Disclaimer: I dont own Hetalia: Axis Powers!

Story: They all thought it was France who influenced America away from England. That only Prussia influenced Americas military. That only Englands 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.NooooI dont 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

Chapter One: Rome Wasnt Built in a Day He stumbled through the foliage, mind dazed and not yet focused. His mind hasnt been focused for quite some time, ever since hed been dealt that blow by his former bodyguard turned enemy Germania, who hed once considered a close friend. How long ago has that been? Its felt like forever as he kept running, wound flowing freely of blood, not stopping and strangely he had yet to die. He muttered a curse as he stumbled again, but this time he dropped to his knees, heaving great breaths to try and gain back any sort of sense. As he slumped over and lay gasping on the ground, his blurry gaze peered up and saw an unclear figure gazing down at him, a golden sort of haze framing whoever or whatever it was. Angelus, he murmured. So, Holy Roman Empire, has one of your little angels come to collect my soul? To where does a fallen Empire go to Heaven, to Hell, or do Nations simply fade away? How does that fit into your little religion, little boy? He closed his eyes and waited for peace. When he next awoke, he was surprised that he was still alive. Unless the afterlife was very much like the living, then he doubted he was dead. After all, there were no gorgeous women in scanty clothing moving about in what hed pictured the afterlife to be. And then a little girl popped up in front of his face, blue eyes wide and innocent as they stared at him curiously. He nearly fell back in shock, but regained his balance and stared back at the girl. She wore a similar, though much more simple, outfit like the other women there, wearing gold bracelets, a necklace, and also a diadem, with some type of blue gems embedded into the jewelry. She was barefooted, with ankle bracelets designed like the rest of her trinkets. She actually reminded him a little of Ancient Egypt, except a lot more wilder. And a little of the African savages hed met all those time ago. Who are you? he asked, fixing a kind smile on his face. She tilted her head and then began to talk. But what came out of her mouth wasnt any language he knew and he ended up not understanding a thing she said. He inwardly pursed his lips and reevaluated his situation, thinking about his next step. However, this was nothing new. He had conquered many a nation without understanding their language and eventually forcing his own onto them. But as he glanced around, he understood he could not do that here. He was still weak, recovering from his fall from grace. And he was still in the process of healing from his wounds. No, no force could be used here.

Instead, he would watch and gather information. He would learn to communicate in some way and soon enough, he will find a way back to the top. Romanum, he enunciated, turning his attention back to the little girl. Ro-man-num, he pointed to himself. She tilted her head again. Rominam. He frowned and shook his head. Romanum. Her face scrunched up adorably in confusion. Rome, he said quietly. I am Rome. While she probably did not understand most of that sentence, the shortened Rome seemed to click with her. Rome, she sounded out, pointing at him. He nodded, smiling again. Amy-ka, she replied, pointing to herself. He was the one confused this time, and shook his head to show his confusion. AmyAmyAmyricka, she tried to enunciate her name for him to understand. Ah-maricka. America, it seemed right to him, so he spoke it. With the name seeming to just come to him, the minute warmth of appreciation that entered him as he spoke it and seemed to confirm its rightness, and the invisible aura all Nations had that told other Nations that they were one as well was around her it all seemed to add up to tell him this girl was a Nation also. He gently took her little hands into his and bent over to face her. America, he repeated. Neutiquam erro. I am not lost. I am not yet done in this world. A year passed and Rome had made considerable progress. He had healed and was in full health, but had discovered that only this girl could see him. To all eyes but Americas, he was nothing but a shadow. He had also learned that the people she was currently staying with were called the Aztecs, but that she didnt stay with them all the time. She was more up the north, shed managed to communicate to him, but she liked to visit the south a lot. A man named Mexico stayed in this area, she told him, but she always stayed out of sight.

