This chapter has a bit of AusHun and implied HREItaly. Enjoy. Paulita Isabel Carriedo-Jones-Honda del Pilar-Bonifacio shall give mangoes and sampaguita to reviewers. :))
Chapter 1: A Little Girl in a Big House
"Philippines, would you like to come with me?" Spain asked, giving his little sister the sweetest smile. Philippines ran up to him, and her eyes spoke. "Ah, I see. You have a little secret to tell." Spain bent down to hear the adorable little girl.
"Please, take me with you. I don't like the babysitters. The friar's being mean…and the governor-general bullies me every time!" Philippines whispered, pouting. "I'll get you new babysitters, alright, my dear sister? Now, come on. We're visiting a friend of mine." Spain said.
"Who are we visiting? I don't want to see Prussia," the brown-skinned child said, crossing her arms defiantly. Her boss/brother gave a little laugh. "Of course not! I know how much you don't like him. We're seeing Austria." He replied. "Austria?" Paulita raised a thin eyebrow.
"You might want to put on your best clothes and behave yourself. He's very strict, but he's actually a nice guy. He has a piano, too. I know you like playing little waltzes," he pointed to her simple blouse and skirt. Austria might not approve and force Hungary to sew Philippines a dress.
"But you know I don't like dressing up!" she complained. She never gives up without a fight, Spain sighed. "Okay. Just make sure it's a pretty house! Are there children in his place?" "Yes, Holy Roman Empire and Italy might want to play but Italy's busy with house chores." Spain said, scratching his chin. In a few seconds, the child disappeared.
She came out later, with her smile as bright as her outfit. She was in an off-white blouse and skirt made of pineapple fibers, topped with a lace shawl with intricate designs and tassels. She wore dainty white shoes and a cameo necklace which her brother gave her. She also carried her favorite fan and fixed her wavy black hair.
"That's better, Philippines. You look like a princess!" Spain said, "but there's one thing missing." He saw one of the vases and had an idea. He took out one of the red roses, cut the thorns, leaves and stem, and tucked it into her black hair. "Kuya, why aren't you wearing your best clothes? You're unfair!" Philippines complained.
Spain had to give in to the child. He was soon dressed in a red jacket with gold trim, black breeches and shoes. He wore a snow-white blouse and cravat decorated with a ruby. He topped the look with a black hat, also with a rose tucked in.
"That's better, Kuya. You look like a prince!" Philippines said, mimicking her brother's tone. They soon said goodbye to the house help and left for Austria's place.
It was a lovely spring morning outside. The thrushes were singing sweetly, the roses were blooming, and other flowers were showing off their gay colors. The countryside looked like a canvas brushed with so many colors. People were festive and cheerful, and they admired the brother and sister walking down the street.
Philippines had not gone out in a while, so she took in all the sights. She was like a jaw which needed to be filled with the beauty of the world. The lady who sold flowers gave her a white tulip to match her immaculate ensemble. Mothers giggled as she passed through. With much modesty, she covered her face with a fan when she passed by the boys, who soon saluted her by taking off their hats.
In her excitement, she did not notice a man walking in front of her. She bumped into him. "Oww!" she said, pulling a sour face. The man picked her up, looked at her as if she was a piece of garbage and said to Spain, "And who is this kid bumping into the awesome me as I take my morning walk?" he asked, arrogance dripping with every word.
"You don't remember me?" Philippines asked, whacking his shoulder with her fan. "Oww! This kid can hit!" Prussia said, "Not awesome." "It's Philippines, Prussia. Can't you at least try to see other kinds of beauty apart from…yourself?" Spain said.
"She's not awesome as I am. Where did you get this dress, Philippines? It looks awful!" Prussia said, touching the fabric as if he was disgusted by it. "I made it, you peacock. You want one too? Put me down…NOW." The child said angrily. The albino complied, for once.
"I would love to have a dress like that!" Prussia said sarcastically. Gilbird then jumped onto Philippines' head, chirping. "At least your little chick isn't as mean as you." Philippines seemed like the most adorable snob.
"Spain, where did you pick this child up?" Prussia said, annoyed that a child like her wouldn't recognize his "greatness". "I saw her on an island near Guam's house. She has always been like that. She's a very tough child, and I admire her for that." Spain said, proud of the child who was currently playing with Gilbird.
"By the way, where are you going? You're both…dressed up." Gilbert said. "We're going to Austria's house. Philippines was excited…for some reason." Antonio answered.
"Oi, Gilbird, come back here," Prussia said, as the chick came flying back to him. He turned to Philippines and said, "You're going to Specs' house? I don't know if you'll last a minute in that stuck-up pansy's mansion. He always has a stick up his-" Spain clapped a hand over his mouth. "Don't teach her such words!"
