Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

A Nation's Salvation	By : eternalstarhaven Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2145 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Hetallia: Axis Powers does not belong to me, but to Hidekaz Himaruya, while the idea behind the story is my own. I do not make a profit or money by writing this. I also have this story posted on fanfiction.net under the same penname.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Italy's and Spain's Rescue
Chapter Eleven
He hadn't had this kind of a challenge in close to a hundred years, not since the last water nation had denied him his certain victory. She, and the seven nations that connected to her, had withstood his mind compulsion; not that a water nation made it easy to begin with. They were fully capable of putting up the mental defenses necessary to prevent him from taking them over, forcing them to do whatever he wanted. However, most of them hadn't seen him coming, and one-by-one, he destroyed and took their powers. In the end, she had surprised him and vanished. No one knew what had happened to the infamous Atlantis, nor did they know that her city was the first to fall. That should have been more than enough to weaken her, but he hadn't counted on her connection to the entire Atlantic Ocean, the creatures within it, and to his shock, the coastal areas of Spain.
Other than Oceanonis, she shouldn't have been immune, and as a result, she had managed to stand in his way to conquest. This young Italian Nation was too much like her, filled with defiant hatred, resisting his attempts at controlling him with every ounce of will power. Blood trickled from his mouth, ears, and nose; no longer able to move or protest. At first he had found his resistance amusing, now he was just irritated. The boy would eventually break... he didn't give a damn if he had a mind left when he was finished.
"It's simply easier to give in, little Italy." Applying more pressure to his mind, he saw the Italian twitch in agony, so close to giving in. "All you have to do is submit... the pain will stop... eventually."
South Italy had no idea what day it was anymore; he couldn't even remember the last time he had seen Spain. The pain was so bad that he often passed out, only to wake up to start all over again. A small part of him was so close to giving him what he wanted, but... Feliciano... he had to focus on his little brother. His entire life, everyone had always compared him to Feliciano, telling him that he was nicer, more lovable. Maybe it was true... The one thing that made him better than Feliciano though... he was stronger, and he'd never give into this bastard regardless of how bad it hurt.
Feliciano cried a lot... and he hated violence more than anything else. Both brothers believed that it was war that had somehow taken Grandpa Rome away from them, and it was his grandpa's fighting strength that he'd gather inside of himself, twist and use it so that he'd somehow keep this bastard from taking him over like he had so many others. Something soft and gentle brushed against his mind, and for a moment he thought the bastard was attacking him again. No wait, he had gone somewhere, leaving him on the floor.
Opening his hazel eyes, he noticed that the room was empty, left in a pool of his own blood. He longed for a bath, to rid himself of the stench that coated his body. The bastards didn't even let him go to the bathroom, letting him go in the very spot he slept in. You don't have a lot of time... can you move?
He wanted to tell whoever was talking to him to go to hell, but it didn't hurt like it normally would with the other guy. There's a drain close to where you are and you're small enough to crawl through it.
His fingers twitched; it surprised him that he was able to do that much. He wanted to go back to sleep, to escape the pain in his head, but the voice in his head pleaded with him to stay awake, as if this was perhaps his only chance at escape. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't chained to the wall like he had been. Oh yeah... the bastard had taken them off.
He was far too weak to stand, but not impossible to crawl. Regardless of how small or big the movement, it hurt, white spots at the edges of his vision. We have eyes on Spain, but we can't do anything until we have you.
Spain... he was still here? The thought made him smile... even if it was just a small one, and he finally made it to the drain near the edge of the wall. Covering it were old, and rusty bars, ones that he had to somehow crawl through if he were to escape. I know I'm asking a lot, Little Italy... You have no reason to trust that I'm not going to hurt you the way he has, and I'd not use this method of communication if I had any other way. Once you crawl through, it will drop you to the bottom of the church, but we won't let you hit the ground.
He didn't trust this person, but what other choice did he have. If he stayed, that bastard would come back and start hurting him again, and he only hoped that this person's intent was either to save him, or kill him immediately. He didn't have the strength to do it himself at the moment, and with tears he hadn't allowed to fall in several days, he crawled the rest of the way into the tiny hole, just large enough for him to fit. Sure enough, there was a large hole, and he couldn't see the bottom.
Maybe he was hallucinating, but he knew one thing. If he was wrong and there wasn't someone down there to catch him... Would the fall be enough to kill him? He risked the lives of his people, his country, but what that man was doing to him was far worse. The sound of the door opening was all he needed to drag himself the rest of the way and over the edge. He didn't scream... on the off chance that there was someone, he didn't want the man to find them right away.