In that year, he also managed to at least teach her Latin so that they could communicate more easily with each other, and that at least the language barrier could be breached. And unlike how hed forced his language on those before, she willingly learned it and he actually taught it. It wasdifferent. But nice. When she returned back to the north, he was surprised to see how different it was from where hed left. The indigenous people here dressed and lived differently and he had to readjust himself to the differences yet again. America seemed to slip right in easily, but then again these were her people. He found he enjoyed the north better, simply because there was a lot more of the hunting he was more familiar with. It called out to his battle-oriented side, and a bit of his barely-there bloodlust was sated. He was still not seen, but that did not bother him as much as it had in the beginning. He had great company in a chattering America and he found the silence outside of that to be comforting and peaceful, something his usual life-full-of-war had been lacking. Rome was pleased the girl learned so easily. When hunting, he taught her how to hunt much more effectively than the people she lived with. Deciding it would be worth his effort and his mind going on to start scheming without him fully knowing initially, he began to start teaching her diligently as if she were an apprentice or just a student. He taught her how to fight hand to hand combat with more prowess and organization known to his people than known to hers. After all, Romans were known soldiers and fighters. As for the sword, he held off mostly on that, considering there seemed to be no swords around there. He idly allowed some rudimentary lessons, using sticks, just so that she could at least get the basics and have a handle on them. For his own sword, he did not think she would be able to carry such a heavy and long thing just yet, and it probably wouldnt be safe to let such a young one wave around a sharp object with no expertise. He continued his patient teaching, broadening his topics and spreading lessons evenly between things. He also decided to teach her some of the other languages he had gotten at least a grasp on from the others hed conquered. Things were going along quite fine for him. Soon, years passed and he was Americas most constant and sometimes only companion. He continued teaching her, and started focusing a lot of his own culture. It was the thought ofif this seemingly ghostlike existence for him was permanent then he would live through America. He would live and rise again, even if it meant in the image of someone else. If it would take years, he could wait. He was a stubborn and prideful man, and he had never been picky about his wins. As long as he was patient, he could cultivate a path to his ascendance once more. He would not stay down forever. His enemies would come to fear him again and regret his fall. Rome also knew that America would be his greatest masterpiece, his grandest work of art. He treasured both his grandsons, but Italy (aside from the food, art and women) was nowhere near

like himself. And Romano was even less like Rome than his brother. No, America would be his true successor. All he needed was time. And apparently, he had that in plentiful grains of sand. Rome, will we be done soon? America asked him in boredom, idly tracing random pictures of animals into the ground. He smiled proudly to himself, hearing her speak perfect Latin. His little protge was coming along just fine alright. Soon, he soothed. Just a little more. I dont understand why you are teaching me the sword. No one uses it here, she looked to him. Because, he gazed back seriously. I admit your people are very skilled with the bow and arrow. In fact, very skilledbut sword fighting is in my blood and I want it to be in yours. If it is for you, then I will, she agreed simply. Rome tensed, jerking his head in a far off direction. He frowned to himself and America watched him worriedly. Stay here, America. I will come back soon, he told her firmly, clasping one of her shoulders tightly in caution. Okay, she mumbled, picking up her bunny and cuddling it to her chest. He then shot away, running full speed towards the direction where he felt the pull and could hear the water swaying faster than normal. Thrashing through the trees and bushes, uncaring of the branches that smacked and scratched against his skin and muscles, he made it passed all that to run into a stop near the end of the land where water met. Idly, he thought it an odd but wondrous thing that aside from America, animals and inanimate objects could see and physically touch him. Shaking his head of such useless thoughts, he gazed out to the ocean and found to his irritation and consternation, that his suspicions were correct. His worries were founded and his pride and work were at stake. The pull that came of other Nations coming closer. The sound of the waves rushing and indicating incoming ships.