"A stick up his what?" Philippines asked. "His a-" "Shut up." Spain smiled at Philippines, and then glared at Prussia. "See you later, then, unawesome ones." The arrogant man turned away.
Philippines stuck out a foot in Prussia's path. Prussia tripped and fell face first on the road. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" he asked. Philippines just covered her face with a fan. "It wasn't my fault." She said, laughing. Spain was also laughing. I've ALWAYS wanted to do that.
"See you later, Prussia." Spain said, as he and his little sister started walking again. Behind them, though, one could see a man yelling numerous German obscenities.
Philippines almost drooled at the sight before her. It was a beautiful mansion, fine and meticulous to the littlest details on the wall. It was more elegant than any other house she had ever seen. It had lofty walls and wrought iron fences which gave her a view of the well-manicured lawns and the colorful gardens in the property. She could see butterflies dancing around the trees, and some squirrels waking up from their winter-long sleep. She had never seen such a house.
"Wow." She said, brown eyes as large as saucers. A servant working in the gardens caught sight of the fine pair and opened the gates for them. "Mr. Austria was expecting you," she smiled warmly. "Ooh, Mr. Spain, who is this fine young lady? Your little sister?"
Spain looked at Philippines and nodded. "Yes, I'm Spain's little sister, miss. My name is Philippines or you can just call me Paulita." She gave a little curtsy. The servant pinched the girl's chubby cheeks. "I think Miss Hungary will like you…very much." She said, letting them in.
"Kuya, who's Hungary?" Philippines asked. "Ah, well, she's Austria's…girlfriend." "Is she pretty?" Philippines asked with dreamy eyes. "Yes. Now, let's go inside. You'll be more amazed." Spain said.
Upon entering the house, Philippines said, "Kuya, can I live here?"
And why wouldn't she want to live there? The servants were warm, hardworking and kind. The house was spotless, almost glistening. The rooms were large, airy and had furniture made of the finest material and design. The corridors were long and wide. The windows spanned the whole wall, with heavy, ornate curtains framing them. The chandeliers were sparkling, and the smell of good food wafted around the house.
"I don't know if Austria would approve. Do you hear that?" he asked Philippines. Philippines heard the soft sound of a piano. The notes were in perfect harmony, beckoning her to find the source of the sound. "Is that a master pianist playing?" she asked. "It's Austria. Music is his life." Spain said, also stopping to listen.
Spain led Philippines to the music room, asking her to keep quiet. As soon as they reached the room, Philippines let out a gasp. It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen in her entire life. The high ceiling was adorned with paintings. The wide glass windows spanned from ceiling to floor, with the purple brocade curtains pulled to the side to let the sunlight in. The marble floor was glistening. Paintings of the royal family adorned the walls. The biggest chandelier in the house hung in this room, sparkling with millions of crystals glinting in the morning sun.
In the middle of it all was a huge piano, shiny and well-kept. Its ivory keys were brushed and cleaned regularly. It was the source of the heavenly music enveloping the house like a charm. Philippines then caught sight of the one playing the piano.
He was a young man but there was gravity in his youthfulness. His brown hair was neatly kept, except for one strand that curled and stood up like an antenna. He was wearing eyeglasses, which hung well on his aquiline nose. His pink lips, curved like an archer's bow, went with the emotion of the piece. A small mole decorated the left part of his chin.
He's like a fairy tale prince…Philippines' attention was captured by his purple eyes, which were almost the same color as his curtains. She had never seen anyone else with such eyes.
As he played the final note, the girl couldn't help but clap loudly. Austria was surprised, but he calmly strode to the doorway. He's so tall…Philippines marveled at him. He was dressed in a blue overcoat which fit his slender build well. A ruffled jabot decorated his neck. His pants were white, and he wore shiny leather shoes. He looked like a prince.
"Good morning, Spain. You seem dressed to the nines today. Nonetheless, I'm honored by your visit, and may I ask who this eager young lady is?" he asked, with a voice as musical as his playing.
Philippines was not used to such formal speech and tone. Spain tended to be colloquial and spoke everyday words. Austria sounded more like a poet. He seemed to be a relic of the past thrown into the present.
Spain blushed, looking at his attire. "Well, my little sister forced me to dress up because I forced her to do so. Austria, this is Philippines. Don't worry, she dislikes Prussia as much as you do," Spain said. Austria gave a small smile. "I might get along well with you, Philippines." He said. "He's mean and he thinks he's more awesome than anyone else in the world," she said, pouting.
