HETALIA BELONGS TO HIDEKAZ HIMARUYA

805

Spania had fallen in the hands of the Moors and now it was time for them to cross the Pyrenees and conquer Europe. But France wasn't Spania. He wasn't going to let himself become a slave of the infidels without a fight. His emperor Charlemagne would not allow it. They both knew the continent depended on him stopping the invaders and so fought with all of their might.

It was hard. France couldn't act like this was a walk in the park. The Moorish army was formed by the best of the best. For a moment, France thought the enemy would set foot on his beloved land after all...

If it wasn't for the inhabitants of the valley, it was highly possible they reached his territory.

Men who had seen their country, Spania, falling in the hands of the enemy due to the little resistance and weakness of their rulers and were not going to accept the heathens getting into their territory. They fought valiantly to the last breath, with everything they had, and so France gladly assisted and protected them. With their conjoined forces, they managed to repel them.

France met the leaders of this courageous location to shake their hands and thank them for their assistance.

"From now on, you will be under my personal protection."

"And as a reward for your feat," Charlemagne added, "I hereby grant you a charter for-"

A breeze shook France's hair. He suddenly felt this weird sensation inside his chest...A je ne sais quoi. He turned his head towards the soil, to the grass carpeted with red and yellow leaves. A pile which shook before their very eyes, at the same time a strange howl, like a tiny cat or a mouse, resounded. France knelt in front of it and shook the leaves to reveal what was underneath. He took it in his arms with delicacy before the amazed look of everyone present.

A baby! A baby girl!

"What is it?" Charlesmagne asked, as stupefied as the rest.

France smirked. "You just created a nation."

The baby received the name of Andorra, after the Biblical city of Endor, tomb of the enemies of God's people.

She was taken under France's wing, and he experienced from the first time in his life what being a dad was like. He was young back then but was starting to think he was fit for caring for others. He wasn't bad at all, he thought. Andorra laughed at his petting, smiled for no more reason than his pleasure, returned every kiss he gave her. He started seeing himself as a Papa. In a way...Yes, he was her Papa, and so he taught Andorra to call him.

But Charlemagne died in 840 and his children fought for the control of France. There was a distribution of the land in three parts, one for each of them—something nations usually described as an exhausting and hurtful process. The fragmentation made his energy disperse, as nobility gained power against a weakened monarchy. In this state, it was impossible to take care of a child and so had to look for someone who could give Andorra what she needed. That someone had to be Spania, now called by his new rulers Al-Andalus. He was the closest geographically, and his Christian lords, pushed to the North by the invaders, would care for her well-being.

From the very moment Al-Andalus was given that precious task, he fell in love with her.

"It was a matter of justice that she came to me." He said. "Her people are mine. We've got the same blood. She's my daughter in a way."

The child had spent so much time with France she didn't understand his language but with persistence and a lot of love he managed to teach her and be able to communicate with her. He was also young at the time, and could keep up with her games. One of his favorite pastimes was hearing her babble. He could barely escape the control of the emir, the prince became zealous of his whereabouts, so he left her in the hands of the bishop-count of Urgell. He would instruct, teach her Christian values and protect her. In order to assist him in the protection of Andorra's integrity against possible invaders, Al-Andalus convinced the lord of Caboet to provide his assistance.

Thanks to his efforts and the help of some brave and loyal messengers, Al-Andalus could send letters to her, telling her he loved her in spite of the obstacles in the way and would hug and kiss her bunches when he managed to escape, something he often tried and sometimes succeeded.

But France loved her too and also held cherished memories of her company. And so, when the house of Foix acquired the estate of Caboet through marriage, he thought he had the right to have her back.

"I am responsible for her existence!"

"And she's got my blood!"

"Of course she doesn't! Your blood is contaminated by these Jews and Moors your house is infested with, and hers is as pure as mine!"

"What did you say?!"

"You heard it!"

Little Andorra watched from a crack of the door how the two men she loved the most in the world, Papa and Papá, fought. The nice words, the smiles, the games, all were gone. She trembled at the things they said to each other, the threats, the feinted physical fights, the long periods without talking to each other.

"I thought you were friends." She said to Al-Andalus.

"Yeah, I thought so too..." He replied with a frown on his face and a muttering voice.

She didn't understand why their relationship resented—weren't they friends from the times they both were Rome's provinces? In any case, she felt awful, because she was aware this was because of her.

