I have used a song by Paola Bennet in this chapter. It's a short, sweet lullaby that I'd gotten stuck in my head some time ago, and memorized. This song was sung in honor of a character (Nico) from a different fandom, so I don't believe it's copyrighted. The song is called 'Soldatino'. I've replaced his name in the song so that our characters can use it, as well as taking away one stanza. I recommend you listen to the song while you read this first part, you can find it on YouTube.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia - Axis Powers
My ears pricked up at the melodious sounds floating through the living room.
I had been reading. An Italian fiction, if you want to know. My understanding was still rather sketchy, but there was no arguing against Canada being a good teacher.
Anyway, I looked up to see Romano sitting at the grand piano and playing an elaborate tune. I hadn't heard anything much like that before, we didn't have that type of music back in Northern Europe.
After another minute or so, Canada got up from doing his 'homework' (not from me! I would never give anyone homework) and came over to the couch to lie on Vene's lap. I have to admit that a tinge of jealousy sparked through me at that.
Vena began stroking his hair. It was honestly only then that I noticed the long twisty curl Canada had on his right. Of course, it wasn't floating like mine, I was yet to meet anyone whose was.
Romano kept playing. His fingers flew across the keys, stroking smoothly, creating a soft gentle tune which made my eyes drooped.
As the music slowed to light, petite sounds, I put down my book and let my attention be captured.
He paused for a second, then Bianca closed her eyes and began to sing.
Close your eyes,
I know what you see.
The darkness is high,
And you're in ten feet deep.
But we've survived,
More terrible monsters than sleep.
And you know I, will be here, to tell you, to breathe.
Romano wasn't exactly the loud, rambunctious type, and Bianca had always seemed the more obedient, delicate type, but I hadn't yet seen them conduct such a serene act, with such perfect synchrony.
Tu sei il mio, soldatino.
La ragione per cui vivo.
Non ti scordar di me.
Io veglierò su di te
I couldn't quite grasp what she said, actually, even though the Italian was slow and smooth, but it sounded beautiful anyway.
Stumbling lost,
The last choice of all that you meet.
It's the cost,
Of ruling those `neath your feet.
Paths you've crossed,
And trust you're trying to keep.
You're exhausted,
Listening for a voice that won't speak.
Bambino, mio caro.
I was closing my eyes then. Their music felt really pretty, if that's possible.
Tu sei il mio, soldatino.
La ragione per cui vivo.
Non ti scordar di me.
Io veglierò su di te.
As Romano played the last few notes, I opened my eyes and noticed both Canada and somehow Bianca sleeping soundly.
"That was beautiful," I said softly.
Vena nodded. "Of course it was. Bianca and Romano create the art and culture of our country, I only symbolize the power and influence that we have. That's why they can play, they can sing, they can paint, cook, draw, dance, write, I will only ever be second best to them."
"You're too modest, Vene," said Romano, shaking his head, "You know very well that you can do all that almost as well as we can. And you handle all our politics and trade, and the health and safety of our people."
He waved it off. "Anyone can do things like that, Romano."
"Not as well as you," I blurted out.
Both of them turned to me with wide eyes, as if they had forgotten I was there.
Vena stared at me for a while before actually stuttering, "T-thank you, Norway."
Romano turned back to him and smirked.
I'm honestly not sure why I said that. I didn't know, I didn't know how well he had been taking care of his land, I hadn't seen how he had been dealing with any problems that hit them.
Maybe I was reflecting what my people were feeling. While I was there, slowly healing, teaching Canada, someone had to be taking care of my country's affairs, and it had to be Vena then. My boundaries were closed off to Denmark and Sweden, anyway, and my people like the things Vena had done for them.
Vena looked down at Canada. "You should go to sleep too, Norway, it's quite late."
Romano started up a new song on the piano, so I didn't protest.
The next morning, I stupidly decided to try and get to the dining room by myself for breakfast. You can easily guess that I got lost.
I decided a long time ago that the Vargas Manor was far too big for a total of only five people living in it. There were at least fifty rooms, at least five floors, and over nine acres of garden space.
And that was only as far as I had actually been to.
Canada had never learned how to properly navigate around the manor, only the Italies seemed to be able to. And they had the tendency to show up for directions at the most bizarre of times.
Currently, I was wandering though a dark green corridor, the first dark-walled area I had seen there so far.
After a while, I began to hear noises, the kind of noises one would hear when any of us were doing our training, but this was more systematic.
My first thought was Canada. Every morning, before our lessons, he would do training of some sort with Vena and Romano, then shower and come bounding to my room out of breath. He never dis tell me exactly what training was like, and I never really asked.
But I did want to know. I did want to know what Canada was learning, outside of our rather casual lessons. So I followed.
There was one room where the sounds were coming from. Two large wooden doors, I only pushed one open a crack.
It wasn't Canada. Canada wasn't the one training there, Vena was.
He was wearing bright silver, that was actually silver and not possibly iron or steel either, because it was also cloth. The silver allowed the light of the fire to glance off him and kaleidoscope around the room.