And the innate sense of something huge and important to come; that feeling of premonition that his cards would soon come under attack. This did not bode well, but truthfully it didnt hinder him. He could handle himself and his work shouldnt be threatened, if he was confident of his progress. This was only a minor hitch in his plans, but it was nothing more than an inconvenience. Hed already laid his foundations and buried his roots so deep that he was now integrated into America, of that he was fully sure of. He glanced at the flying flags of the ships and bared his teeth. He quite recognized a lot of them, though some designs had been altered. Spaniard, he muttered. And even one that was totally unfamiliar, but whose presence seemed strongly recognizable reminded him a lot of the barbaric British tribes hed fought. But a group of them together brought a recollection of a tribe hed once fought and conquered, only for their Nation to end him in his final stand. Barbarians, he snarled, clenching his fists and tensing up for an attack, even though they were much far away to be within attacking distance. Every bone in his body screamed war and vengeance. Soon, he promised himself. Soon. After all, Rome wasnt built in a day. And now, it seemed, he had competition. However, he had years on these children when it came to America, and hed already spent so much time invested in her. His interest in her had been far longer than theirs. He would let nothing ruin him.

Chapter Two: I am Trapped Inside Because he was Rome. And he was the Emperor among Nations. It was, therefore, unacceptable that such upstarts were invading on his territory, though it was not actually his. Since spotting the incoming ships and the inevitable Nations aboard those ships, Rome had grumblingly taken his charge and expertly maneuvered around the intruders. He took care not to get caught or let America be seen (because he was still unbelievably invisible), and when she asked what was going on or why he was doing all this, he answered vaguely. Soon, he wouldnt be able to keep doing that. Oh, Rome knew that America would soon become impatient and would eventually do something to try to find things out on her own. She was young and impulsivity was common in the young. It had been a common trait with Italy and Romano. However, it helped to buy him time and try to find a favorable solution to his problem that cropped up. He was neither fully whole, it seemed, so he could not just pop out and simply force the others into submission. It seems that he would just have to then steer America towards the Nation that would benefit him (and her) and their situation the most. Perhapshed have to look in on the Nations and decide the best one, but for now his thoughts lingered on a few Nations. Hed prefer a more docile one, therefore one that would be the most malleable to America and which meant himself. He took time to do reconnaissance, studying the Nations that had arrived and would be the best candidate to not ruin his plans. Mildly, his thoughts went to France, who he saw had grown in the time hed been gone. The eccentric Nation was a fool, highly self-absorbed, and yet also wasnt too bad a power Nation. The resources and power was there, and he and America could wield such things much better than France ever could. Finland was also a good choice, if only because of how meek the Nation was. Then again, he wasnt as large or powerful of a Nation as France was, and there was that annoying Sweden to think of. He was also tempted to try a more obvious Germanic Nation, if only because his anger and bitterness clouded his head and screamed at him to use this opportunity to seek revenge. He was still somewhat sore at the missed opportunity to take some form of revenge against Germania, by attacking that Leif Erikson some centuries ago. It wasnt even restraint that kept him back, but this pitiful semi-incorporeal state he seemed to be stuck in. There was also that SpaniardHe was on par with France, and had actually been the first to come to the Americas, aside from Erikson (who was only human and didnt really count, as Spain arrived with the Italian Columbus and had actually spread the awareness of Americas lands to the others). Spain had reached closer to the south of Americas lands though, where he

understood that America had relinquished control over to some other Nation that he didnt fully know or fully understood the situation. Neither of them had been to the south for a while though, so they hadnt known that until it was after the fact and too late and all Nations had come to get their grubby hands on his protge. Still, this would be a good time to further observe the others and make a concrete decision. Then he could tell America and she would approach his choice, and soon enough things would fall into place. Keeping to that course of action, he decidedly went after the Nations to look and see before making a firmer choice in who could be the greatest asset to them and have guardianship over America. They were actually a rather pathetic lot. France, older now, was as youthful and perverted as ever. And then there was England, whose flag was the one he had sort of (but not really) recognized. His head tilted to the side and he watched the blond with thick eyebrows shout at the Frenchman. He remembered England well. He remembered defeating and forcing his mother, Britannia, to submit to him and conquering the British Isles. Albion, England had been called then. What Rome had called him. It did not seem as if that is what he was referred to nowadays, if the Frenchmans returned shouting indicated. He wondered about Lerne. How was she these days? Did she still cry at the drop of a helmet? Perhaps she still holds a grudge against England Rome felt rather old, with all these memories and recollections. Tis no matter, anyhow. He had a new start and he felt invigorated and ready to reclaim the new world. He would be a Conqueror once more, soon enough. He inwardly scoffed at England though. Still as silly as he remembered the younger Nation. It was laughable to even think, much less acknowledge, that England had grown up to be a formidable foe for the others, much less himself. He laughed outright no one could hear him anyways. He decided hed take a break and search out America, perhaps finally bring her up to speed and warn her of the other Nations as well as his future plans. Hed only gone a little ways off from the Nations, when he spotted a small child that looked remarkably like a smaller, child version of his enemy (ex-friend) Germania. His mind blanked and he saw red, rushing forward with the intent on attacking the little beast, and destroying the mirror image of his foe. Unfortunately, he only dove right through the little brat and landed roughly on the ground beside him. Another Germanic mercenary appeared, and Rome recognized him as another Nation Prussia. Once again older and taller, the albino Nation called out to the brat and had him follow him back to the Nations camp on the shores. Grumbling in his head and glaring at the retreating

