Because, of course, you couldn't allow any pagans to remain. Ironic, considering you lost the faith that compelled you to destroy his faith."
Prussia flinched at the reminder. That actually made him feel more horrible about the way things had been in the past. He knew that there was no forgiving any of that.
"Hypocrisy," Templar whispered. "That was what he said, wasn't it? What made you start to doubt your faith. You've always been a hypocrite. Here you are, a member of Alvora, when it is Requiem that you should thank for your existence."
Prussia flinched at those words.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded.
"You adopted the name of Prussia," Templar said. "That's not who you were born as. No, what you were born as… You abandoned your true identity. But it's not gone. The Teutonic Knights didn't suffer the same fate as the Knights Templar. They evolved. Adapted. And who allowed that to happen? They are devoted to the Holy See."
Prussia's breath hitched when he realised what Templar was trying to say. Vatican. A member of Requiem. Which meant…
"You think that you managed to survive because of East Germany," Templar said. "But, that's not true. The remnants of the Teutonic Knights are keeping you alive, and you can thank Requiem for that."
Those words made Prussia freeze. He was aware of the Teutonic Knights still being around, though nothing compared to their former glory. He'd disconnected from them a long time ago, around the same time he became Prussia. When he realised that he had a connection to a country, he took the opportunity. But that connection was Alvora's doing.
Unable to listen to this any longer, Prussia turned away, trying to see the other occupant of the tent. Israel had been very quiet. Except, when he turned around, it wasn't Israel staring at him.
It was Lithuania.
"You've been living a lie all this time," Knights Templar said. "It's time to set you free. And to do that, you need to kill him."
Prussia gasped at those words, and he trembled as Templar placed the sword in his hand. He refused to hurt his love – he'd done that enough times in the past. Instead, he rounded on Knights Templar, who disappeared.
He turned back to Lithuania, who was calmly looking at him. He realised too late that the scenery was growing dark.
"This is a dream," Prussia muttered. "Some sort of fucked up dream."
That had to be it. He remembered being in Requiem's brainwashing facility. They must have done something to his mind.
He tried to think of everything that he had learned about mental attacks, and only one solution came to mind. He closed his eyes and focused his mind on the small piece of hypnosis instilled a long time ago, in case something went wrong and they needed a bit of help.
"What the hell?!"
It was his own voice that he heard, and he opened his eyes to see a scene from long ago. His hypnosis to help him in bad times.
The day he met Portugal.
After Knights Templar's death, he'd gone to the different strongholds of his friend, paying a last tribute. It was on one such time when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he'd whipped around to yell at the person that invaded his privacy.
Portugal raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"Calm down," he said, a soothing smile on his face. "I was just curious to know who was in my land."
Prussia's past self – still the Teutonic Knights – blinked as he absorbed the information. He hadn't gone for his sword, choosing to raise his fist instead. But the fist was lowered now after realising who it was he was speaking to.
"Oh," Teutonic Knights said. "You're the nation?"
Portugal nodded.
"My name's Portugal," he introduced. "You're… The Teutonic Knights?"
Teutonic Knights nodded his head. It was easy to tell, seeing as he had his cloak on.
"Ja, that's me," he said.
Portugal looked beyond him to the stronghold.
"Doesn't that building belong to the Knights Templar?" he asked.
Teutonic Knights clenched his fist.
"It used to," he said. "But he died. France's king decided to destroy him. Forced his knights to make all sorts of false confessions before executing them. The Knights Templar disbanded, and… he died."
Portugal's expression turned sad, and he sat down.
"I see," he said. "It's horrible, don't you think? How the whims of humans can doom a nation."
Prussia recognised what Portugal was doing. By sitting on the ground, he's showing Teutonic Knights that he wasn't a threat. He was placing himself at his mercy. As it was, his past self's body language became more relaxed at the loss of threat.
"No kidding," Teutonic Knights said. "My friend had to die because a human didn't want to pay his debts."
Portugal nodded.
"I might not agree with all of this," he said, "but if there's one thing I agree about, it's that someone shouldn't die because of such a petty reason."
"…What did you mean when you said you don't agree?" Teutonic Knights asked. "What don't you agree about?"
Portugal smiled sardonically.
"The people shouldn't have to influence the mind and heart of the nation that personifies them," he said. "We're more than just them. Just because my people are Catholic doesn't mean that I have to be."
Prussia flinched at the expression on his own face. The expression one would wear when they thought they might have been facing the devil.
Prussia also belatedly realised what this encounter meant. Back then, Portugal was very selective of who knew about his faith, or rather, his lack of faith. It was very dangerous to do so. He would usually have Romania around to erase the memories of those he revealed it to whenever things went south. And they went south most of the time. But Romania wasn't there that day. Portugal was placing a lot of trust in him.
And that was why this was the memory that the hypnosis used. If Portugal had been human, he would have been killed for revealing this information. He had every right to fear him, and what he would do to him, but had proceeded anyway.
Trust. That was one of Alvora's foundations.
Teutonic Knights narrowed his eyes as he regarded the Iberian nation.
"Are you saying that you're a heretic?" he asked.
There was another sardonic chuckle.
"I guess you could say that," he said. "I just don't see how following an ideology that promotes hypocrisy could be true."
Teutonic Knights' eyes widened, and he reached for his sword.
"And how exactly are we hypocrites?" he demanded.