Between the top and the bottom, he fell unconscious, a pair of strong arms catching him, red eyes staring down at him in horrified shock. Afraid to put him down, afraid to carry him... Prussia gently cradled him close to his body and crept back to the edge of the water tunnel. Looking up at him from the Atlantic, she nodded, already heading off towards the castle. His first instinct was to jump into the ocean, but she had given him a clear warning, stay... Finland was so going to kill them both if he found out what they were doing, but refusing Atlantis was like asking himself to suddenly stop fighting and hand over all of his lands to his enemies.
He returned to an empty tower, blood stains on the expensive carpet. His eyes scanned the room, seeing no way the boy could have escaped, not without passing through the stairway. The window was still locked. He cursed his failure to re-secure the brat, and then he saw it, the small drain. He was far too large to fit into it, but he had other ways of gathering the information he needed.
Walking over to the drain, he knelt, reaching in to touch the cool stone, sensing the water connected to it. Closing out all sound, he concentrated, searching... and nothing. Baffled, he tried again, and failed. And then he understood. Parts of the church connected to the Atlantic as well as the English Channel and Irish Sea. He had absolutely no control or connection to the Atlantic, that power denied to him.
Ripping open the tower door, he descended the stairs two at time, everyone ducking out of his way as he stormed past, windows shattering, clouds forming and swirling above. "I want a search on the Atlantic Coast! Now! Spain, bring him to me!" No one dared to defy him, regardless if the Soldiers that he ordered around belonged to Britain.
Stepping into the brisk air, he breathed, allowing the sound of the ocean to wash over him. The only connection he felt from this area was to the Irish Sea and English Channel, a power he had stolen from the British Isle Water Nation that had once protected it. The Atlantic and all the nations connected to her in the southern waters of Spain, had been the only ones not to fall to him. She had taken that from him! Shrugging out of his bothersome, 'human' clothes, he flexed his arms, took a running leap and dove towards the welcoming embrace of the water. He might not have the connection to the Atlantic, but he still felt its incredible power, the currents, the link it had to the European Land Nations, and the one they had yet to discover. Damn Oceanonis! If he had had his, power, he wouldn't need hers. Unlike all the water nations, he had possessed control over it all. He'd eventually find where the ancient had hidden it; in the mean time, he had a bothersome Italian to find. At first his immunity to enthrallment or mind control was amusing, but now he considered it dangerous to his main objectives. The boy had to die; was it just this one, or was his younger twin the same? He'd focus on that later.
Legs turning into a purple and green tail, he quickly made his way to where the drain would have led to, the human waste leading from the church and into the ocean. It was disgusting, but he dismissed that thought as he began to search for the boy, wishing he had the ability to sense him. If he had been in any other body of water other than the Atlantic, that wouldn't have been a problem. Above, a boy began to stir, a hand covering his mouth. "Don't talk, don't move, and stay calm." Prussia had seen him from their vantage point, rising every so often, searching the cliff, the rocks, and only briefly the tunnel they were hiding in. Finland had said she was the only one... was that why Atlantis had brought him along? She had given a clear warning not to leave the Tunnel, not until she had time to get to Spain. He only hoped that she hurried, judging from the alarms sounding throughout the castle, her opportunity of escape was quickly closing.
France quickly opened the door, closing it as she entered. "Is he safe?"
"Not yet, but he doesn't know of Prussia or that they're still hidden beneath the church's foundation. Did you get Spain?" France's gaze drifted to the motionless nation, his green eyes no longer filled with happy, an optimistic cheer. "I had to half drag, and half carry him."
"France... you can't stay here."
"I have no choice, mon amie."
"We all have choices," she protested, touching his cheek with a trembling hand. The fact that she was frightened alarmed him. She had never said what or who she was, but he had a strong hunch that she was an ancient, powerful, brave... "I know that you want to save him, but you can't do that if you're dead or under the control of another ancient."
"There's another?"
"Yes... My memories won't let me remember who he is or was, but I do know that he's very dangerous."
"I'm not afraid..."
"You stubborn child!" she hissed, wrapping her arms around his neck to hug him close. "When have the hearts of men changed so much that they are willing to follow their hearts instead of their own selfish desires?"
"Are they not one and the same? It is when we place others before our selves that makes it so noble, oui?"
"France... he is not like the other nations... just to look at him, you will want to do as he wants... and that's only a small portion of what he's capable. There is a reason why there are no other ancients, and until I remember, I ask that you abstain from challenging him. Please, I beg of you; for the sake of Spain, Italy, and the friend that you wish to free from his control."
"What do you need me to do?"
"You must find Finland and Russia; we will head to Denmark from the North Sea. If he's not there..." She didn't want to tell him that the ancient was going to come after them, especially once he realizes that a water nation was helping them... He won't know which water nation she was, but with him in the water searching, he'd eventually figure out where they were going and cut her off.
"Why not travel over the land?"