1278

France and Al-Andalus, now Spain, in the same room. Andorra felt nervous. She sat very rigid, almost unnatural for a child.

"Andorra, tell this conceited jerk you like it here with me." Spain told her.

"Don't intimidate her." France sneered at Spain. "Let her speak her mind and say she misses me and wants to be back into my family. Right, bijou?"

"You're dreaming."

"Shut up, you idiot."

"Make me!"

"Both are true." Andorra's little voice interrupted them.

Spain and France were already grabbing each other when they stopped and looked at Andorra.

"I like it here with Spain, and I also miss France. I love you both, Papa and Papá."

What to do now? They couldn't keep bothering their beloved child like this, so, in the end, they decided to opt for a Solomonic solution. Not cutting the child in half, of course—which part each of them receive would receive would create a new controversy. No, they could take care of her...together. Half of the year, she would be with France; the other, with Spain.

This was satisfactory for Andorra. She didn't need to lose a dad. Most children just had one and she had two who adored her and showered her with attention and gifts. She learned from both of them, became trilingual, both protected her from danger.

But it never was for them two.

They started to leave their youth behind. It was stripped from them battle after battle, because one had to leave softness and games behind and become tough and strong in order to survive in a cruel world. Their instincts of getting as many resources and land possible to prosper kicked in.

Spain started conquering others. France desired what he had. Spain didn't just want to defeat him to protect his possessions: he needed to humiliate him and send him home so bruised he couldn't leave the bed in a thousand years. France completed with awful rumors what he couldn't do in the battlefield, eroding Spain's reputation slowly, discredited him. Spain responded with the sword.

And Andorra was trapped in the crossfire.

1808

France claimed he was Spain's friend, and so would never hurt him. He had signed a treaty of peace. If his troops were in the peninsula, it was because he had a quarrel with Portugal he wanted to settle once and for all. But Andorra had never seen a friend do the things France did in Spain's house.

Fights with the locals due to the alleged rudeness of the soldiers were frequent. Some women claimed the French dishonored them. Andorra didn't know if that was true, only heard what people said in the streets. What is true is that she started seeing in France's house many artistic objects and paintings which used to be in Spain's before.

There came a moment when Andorra had no doubts supposing France abused Spain's hospitality, when she saw the map France and Bonaparte had been designing. According to this map, Catalonia and her would become French departments.

Spain rose in arms against France, his patience ending when he saw his monarchs departing towards French land and France imposing him Napoleon's brother José. Rumors said Spain fought like a beast, rivers of blood ran in the streets. France didn't hesitate ordering the execution of everyone resisting—it didn't matter if they were women, children or elder.

"Andorra will be better off with me!" France claimed.

"You will have to steal her from my cold, dead hands!" Spain responded.

Again they were fighting a ruthless battle, and again she was between the two of them...Again she had to tend the wounds of the men who brought her up, caused by the other.

After a four-year war which Europe contemplated with great attention, a war which caused so much suffering and destruction, France was sent home sore, his precious long hair cut by the victors, and without his prize. Spain watched him go with that look full of sadistic satisfaction and great scars underneath all winners had.

"That's what he gets for touching what's not his..." He said, patting Andorra's head.

Andorra felt happy, because she didn't want to become a department—but she was sad at the same time, because she felt immense pity for France.

These two conflicting feelings ate her.

1933

There came a moment when Andorra couldn't take it any more.

"I don't want to be anyone's colony."

Both Spain and France looked at her when she said this like one looks a teenager when they are throwing a tantrum, because, after all, that was precisely what Andorra was: a teenager, a grown-up little girl who knew nothing. Both smiled condescendingly, patted her head and humored her with silly, empty words. Of course they didn't believe a word she said before the League of Nations. After the meeting she saw them both talking to the leaders excusing her silliness. She was just a child, you know. Surely Catalonia had been filling her head with stupid ideas of independence, or perhaps the other was turning her against him.

Andorra had to prove she meant every word she said. She was the head of all protests in her territory, demanded France and Spain the universal male vote, encouraged strikes.

They still didn't listen, treated her like she was just acting like a child, and so she had to burst into the Casa de la Vall to take control of the place and show she was not joking, this was not a tantrum and she was fed up with this situation.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk...Someone is in need of a little spanking..." France sighed, and sent his gendarmes to give Andorra a corrective.