"You preach love while looking for reasons to hate," Portugal said. "You speak of humility while looking down on those who do not follow your ideals, or do not follow your ideals exactly the way you envision them. You speak of mercy without showing it to others. You demand respect while refusing to show it." Portugal looked up. "The Romans were at first reluctant to accept Christianity, calling it a dangerous cult. And look at what happened when the Christians gained power. The Romans were proven correct. Or are you saying that it's perfectly alright to force people to abandon their identities at the tip of a sword. 'Convert or die', isn't it? But what would your reactions be if it was the other way around?"
Teutonic Knights looked ready to argue, but Prussia knew from experience that the argument died in his throat. There was some part of him that recognised that there was truth in those words, even if he didn't want to admit it at that time.
"What if your friend didn't have to die?" Portugal suddenly asked.
"What are you talking about?" Teutonic Knights demanded.
"People like us… we die all the time because of the will of petty humans. As you said, your friend died because an important human didn't want to repay his debts. But, what if we could change that? What if our lives didn't lie in the hands of those younger than our toddlers? Tell me, how sure are you that you can continue living? That you wouldn't suffer the same fate as the Knights Templar? You're a religious military order as well, aren't you?"
Teutonic Knights tensed. A nerve had been struck. But instead of arousing the rage he would normally receive, Portugal made him stop and think.
"And can you honestly tell me that your conscience is alright with harming a fellow nation under the orders of a human?" Portugal asked.
Teutonic Knights flinched a bit at that. Yes, he might have been a warmonger, but some of the things he'd done made him feel uncomfortable.
"…That's a lot of thinking you've been doing, isn't it?" Teutonic Knights asked at last.
Portugal actually looked a bit amused by the response.
"Life is a game," he said. "But the rules are unfair. Humans make all the decisions, and we, the nations, have to live with the fallout. We're forced to attack our friends or family because someone decided that they want something that someone else has, or because their ego was bruised, or because the people of another nation don't follow the same cult. But what if we can change those rules? What if we didn't have to destroy those closest to us?"
He fixed his gaze on Teutonic Knights, who narrowed his eyes.
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?" he asked.
"Not alone," Portugal admitted. "I know that I would need allies for that. And I have a few. Allies, and friends."
He stood up, casually dusting himself off.
"If you're curious, you're welcome to follow me," Portugal said. "Though, you may want to wear something else. That could only cause problems."
"And where am I supposed to follow you?" Teutonic Knights demanded.
"On our own pilgrimage. Perhaps you'd like to hear what the Holy Land thinks about all of this fighting over him. I'm one of the few that can go in without problems. I've also got a few friends I'd like you to meet."
"And why should I go with you?"
"It's not should. It's if you want to."
This was the point which made all the difference: Portugal had made himself vulnerable. He'd given him enough reasons to want to attack him out of religious zeal. But still, he had given him the one thing that nations rarely received: his own choice. He could have attacked Portugal that day. He could have called on all the Teutonic Knights, as well as the Catholic nations around them, and launched an invasion on Portugal. He could have forced him to convert, or be utterly destroyed. But he chose not to. And Portugal realised it. He could see that Prussia was willing to follow his own mind, his own heart, and had revealed to him the secrets of Alvora.
The following few months had been spent on the road together, accompanied by Wales and Romania. Portugal felt that it was important that he realised that different opinions didn't mark one righteous and another wicked. Actions were more important than beliefs that could not be verified until death. And though he saw them grow uncomfortable a few times, none of them lost their tempers with him.
And it was through a lot of introspection that he realised that these three were among those that suffered the most from a religion meant to show that love was more powerful than anything else.
He'd travelled to the Holy Land – Israel – many times during the Crusades. But this was the first time he'd met the nation himself. No one had seen him during those wars. He might have turned the tide. But instead, he remained in hiding.
It was only the Alvora nations that knew where to find him.
Out of all the times he'd travelled to Israel, this was the pilgrimage that had the deepest impact on him.
…
Prussia opened his eyes, breathing sharply. He felt as though he had been underwater for hours.
"One of them is awake!" a voice exclaimed.
"Do you think he's…?"
Prussia looked to the side. He recalled having Vishnu and Ganesha around, but several other gods of the Hindu pantheon were gathered there as well. All of them looking at him like a ticking timebomb.
"What happened?" he asked, wincing as he felt a headache developing.
"First, tell us where your loyalties lie," Vishnu said.
Prussia frowned at the unusual question.
"I'm loyal to Alvora," he said. "Raj is one of my allies. Now, why are you asking me something like that?"
Ganesha sighed in relief.
"It doesn't appear as though he's lying," he said. "Perhaps what they've done to him gave him some form of immunity."
"What are you talking about?" Prussia asked.
"Your enemies launched an auditory assault," Vishnu explained. "A combination of magic and science. It's designed to lock their victims in a nightmare until they can be persuaded to join them."
Prussia's eyes widened, and he looked around, seeing his unconscious allies on the ground.
"What's going to happen to them?" he asked.
"They weren't exposed for long, so they might be able to escape the influence, like you did," Vishnu said. "Nidra is trying her best. But, if they can't break free, and they choose to remain loyal to your group… They might never wake up."
When reading up on Knights Templar, I noticed that St Bernard was their patron saint, so I felt that it would be fitting for the personification to have the same name.
And throughout this chapter, Within Temptation's 'The Truth Beneath the Rose' kept playing in my head (and I think it actually popped up on my playlist while I was writing).