She had considered it, but Britain's Soldiers were blanketing the area, their orders to find and re-capture South Italy. They had no idea that he was still within their borders, and Prussia was going to keep it that way until it was safe enough to move. Shouts echoed further down the corridor, and France gently pushed her away. It was not him they were after, but Spain. If he left with them, it could endanger his people, and he couldn't risk it. "I will do as you ask; take care."
Closing and locking the doors to his chambers, France quickly walked down the corridor to find himself surrounded by several guards and Britain leading them. "Have you seen Spain?" he demanded.
"I have only recently awakened from a pleasant dream, mon ami." Britain's green eyes narrowed. Considering his close relationship with the Spaniard, France had every reason to lie to him.
"Then you won't have a problem with the guards searching your room?"
"No..." France stammered, watching the upward curve of Britain's mouth. They had known each other long enough, that Britain didn't even have to say anything else... He knew that France had somehow taken and hidden Spain, but he wouldn't have taken him far, not with the speed in which he had gathered the guards and closed off the kingdom.
Reaching for the key in his pocket, unable to stop the inevitable, France opened the door and watched as the guards rushed in and scattered. They weren't gentle in the way they threw the furniture, over turned the bed, and yet as they cleared each chamber... shouts of clear ringing out... Britain's growing fury, France had to call forth all of his acting skills and struggle not to laugh. "See... no Spain."
Pulling out his sword, he pressed the blade against France's throat. "If I find out that you're responsible for all of this..."
"Only an idiot would stay if they were guilty."
"On the contrary..." Britain sneered, the cold steel biting into his flesh. "You'd stay just to throw the scent off your trail."
Blue eyes narrowing... "I said I will help 'you', did I not?"
"I suppose you did; didn't you? Fine, you're going to help me find them; together..." Britain hissed. No, he didn't have the proof that he needed to blame France, but he didn't trust that he wouldn't take off now that he no longer had Spain under his control.
She had had no time to think, her body pressed tightly against the Spaniard to prevent them from falling. He didn't move, didn't talk, his gaze unseeing as the Soldiers ripped France's room apart. This wasn't going to work if she couldn't bring Spain back to reality. Why had her brother entrusted her with so much power; she had no idea how to use it, and these land nations needed her now more than ever. Staring into his green eyes, she felt herself shiver... there was something about this one... she couldn't quite describe it, but she didn't have time to dwell on the feeling. Was he a descendant to one of her island cities? No, wait... she had had a presence in areas of Spain and Italy as well. All the territories that connected to the water had a land nation that was just as connected to a water nation, and for Spain it was more than likely one of her allies, and ultimately herself.
Why couldn't she remember?! Angry at herself, terrified that she might result in this nation's death... All the answers she needed were locked away inside of her mind, and with a desperate cry, she closed the remaining distance between her and Spain, capturing his frozen lips with her own, reaching for the power Oceanonis had gifted to her, and flooded Spain with it. What she was doing was equally as dangerous as mind control... she had no other option. If Spain didn't come back to them... No, she was going to do this; she won't fail him like she had everyone else. She'd give him a reason to live and fight again.
"Spain... you have to fight... there's a little boy who desperately needs you." Each whisper jolted him closer and closer to the world of pain and suffering, but it wasn't the sound of screaming that he heard, but a soft whisper of encouragement, of faith and love... not the kind of love that one felt in a heated moment of passion, but the kind of love one held for his people, for his country, and for the children that wanted only a word of praise and affection. Why was he giving up? Was he not a proven warrior; did he not know how to stand up and fight? He knew that he risked everything if he opposed Britain, but if he did nothing, South Italy would die regardless.
He blinked... the night bathed in a rainbow of colors, pulsing around him, healing and comforting his injured soul. He blinked a second time, and that same light began to dim, leaving him awake and alert outside of France's chambers. Pressed up against him, was perhaps the most enchanting creature he had ever laid eyes upon. Pulling back, using his wide shoulders to brace herself, she glanced into his green eyes, and smiled in relief. Reaching for her hood, she started to pull it back over her head when he stopped her, his strong fingers reaching for her dark hair. "I know you..." he whispered, awe in his voice. She wanted to ask... but her world spun out of control. She had to stay awake, but she had used far too much power.
Spain easily held her as she slumped forward, one arm wrapped around her waist, while the other kept a firm hold on the side of France's window. He had no idea how he had gotten out here in the first place, and then there was the woman... he knew exactly what she was, but he had thought her long since past from the world of men. It couldn't be helped, until the search moved away from the royal guest chambers and further into the city or country side, he had to linger on the balcony of an old castle. He only hoped that Italy was safe, but if she was here, then France must have somehow managed to get word to Finland and his allies.
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Nation's Salvation