Fire. I wasn't sure whether the fire trailing from both ends of his staff was conjured or simply lit, but the main shock was probably because I was quite sure as I watched that the fire constantly grazed him, but it never even left a mark.
He was doing one of those fighting routines, with kicking and flips and controlled swings with his staff. The floor shifted beneath him, moving with his feet. Responding to his will.
An elementalist at best, he had told me.
Fire is one of the hardest elements to master. It's very well-favoured, but barely anyone used it. Fire is quick, wild, alive. It is very difficult to reign in and control, and destroys easily.
No one could really control the earth. As far as I knew, because most of the earth was really living, breathing, literally. And none of the countries had yet ever had the ability to create immediate geographical distortion on their land.
Vena moved fast. His movements sometimes became a blur or a flurry. But structured, and he never faltered. Constantly moving, trailing an arc of blazing fire behind him, it was fascinating while rather terrifying.
Wind. There was wind too, sweeping past his hair and tugging the fire, pulling up debris. He was controlling that as well.
I slowly backed out and closed the door. Vena was powerful, that I knew. I just didn't know how powerful. I had a feeling I still didn't know.
The orderly sounds of him training continued behind the closed door.
My head kept spinning. I kept thinking, Vena never told me that, Vena never told me that. It's not like he was really all that likely to tell me, but I had been there for some time already.
I only made me wonder what other secrets he was keeping.
The window clearly showed that it was before sunrise. One would usually wonder what the eldest Italy was doing up that early when the rest of the house, excepting Vena of course, was sound asleep.
I didn't question it, though. I only seemed natural somehow. Just like, the more I thought about it, how natural it was for Vena to have as much power as I had seen. Or more.
Romano put the cup of hot chocolate in front of me. It was emphasized many times before there, none of us were allowed to drink coffee, lest we become addicted, Romano and Vena included. That didn't matter to me. I never did like the taste of coffee all that much, and the chocolate kept me awake just as well.
He watched me as I wrapped my hands around the warm mug drink and took a sip. I wondered what he might be thinking, maybe that it was a miracle I had actually managed to get to the kitchen on my own. Maybe why I looked more shaken than usual. It was times like this that I began to feel very self-conscious of my apparent expressiveness.
After the second sip, he finally broke the silence. "So… you've seen it."
I nodded, not even pausing to think he might be talking about something different. I didn't know whether they had some sort of mind-reading powers, or already knew me that well, or something like that. But he definitely knew. It was a trait the Italies all seemed to share, somehow knowing everything, and always in control.
Romano studied me. "Intimidating, isn't he?"
Maybe, maybe with this new information, maybe I should've felt panicked in a way. I felt as if I should've felt panicked. This was the person I was taking orders from, whom I was now pretty sure was powerful enough to snap Denmark's neck child's play. So maybe I should've felt panicked, but I wasn't. Not really.
"Yes," I said softly, "I still don't know how he does that."
He smiled. "That's why we call him the heir of Rome. He's got a lot of power, capable of taking down an entire legion. That's why I'm the eldest, but he's the leader."
There was always something different about Romano. Of course he had that same manner of complete control, but there was something else. He had an air of neutrality, much more relaxed without the guarded look that was always faintly noticeable.
But Romano was always stable. You could mostly tell what he was thinking on the surface, and expect him to be cam at all times. That was the kind of big brother I had wanted Denmark to be when I was younger and under his care, only thing was, I had never seen Romano giving orders before.
"Do you fear him?" I asked cautiously.
He looked a little taken aback, before relaxing again. A nostalgic smile crossed his face. "Norway… he's my little brother. Now, he's in charge of Canada, I've got no jurisdiction over that, but I still technically overrule him when it comes to traditional hierarchy."
He paused for a moment. "Vene's always been better at that, politics, being the leader. But he hasn't yet learned to be a good older brother yet," he added amusedly, "I'm honestly amazed that Canada took to him so quickly, Bianca so suddenly. It's a gift of his, Norway, he always gets what he wants. Manipulation, he's good at that."
He suddenly broke off. "Do you fear him, Norway?"
I couldn't answer that. Mostly because I wasn't very sure myself.
Seeing my lack of response, Romano spoke on, "I don't think I do, Norway. He does intimidate me a bit, make me feel a bit more self-conscious next to him on a battlefield. I do step aside for him a lot, but I don't fear him, no."
A troubled look replaced his thoughtful one. "When he's angry, though, that's something you have to watch out for. He isn't very nice when he's angry."
Romano just let me sit and ponder that for a moment.
"Come on," he said, standing up. "I'll teach you how to cook."
I blinked. "Cook?"
"You're a bit of an early riser, he said with a chuckle, "Any more of these silent-morning trips won't do you much good if you can't cook, there aren't many ready-made edibles hanging around here, unless you count maple syrup."
He watched me expectantly. I looked down at my cup and decided that my hot chocolate had gone cold anyway.
Romano was like a blanket. He felt safe.
Kind of like a professional older brother.
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