Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers!
Story: They all thought it was France who influenced America away from England. That only Prussia influenced America's military. That only England's culture was completely entwined with America. But there was someone else pulling the strings, and Rome was waiting to rise again.
Set somewhere somewhere somewhere (shrugs).
Spoilers: Yesssss….Noooo…I don't know?
Warnings: Violence, language, sexual situations, etc.
Pairings: RomexFem!America, one-sided WorldxFem!America, side-main platonic (and yet not really platonic) UKxUS, CanadaxBelarus, AustriaxHungary, etc…
Aeternus Amor Meus
Chapter Five: American Revolution: Tea Drain
"Rome~ How do I look?" America grinned at him.
Rome wrinkled his nose, but sighed and gave her a fond smile.
"As the English say –absolutely darling. Go on, trot around in your costume, America."
She gave him one last mischievous smirk, before she trounced out of her room. He frowned to himself, but shook his head. She was just having a little fun anyway, and this could actually work out in his favor…
"Mornin'~" America greeted her twin, kissing his cheek.
Poor Canada turned such a bright red that she was reminded of a tomato, and she giggled slightly. He gave her a slight pout, but his eyes twinkled at her.
"Good morning, America," he said in his soft voice. "Father is in the town. I see you actually went through with your crazy plan. He won't be pleased."
"He has no idea about this, and you won't tell him," she looked at him pointedly. "And England will hopefully won't see me. I'm just having a bit of fun," she smiled widely.
"Dressed up in pirate clothes?" he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Hey! At least I made my own, and I didn't go off and nick his," she defended herself playfully.
"Of course. That makes it so much better," he said sarcastically, but inwardly he was still feeling a little uneasy about this.
It was only a small thing, just a little bit of harmless fun. But lately, America and England would start butting heads over the smallest things, and sometimes America would come close to tears. She'd come to him sometimes, in the middle of the night after some of the fights, sniffling but stubbornly refusing to cry. He'd just hold her in comfort and try to smooth things over, sometimes providing excuses and reasons for England.
He really hoped this wouldn't be one of those times that America got upset.
He hoped more that she wouldn't cry this time.
"Done with breakfast!" America declared happily, standing up abruptly.
"Huh?" Canada blinked.
She rolled her eyes. "While you continue to be lost in thoughts, I'm going to go off and see if any of the ships would let me pretend to be a pirate on it. I'll see you later, Canada!"
She gave him one last peck on the cheek before walking out the door with a powerful stride to her walk, and him watching her with troubled eyes.
She quickly found a few ships and eagerly went to one. She had no trouble convincing the captain and crew of her presence, whom she promised she wouldn't be any trouble or get in their way. Rome merely stayed in the background, watching with a scowl. She inwardly sighed. She knew he didn't care all that much for pirates, considering his own history with them –she remembered the stories he told her of Caesar and the pirates, of his own encounters.
But she was just playing pretend.
With perfect balance, she gracefully traversed the mast she was on, heading to the pole with ease, with arms out to help steady her.
"Careful there, Bell!" one of the crewman shouted out to her and she looked over and gave him a mock salute, grinning happily.
Bell. Short for Bellona, as the crew had denounced it as too much of a mouthful and odd a name, as well as kind of strange to pronounce. Her full name that she was to use amongst the humans was Bellona Isis Kirkland. Obviously, she'd taken on England's surname, but her first two names had been bestowed upon her by Rome.
Bellona had been some Roman war goddess, he'd told her. Isis, she'd been puzzled about though. According to him, however, Isis had become a widespread goddess in Rome, especially and strangely after Caesar's assassination, to which a stalled temple construction in her name came through and it hadn't been long until she was being worshiped by Romans as well. Rome had asked if she wouldn't mind, as the name brought Rome and his once beloved Egypt (both the land and the personification) together, and also of his late beloved Cleopatra (of whom America held many characteristics of, and reminded him of a bit) because the Egyptian Queen had taken on the mantle of Isis herself to the people.
America hadn't cared as she didn't care too much of coming up with her own, so had allowed Rome to come up with a name for her.
Though he would not also say that Isis had also become known as Regina Caeli –Queen of Heaven. Of which he severely associated with America…
America had spun once around the pole before she'd heard the shouting of her caretaker. She hugged the pole with one arm, using the other to cheerfully wave at the rapidly approaching England.
"Isis!" he yelled, sounding rather upset for some reason.
That was another thing. England had been surprised by "her" choice of names, and had been rather uneasy and wary of the Latin first name she'd taken on. He'd taken to calling her by her middle name instead, uncomfortable of calling her "Bellona" and had simply said that he'd had some upsetting memories regarding Romans, some even bad.
He wouldn't tell her why, nor did Rome, so she had simply concluded that it was something between them and had dropped the inquiry. At least for now.
"Arthur!" she kept waving as she greeted him loudly with his human name around the mortals. "Ahoy there!"
