Sjuende juni:
Ancient Rome:
Julius both loved and hated watching the modern world. He loved that there were, pretty much, peace on Earth, but he hated all the things that weren't there anymore.
His old house, for example. He missed it, seeing it.
He missed the little rituals his people had been doing too.
Like the rituals that happened during Ludi Piscatorii. The celebrations that day would be directed by whomever was the Praetor, all the fish caught on this day would be sacrificed at the Temple of Vulcan by fire; all in honor of Tiber, the river.
Norway:
1905
To be independent, fully independent.
That had been a long time coming. And they were still not quite there. But the step they'd taken was a step on a road there was no turning back from.
Once all the formalities had been completed, he would travel to Mathias' house and meet up with Emil again. And Mathias. Then, he would travel to Tiino's and spend some time there, and later, a year or so after he get his official ratification, he would spend some time with Berwald, just to show him that there were no hard feelings. Even without polite company.
But today, and for the foreseeable future, it was all about his people and him.
All about basking in the glory of turning himself independent, of making his own choices regarding the country he was the Nation of.
Author's notes:
I don't own Hetalia