"Yes, he's quite vain and he often comes to my house without warning," he then turned to Spain, "Are you hungry?" "No, we've eaten breakfast, Austria. I'd like to talk to Italy, though. Could you…well, watch over Philippines for a while?" Austria nodded as Spain left.
"Well? Do come in. I wouldn't want you eavesdropping there." Austria said, holding out his hand to lead the little girl into the room. "This is a pretty room," she said, "and the curtains match your eyes." Austria had to smile at her serendipitous discovery.
"Can you please play the piano again? I liked what you were playing."
"Alright." he sat at the piano again, ready to strike the keys. Without even asking permission, Philippines sat beside him, her legs dangling. No use in telling her to get off.
"Will I see Hungary later? Is she pretty?"
"I'll call her to be with us later. Well," he blushed, "she is quite beautiful."
"Why are your cheeks so red? But don't worry, you look pretty with red cheeks." She poked at his face. Austria seemed a bit annoyed.
"Uhm, I'll tell you later. Thank you…"
"Why are your eyes purple?"
"I just got them at birth."
"Why do you wear glasses?" she grabbed them from his face and wore them. She frowned. "They hurt my eyes, but oooh, look at me, I'm an old lady!" Austria's patience was wearing thin. "Would you please give back my eyeglasses?" he didn't sound angry, but Philippines could sense that he was not amused.
She looked down, took off the spectacles and handed them to their owner. She didn't look at him. "Thank you," he said, taking them back and wearing them. He then poised his fingers on the piano, preparing to hit the keys. Hungary would love this child. They're like mother and daughter.
It wasn't a while before he started playing a piece. It wasn't Chopin for once. He was playing Canon in D Major by Pachelbel. Philippines caught a glimpse of his hands. His fingers were long and thin, like candles. He had a wide palm, and the skin of his hand seemed soft, but she knew that those hands could be used to shoot enemies, tame horses, fight bullies and probably hold little children.
Upon hearing more of the piece, Philippines thought of the happy moments she had with Spain: he protected her from the mean babysitters he harmed, he taught her to cook, to dress herself and to grow roses. He taught her how to throw tomatoes at France.
When she heard the last note, she still didn't look at Austria. "You're still mad at me for taking your glasses." She said. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No, Philippines. It's just…my eyeglasses are very important to me. I can't see without them. I'm sorry if I acted so harsh. I've been very busy these past few days and I'm lucky enough to have this day off." He said.
"Really? I'm sorry too. Maybe I can make it up to you. I'll play the piano for you." She said. "Alright, then. Go on." He told her.
She nervously put her hands on the keys, thinking of which piece to play. "I couldn't play as good as you do. Please don't laugh when I play," she said. "I wouldn't laugh. Please, do play for me." He assured.
Philippines put her tiny hands on the keys, playing a simpler version of Chopin's famous nocturne. Austria looked at the colony. She had the same skin color as Spain, but instead of brown hair, hers was black. Instead of green eyes, she had brown ones. She had a round, pleasant little face, either decorated by a wide smile or a furious pout. Underneath all that finery was a fiery spirit.
"See, I told you I couldn't play well." "I'm quite impressed actually. To play that piece at your age..."
They heard footsteps nearing the doorway. "Good morning, Mister, I mean… Austria," a brunette came into the room, carrying a porcelain teapot, matching cups and a saucer of pastries on a silver tray. Although she was in a simple green dress which matched her expressive eyes and worn apron, Philippines thought that she was really pretty.
"Good morning, Hungary. Thank you for bringing the tea. Do sit with us a while," Austria said, going to the couches bordering a coffee table. Philippines promptly followed as Hungary put down the tray. The little nation pulled at Hungary's skirt.
"Why, hello there, little one." Hungary knelt down to the girl's level. "You're Hungary?" Philippines said, almost in disbelief. "Why yes, but please call me Elisaveta...or Eli." "You're so pretty. Mr. Austria was right," she said.
"Oh." Hungary said, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.
Austria almost wanted to slam his face to the wall. He wished that he was holding Philippines' fan so that he could hide his face behind it.
"Why are your cheeks turning red? Even Mr. Austria's did. Are you both sick?" she asked, worried.
"No, no. We're not sick. Don't worry about us. Sit down and have some tea." Hungary said, as the three of them sat down.
"Hungary, this is Philippines, Spain's little sister. I think you'd get along well with her. She doesn't like Prussia." Austria said. "You're sooooo cute, Philippines! Did Spain give you that dress?" "No. I made it but Kuya Spain told me that it should look like this. He even gave me this pretty flower," she pointed to the rose in her hair.