backs of the Germanic Nations, he held back his snarl and forced himself to focus on his goal of finding America. When he still wasnt able to find her after nearly a half hour of searching, he unhappily went back to spy on the other Nations. Here, he saw Finland stumble into the camp, looking bruised and beat up. The fool mustve provoked one of the other Nations on the prowl and gotten thrashed for it. He halfheartedly listened, more worried about his little America and wondering where she had gone off to. It was only when Finland had stopped talking about his situation with Netherlands that he started giving his full attention, hearing the Nation talk about seeing a little girl peeking on Sweden and him and running away before they could come talk to her. Im worried. What if that poor little girl runs into Netherlands? Oh, shell get hurt! Rome narrowed his eyes. He did not like the idea of America being found out, or that these Nations now knew of her. He didnt like this new development, that didnt fit with his plans. He also disliked anyone hurting her, and he would not tolerate this Netherlands laying a hand on his successor. He wouldnt let anyone hurt America. He scowled as he saw France and England grow extremely interested looks on their faces. He disliked their interests too. The three of them questioned if America was one of them, and then they started to wonder if his little one could possibly be their little sister. He snorted. As if. They werent even worthy of being near her, much less being related to her by blood or adoption. France and England began to squabble over the ownership over America, and he inwardly began steaming with anger and mentally ranting in indignation at the nerve of those two, ignoring the weakling Finlands terrified watching. Once again, he left the fools as he went searching for America. However, the longer he could not find her, the longer he began to panic. Already, having let her out of his sight and not being able to find her last time, had led to her meeting with Finland and Sweden. Consequently, that led to the discovery of her existence to the others. What would happen now? Would she meet more Nations? Would some other horrible situation occur, that would definitely not meet with his approval? He couldnt allow anything else to happen, and he hadnt liked things getting out of his control like this. Anything more out of his control was just unacceptable. He was nearing the end of his rope when he finally saw his little one. Except she was being confronted by both France and England, where France was attempting to tempt America with his cuisine and England had gone to sulk.