But he didn't look happy at all, even as he approached her closer. Her smile faltered.
Rome watched closely, partly happy at the continuing rift that was growing between the two, but upset that his dearest America was getting so distressed over the conflicts the blond Nations got into.
"Get down from there!" England roared, disapproval lining his face. "What are you thinking, dressing up like that? And running about on ships, and especially on that mast! It's completely unladylike and dangerous! Get down here right now, young lady."
America scowled, but expertly grabbed the mast's ropes on the rig, and slid down with ease, startling some workers and some worried. England fretted a little too, but stowed it away once America came closer to him.
"I was just pretending to be a pirate. You know, like you were once. I don't see what the problem is," she sulked. "I was just playing pretend."
"One, you are much too old to be pretending pretend like this! And it's entirely inappropriate for you to dress up like a man, much less a pirate, and run around town and others in such a deplorable manner! You must act more ladylike, as you should in your age! And going up there like that? It was dangerous, Isis, and you should never have left home!"
She quietly seethed, narrowing her eyes at him. She was irritable and her temper was rising. She hadn't done anything wrong! England was being so unreasonable right now, as he had been lately.
"Maybe I shouldn't have gone up there, but I don't see anything wrong in having fun and the way I'm dressed," she declared angrily.
"Home now, young lady," England ordered, glaring back. "That is an order. Go home."
America was tempted to refuse and dare him to make her, when Rome leaned into her back and murmured to her comfortingly.
"It is alright. Go. Go home. Cool your head and rise not to him. Make your case in your silence."
America pursed her lips, but she reluctantly agreed to Rome's advice. She gave England the cold shoulder as she turned on her heel sharply, and marched away from him and off of that ship. In her home, she made her presence clearly known as she banged the door open angrily and stormed inside.
Canada peeked his head around the corner of the hallway, wincing and taking a guess at what had panned.
"America? You alright?"
"No! I'm not alright!" she screamed acidly at him. She immediately flinched and regretted it. "I'm sorry, Canada. I'm just really angry at England right now, but I didn't mean to take it out on you."
He gave her a small smile, moving more into view. "It's okay, America. How about we play at pirates outside? I know England cut your fun short, but we can play a little outside?"
America beamed happily at him. "Really! Great! But let's go into the woods, okay?"
Soon enough, she and Canada were play-sword fighting in the woods.
"Take that, scum!" America said, taking on an exaggerated pirate-ish voice.
"I'll never go down!" Canada declared.
"Move to the left, America," Rome said, completely amused as he watched. "Twist your wrist upwards quickly and harshly collide with his 'sword.' It should disarm him, because of the surprise move and the surprising force behind it."
She did as he advised her, and Rome had been right. Although, seeing as they were using sticks to pretend as swords, the force was even more so and probably ending up overkill.
America laughed lightly and with her usual grace, walked over to him and helped him up.
"That was brutal," Canada mock-whined, pouting a bit. "You always win like this. How do you fight so well with a sword? Er, stick."
America shrugged, eyes twinkling. "Secret~" she winked at him.
Canada joined her in laughing, although his eyes couldn't help roaming around the area –particularly behind America, where he felt the most unease rise up in him. He had always felt like there was something close by to America, someone watching them. He shivered a bit at the thought that it could be some kind of supernatural force…After all, if England could believe in his fairies and unicorns and other mystical creatures, then who was to say that there wasn't some ghost haunting America? R-right?
He hated ghosts and was utterly terrified of them, and he didn't like the idea that one was haunting America or that they could be around one.
"There's a meeting being held in Boston by Samuel Adams. He's going to talk to people about this whole Tea Act and fighting it. Everyone else has managed somehow, but Boston's governor is being an utter twit right now."
Canada and America traded looks and together, they quietly trekked closer to the voice.
"I hate all these taxes! Why are we paying for all of it?" Another voice answered to the first, angrily complaining.
America frowned. She hated that her people were disgruntled and she hadn't like the taxing either. But England had kept her complacent about the whole situation, promising it was only for a little while and that it wasn't actually too bad on her people.
But like now, she keeps hearing how unhappy they all were.
"A Nation's loyalty must be to the people first," Rome murmured. "Our lands and people are kept happy, and in return we live well. We coexist in this way. When a balance is tipped, when one side is suffering, the other will too."
America clenched her hands, bowing her head as she glared at the ground.
"America?" Canada questioned softly, tentatively laying a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him mournfully. "They're all unhappy. I want to make them happy. That's all I want."
Canada looked at his sister sadly. He pulled her into his arms and held her. "I know, America. I know."
'It wasn't fair,' she wanted to cry out. But she was stuck here, and stuck as she was. Unable to do anything, unable to say anything, and being kept locked away like some fairytale princess.