Austria sipped from his cup, watching the two ladies. Hungary took a liking to the child. "Prussia said he wanted this dress." Philippines said. "And what did you tell him?" "I'll make him one!" she said, smiling broadly.
Austria almost choked on his tea, but he found the idea great. Time for blackmail. "I hope Spain's nice to you." "Yes, he's a very good brother, but the people who take care of me when he's away…they're so mean. If it's okay, I'd rather stay here." Philippines said.
Hungary almost choked Philippines with a hug. "You're as adorable as little Italy! Especially in that frilly dress and shawl…and you were the one playing the piano." Austria could only smile at them. They were like mother and daughter indeed.
"Miss Hungary, I mean, Eli…" "Yes?"
"Isn't Mister Austria pretty?"
Austria looked at the wall as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. His cheeks had a red tinge. Stop it, Philippines! Everything to you is pretty.
Hungary also turned red. "Well, if he wouldn't be offended, then yes…but Philippines, you don't call a man pretty. A 'pretty' man should be called 'handsome'." Hungary corrected.
"Hungary, you and Italy may have the rest of the day off. Go and let Philippines play with Italy and Holy Roman Empire." Austria said.
Hungary was too happy to oblige.
Hungary showed the entranced child all the wonders of the mansion, from the fountains, to the gardens, to a bridge and to the many rooms. Philippines and Italy drew things together, cooked together and had a lot of fun. Holy Roman Empire joined in the fun but was apprehensive at first.
At the end of the day, Spain frowned a bit when he saw that Philippines had streaks of mud, juice, food, paints and whatnot on her all-white ensemble. "Now you have to wash that again…" he said, looking at the happy little child.
"It's okay. I had fun with Italy and Holy Roman Empire. Mister Austria and Miss-Eli were so nice. Eli's the most beautiful person I've ever seen…and Mister Austria's sooo pretty." Philippines was in a dreamy state. Spain giggled. Austria…pretty? Oh, Dios mio.
"We're going home now, Philippines. Say goodbye to everyone." Philippines went around kissing and embracing even the servants. At the doorway, Austria, Hungary, Italy and Holy Roman Empire were to escort them out.
"Thank you for taking care of Philippines." Spain said. "It was our pleasure. She's a delightful little girl. Please, do take care of her. I even gave her a frying pan to chase Prussia with." Hungary said. "Thank you, Miss Hungary!" she rushed back to embrace the green-eyed woman. She kept the tiny frying pan somewhere in the folds of her dress.
"Thank you Italy and Holy Roman Empire!" she hugged her two playmates who did not want to let go. "Thank you, Mister Austria!" she said, also embracing him.
The four watched the pair leave. Italy held hands with a blushing Holy Roman Empire and they went back to the gardens. Hungary laid her head on the aristocrat's shoulder. "I wish I'd have a child like her." She said. "Who'd be the father?" Austria asked.
"Well, I'd have to see…" Hungary said. "Let's go back inside, dear. Italy and Holy Roman Empire are having all the fun." Austria said. They shared a meaningful smile, then went back to the mansion.
Philippines was laughing when she saw Prussia walk towards them, with a bandage covering a bump on his head. "What are you laughing at? You're covered in mud, paint and food! Not awesome." Prussia scoffed as Gilbird just tweeted.
"I'll get you for making me trip!" he said. Philippines brandished the frying pan Hungary gave her. "Let's see about that!" she said, giving a wicked grin. Prussia ran back to where he came from, with Philippines hot on his heels, brandishing a frying pan.
Spain sighed, running a hand through his brown hair. "It's going to be a long walk home."
The next morning...
Prussia woke up to find a package at his doorstep. "I'm so awesome I get presents from random people!" he said, marveling at his "awesomeness". He picked up the object, tore the strings and the paper and found a note.
Since you liked my dress so much. Here, have one. I dare you to wear it or else I'm going to chase you with Hungary's frying pan. :D I love you, Kuya Prussia! NOT.
-Love, Philippines
And that is why a day passed when Prussia was wearing a bigger version of Philippines' clothing, much to the delight of the little nation, an aristocrat who just couldn't stop laughing, a woman desperate to take a picture of him and spread it all over the world and the little nation's big brother, who was equally amused...not to mention a perv hiding in the corner.
Just connect the spaces. This is to give you an idea of what Paulita-chan's clothes look like:
http : / / bythebookwedding .files .wordpress .com /2010/01/ fame-flores-maria-clara-and-jao-mapa-elias . jpg
Imagine the lady's dress shrunken to the size of a 7-year old girl plus a matching fan and a red rose, there you have Paulita!
Thanks for reading. :D