"Your guys are not touching my little girl!" Spain protested. Andorra thought for a second that she managed to move him, but in reality..."You see how evil this guy is? He always does that to those who don't obey him blindly. Come with me. I will protect you from him."

And since Andorra refused, he also sent his civil guards to intervene. This was one of the things both men agreed on. The other was cutting Andorra's allowance until she came back to her senses.

Something had to be done. Other countries, like America or England were watching this issue with interest and sided with Andorra. The girl was not asking for anything unreasonable. Something had to be done to improve her conditions of life and neither France nor Spain were complying.

"Am I so bad, mignonne?" France lamented himself.

"Don't you love me anymore?" Spain sighed pitifully.

"I love you both." Andorra replied. "But I can't keep on being between you two."

"We will never fight again." Spain turned his head towards France to get his support and he nodded in agreement. "We will behave."

"I'm glad you will...But it's not just that. You didn't raise me to be your baby for eternity. I need to do this for myself. I'm a grown-up now. I need to fly alone, Papa, Papá."

Spain and France looked at each other again and shared the same look of defeat.

It seemed...Their job was done...

Soon after that, the elections declared Andorra's independence. But that meant little, and, of course, it didn't mean Andorra would stop being their little girl.

1936

Andorra was starting to receive refugees from all sides of Spain. Some wanted to go to France's house, others stayed at her house, helping her prosper with the money they brought.

France declared himself neutral about this 'domestic issue of Spain' but everyone knew he had been making deals to provide the Republic weapons, sent many men to fight on their side. Just in case, he watched like a hawk, in case the conflict affected Andorra. He was not going to let just one bullet touch her territory.

"But what about him? Aren't you going to help him?" Andorra asked him.

"That's none of my business." He responded.

"He's in terrible pain..."

Andorra's sadness, to the point of shedding tears at the mere thought of what Spain was going through at that moment, moved France, of course it did, but not enough.

"He wasn't there all these times it was me who was in terrible pain." He said coldly.

Spain could rot from inside if he wanted. He probably deserved it. As long as his rankness didn't touch Andorra. It didn't matter who won—both sides could hurt her with their harmful ideologies. He would not allow it.

There was a winner, one Spain had to put up with for forty years. France thought everyone had what they deserve. Probably didn't think the same when Germany burst into his house, defeated him and put Pétain in power in order to control him.

"Aww, look at that! England didn't turn out to be the good friend and savior he thought he was!" Spain mocked him.

"Why are you laughing? This is terrible! France is the hands of the fascists!" Andorra complained.

"Isn't he so marvelous, so important, so resourceful? He'll get out from this one alone." Spain shrugged.

She knew behind this display of toughness was weakness. This wasn't a good situation for any of them. They were both in terrible pain, getting used to a new government which only was there by force...

Andorra tried to help them both and convince them to help the other. She tried to appeal to their old friendship, but it was too buried under thousands of years of war and schemes. She saw there was no choice but manipulate their feelings a little bit:

"Do if for me. Okay? Just for me?"

France and Spain wouldn't have peed on the other even if he was on fire, but if it was Andorra's desire...Everything for Andorra.

And so she was the way through which smuggled goods passed from one country to the other.

1993

There we go again. Spain and France in the same room, and Andorra sitting in front of them. She saw how they glanced at each other, could get their thoughts. Spain looked at France like telling to himself that he was dressing all of these expensive clothes just to provoke envy on him. France, on the other hand, seemed to be annoyed by Spain breathing next to him. She feared in any moment a new argument would arise. They were angry because she had formally declared her independence, and they were going to make the other pay. It was his fault, clearly.

"If that's what you want, we will not stop you." France said.

Andorra thought she heard wrong.

"We will support you before the UN and Europe. You earned your country status." Spain added with a little smile.

"...For real?" Andorra was so surprised this was all she could say.

"Sure, what do you think?" France smirked.

"If you don't have the means to form your own army, we will both defend you." Spain said.

"Poor be the idiot who thinks they can touch you."

"The rest...Well, it's up to you."

Andorra smiled.

"Nothing much is going to change. I am still going to work with francs and pesetas, and talk in Catalan, Spanish and French."

She stood up and walked towards them, to wrap an arm around each of them and pull them close.

"I know where I come from and I will always honor you both."

France and Spain exchanged a look and then returned the hug, not touching each other. They still hated each other's guts, and there were many things to annoy the other they had not tried yet. They just would contain themselves in front of Andorra. Keep it private. For her.

THE END