She liked princesses and fairytales and happily ever after's when they occurred. But she also loved the idea of fighting and being able to stand with all the big powers and not just being a lady and all grace. She wanted to impress and be impressive. She wanted to be an edge, like the sharp frame of a knife, but also have all the softness, elegancy, and demureness of a lady as well. Who said she couldn't be both? That she had to choose to either be all that a woman was supposed to be, and yet defy conventions and stand as power meant for men at the same time?
She didn't care for anyone's opinions. If she wanted to be a woman and all the softness, gentleness, and suppleness associated to women, then she damn well would be. If she wanted to fight and wear pants like a man, then she damn well could also. No one was going to demand and tell her how she should be.
She wanted so badly to be like the warrior queens Rome loved talking to her about, and that England sometimes told her of as well.
She and Canada began their trek back home initially in silence. He broke it first.
"This Samuel Adams sounds like trouble," Canada commented with a frown.
"He and the Sons of Liberty are concerned about myself," meaning of her lands and the other people living here. "They're well-meaning. They just want what's best for everyone living here."
"Yes, well, I don't want them to be getting you into trouble," Canada worriedly countered.
"It is the right of the people," she heard Rome quietly say from behind them.
"It is the right of the people," she echoed aloud. "They are living here. Their voices should be heard. Especially regarding their treatment at the hands of authority, and of the rights afforded to them."
Canada bit his lip, looking at her anxiously. "You shouldn't…talk like that. Especially if England's around…"
America pressed her lips together in a firm line and kept quiet, glaring ahead.
When they were within sight of home, they saw England worriedly pacing in front of the house. He immediately saw them, and rushed towards them with an angry scowl.
"Where have you two been? And the two of you are filthy! You should especially know better, America! This is conduct unbefitting of a young lady, especially of your age and station. The two of you need to get inside and clean up! It's dinnertime as well! For shame, you two."
America didn't argue, but she mulishly went inside first. Canada followed, muttering an apology to England after he passed him. They cleaned themselves up quickly and were at the dinner table with England, in uncomfortable and tense silence.
"Tea's not so great," America muttered suddenly.
England frowned. "You shouldn't waste it, America. And you liked tea. What is going on with you?"
"My people are angry," she spat out, looking at him irately. "You're taxing them too much! You're taxing me too much! If you cared about us, about me so much, then why are you doing this?!"
"I already told you," England tensed. "We went over this already before, America! Things are hard right now. You don't understand anything. You're much too young and naïve about this."
"I'm not too young! Or that clueless. None of that matters too much anyway! I don't need to be so old or know too much, to know how unhappy everyone is!" America stood up, making her chair screech noisily against the floor.
England copied her, his own chair screeching back. "You're not a true Nation. You wouldn't know anything about these matters," he snarled out unthinkingly. Hearing it back, he mentally winced and regretted them, but he refused to show his remorse in front of her right now.
But their fight just escalated, and soon they were just screaming and arguing back and forth, sometimes not even knowing what they were saying. Canada could only stare in shock and worry as he glanced back and forth between the feuding two, both figuratively and literally caught in the middle from his seat in between the two.
"Go to your room!" England finally shouted.
America reeled back and stared furiously at him. Quickly, vivid but brief images flitted across her mind, of a man losing control of a meeting, people pouring out of the meeting, and heading towards the harbor, where they boarded three vessels and began dumping all the tea aboard into the waters. She even saw that some of them were dressed as Mohawk warriors, and understood the true meaning behind such disguise, beyond hiding their faces from the illegal protesting they were partaking in.
She bowed her head, hiding her face. Her body trembled slightly, before she stilled and then she was lifting her head. Her chin was regally raised as she coldly gazed back at England.
"I am an American. I am not an English woman," she spoke steadily and clearly in a cool tone.
She turned and started to go to her room, as was ordered, grabbing her cup of tea with her. Quietly, she passed by the sink and poured her full cup of tea down into it, before placing the cup to the side and continuing her way with a straight, defiant posture, an elegant gait, and a raised head.
America left behind a stupefied Canada and a furiously stunned England.
Rome merely proudly followed after her, inwardly clapping at her and of the fruition of his patience concerning all his plans soon coming into being and the evidence of his grooming of America.
He and his Queen were close at hand.
Started 8/10/13 – Completed 8/10/13
A/n: Really sorry it's been awhile! It gets hard to update certain fics. Anyway, Rome was a little more background, but I really liked his subtle role in this chapter. Hope you all liked this America's human name and the start of the American Revolution :) Also, Rome isn't exactly a ghost, but it's how Canada's feelin', right? Anywa, hope you guys liked this chapter! Please review if you did! It would be nice to get another ten reviews!
To AquariusOtter: Thank you! I definitely will!
To PSD1437: Thank you! I really thought America would be influenced by Rome, so this idea popped up. Sorry the chapters seem so short! I thought they were alright…
EDIT 8/17: Aw, come on guys. I know you're reading, but no one's reviewing? That's really depressing.