And then he saw America move passed France and worriedly go over to England, asking if he was okay. France pouted about being rejected and England started to rejoice and smile happily at America for being chosen over the frog. No. Absolutely not. Any Nation but England. He was a weakling and scrawny. He remembered him as a child spineless, cowardly. More content to play with magic and be useless, ending up always being so helpless. Rome couldnt stand it then and he wouldnt stand it now, knowing England would cripple America and make her soft and nave to the point of vulnerable and dependent (he too would want to shield her and protect her, but to make her weak and disgustingly frail was not something he wanted at all). No, he definitely did not like the idea of giving England custody over America, and would have chosen someone else. The very idea that England now was Americas physical guardian made him furious and easily balking at the idea. He would have even chosen Germania and any of his descendents (and he hated the lot of them), if simply because they were a strong race and full of warriors. It was something he could respect, as opposite to the likes of England, who was nothing short of anything but a warrior (and coming from a bunch of tribal, barbaric nation full of savages). She was to be a warrior queen. England stood in that path, and Rome wouldnt allow it. He would make America into a warrior queen, carve her into that image as he had meticulously planned from the beginning. Englands appointment as her guardian could potentially derail that, he felt it deep down inside. All of his carefully made notes and contemplations over who would be the best Nation to take care of America ruined. All because of a careless and unthinking choice (plain carelessness and thoughtlessness on his part) made by he and America. All of his carefully made plans were unraveling, all because he didnt keep a closer eye on her and because she hastily went over to comfort England and chose him of all Nations. He was not happy with this turn of events, not happy at all. He hated that England was now Americas caretaker, and he unfortunately was unable to do anything about it. But he would just have to make do and adapt to the new change, adjust his plans to fit accordingly, and manipulate the current situation to America and his advantage. There was no use crying over something that was already done. He was upset, but he would overcome this as he had with everything else. Still, he kept his face stony and unhappy as America turned in Englands arms and caught sight of him. She looked hesitant and wary, but kept still and childlike in Englands arms as the thick eye-browed Nation happily walked back to camp with her in his arms, intent on showing her off and eagerly spreading the news that she was his little sister and that shed actually chosen him.

He kept silent and kept his distance the entire time, letting America be on her own and be with her new guardian. He ignored any of the glances she sent over to him, ones that grew more desperate as time passed, and only either returned them stoically or looked away indifferently. He followed after the two when England went to the house hed had built in the first of colonies hed claimed in Americas lands, where he brought her to her new room and where he promised to fix it up for her soon. Rome watched in the corner as England tenderly sung America to sleep, her long lashes fluttering until she finally closed them completely. England smiled fondly, brushing a hand through her hair, before he laid a brief kiss on her forehead and then departed to downstairs. The former Empire Nation leaned against the wall and waited. He looked at America coolly and her bright blue eyes snapped opened, and she stared back at him with them unblinking. I thought I told you to stay put, he said quietly, pursing his lips. I was bored, she said simply. And you left me behind. You were gone. For a long time. He narrowed his eyes, starting to scowl. I was scared. That made him blink and reflexively flinch back. And then she started to bite her lip, her eyes widening and beginning to water as she looked at him sadly. He crumbled easily. Italy had once used similar tactics against him (although his grandson hadnt been too bright and probably wasnt purposeful about doing so), and he had been weak to them and succumbed to those eyes more often than not. It was no different this time (and he was a little unsure whether or not America, on the other hand, was purposely utilizing such devastating eyes she was much more calculating and scheming than Italy, and very much more like Rome in this manipulative way). Ah, my adorably and so sweet America! he loudly proclaimed, having no fear of being overheard due to his state, and promptly tackled the little Nation and swung her in his arms as he tightly embraced her. She blinked and pouted to herself. Dont be so sad, my little cherub~ Rome still cares for you very much so, Angelus, he crooned, as he rubbed his cheek against hers fondly. We will just have more work to do, is all. This little setback is nothing to Rome I will teach you to conquer, my darling regina. Yes, his little American Queen will soon learn to be an Empire soon enough, with his diligent and careful guidance.

Chapter Three: Mother England Rome was still a bit put off, but he had largely cooled on the subject of England. Instead, he reviewed Englands history that he knew of, but he was much too young to really be of use when Rome had been in the picture. Britannia had been there, uncouth though she was. She was still very fierce and there were huge marks of intelligence that flashed in her eyes, hidden behind barbarianism and savage behavior. Over the time in which he had her as part of his Empire, she had been tamed slightly and was becoming cultured, which at least he saw the results of in England. If only the fierce part of Britannia had survived in England! Then the other Nation could actually be useful in helping to mold America into the likes of Britannias Boudica. Now that was a woman he could acknowledge, though also pity and shake his head at for daring to stand up to the likes of him and his mortal kinsmen Its a shame that his Romans had disliked the idea of strong and intelligent women so much back thenHis favorite, and probably the first (or at least the most memorable of them to him) of the mortal women hed come across had been Queen Cleopatra VII of Egypt. Bright, lovely woman. Hed always enjoyed talking with her (and switching several languages and practicing them with her, also rather impressed that she was able to keep pace with him), for all the times hed visited her with Julius or later on, Antony. It really was a damn shame, especially in that his Romans had been so against her, and of her death in the end. He had hoped to be able to comfort her at the loss of everything and Antony (and Julius, as he had never been able to do so at the time of his old friends death) and even sleep with her without worry or disrespect to two old friends, as a woman he respected and admired, and especially as a mortal. But alas rebellious and defiant to the end, that woman. He had, quietly, mourned to himself, knowing of his people and his governments outlook on her. He had been quite pleased, though surprised, to see the effigy Octavian excuse him, Augustus had ordered made in the image of her with an asp, and had paraded (strangely respectfully, though neither Augustus himself, or anyone else, had said anything) it through the streets of Rome for his triumph. Even if the effigy had been made to disrespect and mock her and insult her memory, as all would like to claim, such a profound silence from his people and Augustus odd and dare he say incriminating behavior spoke much and opposite such claims. Romes people may have hated her, but in the end of it all, they could not help but respect and admire her as Rome did and be in awe of her and her legacy, especially as someone who had challenged and threatened Roman rule so much, and nearly been successful. This was a woman, in a time where women and importance of them was rare (leadership of women more so, and as a singular ruler), who had won over so many people, including two of Romes elite (maybe more) and inevitably the rest of Romes beloved people whether they wanted to or not, liked it or not. Rome also had strong suspicions that his first Emperor had harbored, while very secret, strong feelings for the late Queen. Which was made more obvious when her effigy had been tucked away in a private place (despite the triumph being over), and that Augustus had visited her statue practically religiously and obsessively every day until his death. He had also become extremely

fond and warmhearted towards Cleopatra Selene, the Queens daughter being doted upon with strong favoritism and growing up cared for and with the favor of the Emperor. He had sighed frequently and lamented many times about the situation to Egypt and Greece, but Egypt (growing rather cold and a little more distant since the death of her favorite mortal) had merely given him one of her enigmatic smiles before leaving him at those times. Greece, on the other hand, had laid gentle hands upon him and had told him softly that Egypt will always mourn, Augustus will always reap his rewards and more so his consequences, and it will all always be that way. And that nothing could change that. It was as she said, he supposed. It still seemed rather begotten that Selene had probably never gotten to know that the reason why the Emperor had practically treated her as if she was his own (and in reality, really had been integrated into Augustus immediate family, and rather too easily at that), was because Augustus had probably been rather deeply infatuated with her mother and maybe even desperately wished Selene had been his with her, and could possibly had imaginedpretendedin his darkest hours Such a nonexistent relationship Augustus had with the late Queen, so reminiscent of the one he and Egypt slowly echoed after Cleopatras deathto the point that she simply vanished one day, leaving her son behind. Greece and her son had ended up taking care of the young Nation. Rome had simply turned indifferently the other way. Inwardly, he grieved the loss of both of his Egyptian Queens. It was a thought that Augustus had loved and lost a woman he never had, and Rome idly thought back to his own paramours. He even wondered if Augustus obsession and unrequited affection had been so strong, that in his weaker times had he thought of using Selene as a replacement for his defiant queen (or if he sometimes saw Cleopatra in heror in place of her, sometimes mistaking or seeing an overlap to create an illusion). He was getting old. He kept reminiscing too much, and remembering things from back then. He really needed to stop being stuck in his glory days and keep to the present, where he had a new claim and a new start to life. He looked down at the child on his lap on the bed England had provided for her, and threaded his hand through her blonde locks. On the topic of queens which brought him back to his original thought. He had no doubts he could make America a conqueror and a queen in time, regardless of the newest predicament thrown his way. Even if England would be there, Rome would be there as well. He could always correct the Nations teachings to America in stride, and he would help mold and teach America to the side and in secret, even in the face of England teaching her physically and to the rest of the world. Rome wasnt gone after all.

And though he felt that England would probably teach her how to be ladylike (which wasnt too bad, as he knew America was a lady and culture was always important Greece had stressed that to him many a times), Rome could always be the one to focus on the aggressive, fighting part. There was also that, since Rome couldnt truly and fully teach America to fight, intelligence was an extremely prized and important part he could focus on in place of. Both Boudica and Cleopatra had had that in spades he would make sure America would be no different. America? the door opened slightly and England had softly called out to their now shared charge, as he poked his head in. Rome mildly watched him, curious to how England would handle his new colony. He watched closely as the blond hesitantly approached Americas sleeping form, tentatively shaking her small shoulder. America, would you like some breakfast? America made a cute noise and stretched, making both England and Rome coo at the adorableness. Then she sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking cutely and then looking at England. Food? England nodded eagerly and held out his arms, and Rome had to force back a growl. America surreptitiously patted his hand before she continued to crawl across the bed and into Englands arms. With that, England cheerfully carried America downstairs with Rome following them. Rome cringed at the food that was laid out, more so when both America and England started eating it without complaint. England, he remembered, couldnt tell good food from horse shit. Americadear her, she should know better from all the years with him. He face palmed and focused on not instinctively imagining the taste of Englands cooking, which would inevitably lead him to throwing up in his mouth. Afterwards, England was cleaning up and had allowed America to go venture outside. England finished up quickly and hurried out to keep an eye on the little girl Nation wandering about outside. Rome tsked and shook his head. America could take care of herself, and had long before England had been there long before Rome even. But England still fussed over and watched with an overprotective air that rather amused Rome, who wouldnt admit that he slightly echoed the feeling, and watched as America ran around the fields. And then there was a bison nearby and England was quick to warn her away from it. Then America grabbed its front hooves and was miraculously swinging it around in circles playfully, astonishing both England and Rome. Rome really should have known better though. Hes lived with her longer

I guess shell be able to take care of herself just fine England murmured fondly. He let her play a little bit longer before calling her in, and Rome had a feeling something was about to be announced that would further change things. America, Im going to have to go back to the mainland soon, England immediately started, once hed sat her down. America watched him with wide eyes and Rome frowned, trying to figure out what would this mean for them. I want you to come with me, England said earnestly, face matching his tone as he took both of Americas smaller hands in his. America blinked, surprised, and took a discreet glance at Rome, who tilted his head and allowed her to choose. Okay, she said simply, and England broke out into a wide grin. Youll love it there! Ill show you all the sites and show you everything. America tentatively smiled and Rome plotted. + + + + + + America tugged at her skirt and frowned. She glared at the amused look on Romes face. What? She glared harder at him. Its pretty, he consoled her. Its heavy, she retorted. It is pretty, she reluctantly conceded. But all these ruffles and stuff make it hard to move in. And makes it heavy. And Im just not used to it. They shared equal sighs at the elaborate clothing that people outside of Americas lands seemed fond of wearing. America! Were about to leave soon, England called out from the front.

America sighed again and gathered up her skirt, her small arms having trouble getting them all and holding them. She grumbled, ignoring Romes chuckles, as she had to practically waddle down the stairs and to where England was. At least she didnt have to complete her travel down, as at seeing her trouble walking, England went over to her and immediately scooped her up into his arms. And dont you look beautiful, England made a pleased hum and set her down after they were at the bottom of the stairs. He straightened down her gown, smiling at her light blush, and meticulously fixed strands of her hair around her face. The court will love you, England beamed at her. King George definitely will. His grandfather, George also, would have been very pleased with you, but His current Highness will be delighted to have something going right, after having to pull out of Austrias war for you. I wish you could have met Elizabeth though. Now that was a royal and she would have found you absolutely perfect, my dear. Its only too bad George is more known for his bad qualities; hes quite the man with foreign policy and military work. I suppose youll get to see for yourself, when you meet him. Rome was rolling his eyes in the background, and America frowned at him in Englands arms. Play nice, she mouthed to him from around England. Rome smirked. Alright, America. Its time we set off to sea, England picked her back up. America had never been out to sea before. She decided she didnt like it. It was cold on the way, and England had warned her it was colder and even often rainy where he lived. And it was so bumpy! The waves werent favorable to their ship and often it was being rocked to and fro on the cold waters. Perhaps because it was her first experience or she just wasnt used to it. Either way, America spent a large amount of time being miserable in her bed, often crying or curling into a ball on it. England would fuss over her frequently, tucking in the blanket around her, talking randomly to keep her occupied or focused on him instead of the ride, and just generally trying to make her feel better. She really liked his hugs too. But sometimes, when England couldnt help her, the quiet and soothing presence of Rome was familiar and comforting, and she easily fell asleep to the soft brushing of his calloused hand through her hair. One day, America was pouting on her bed, curled up with her knees tucked in, and Englands huge blanket around her. She had her hands clutching it close from inside of it from where she

was burrowed. England entered and glanced at her, becoming amused at her position, more so when she burrowed further into the blanket, her blue eyes angrily glaring at him from over the top of the blanket (and consequently now the only thing that could be seen of her, except for her blonde hair). Youll be glad to know were here, America. Rome perked up. Finally, they were there. And he could see the differences from the old world, see if Greece was referred to as Ancient now, as Egypt had, what advances had been made And then they were taking a step onto Londinium. His eyes widened at the changes, seeing the buildings and the technology that had evolved. As well as the people bustling about, wearing similar clothes to America and England, but some even more elaborate. Londinium, America muttered in awe. England stopped short, staring at her in puzzlement, though he was still smiling. What was that? She cleared her throat in embarrassment. Lo-Lodinum, she purposely phrased it awkwardly. London, dear, England smiled brightly. Isnt that wonderful? Youre so smart! Already, youre catching onto languages and learning so quickly. England eagerly grabbed her hand, leading her into the building where she was to meet everyone. America hid her twitching lips, refraining from smiling in amusement, while Rome huffed in exasperation. America knows how to talk quite fine, Rome said dryly at Englands back. Shes quite capable, thank you very much. America choked back a laugh. Are you alright, America? England stopped and asked worriedly. She gave him a wide smile to reassure him and then they were walking again. This, America, seems to be your official debut to the world. Make it worthwhile and unforgettable, Angelus. Demure, America. Demure, Rome finished up quietly.

And America inwardly sighed and prepared herself, before straightening and readying to act with all the manners Rome taught her and what little England had managed to teach before hurrying her to his home, combining them to her liking.

Chapter Four: The Dividing Line America had spent a year with England in his Mother Country. England had quickly taught her and caught her up to the modern world, and Rome benefited from the lessons alongside her. He had been surprised to learn that England actually was somewhat of a conqueror, and a smidgen (a smidgen!) of pride entered him when hed learned of that. Perhaps he had been more of an influence on England than hed thought. He had also felt a bit lightened at that, because perhaps he wouldnt have to correct or un-teach too much of Englands teachings to America. And he was also amused to hear of Englands exploits as a former pirate, having remembered some of his own encounters with pirates, including that of the infamous meet and greet of Julius kidnapping and subsequent return to cut down the fools. Rome had also regretfully learned about both Greece and Egypt not only being referred as Ancients, but also having faded away. However, a year later, England was forced to send America back to her homelands. The Nation had fretted over this excessively, not wanting to part with her and also because he couldnt be with her on the journey back. America, actually, was the one who would calm and reassure her fellow blond Nation. She just simply smiled brightly and cutely leaned towards him, tugging at the ends of his hair with her little fingers as she spoke in her now perfect English that it was alright and she didnt mind, as long as he wrote to her regularly. England practically melted into goo. (So did Rome, but he wasnt going to mention that.) And so it was, that America and Rome was sent back to her home and where theyd also caught up with what was going on in Americas home since theyd been gone. Things had been updated. There was a lot more foreigners in her land, and Americas natives had started to feel restless and subdued (and even a bit violent and angry). And, though America had been kept from it in England (Rome had suspicions, since shed been somewhat sick at times), there had been a lot ofkillings of her people on her lands. She hadnt been happy about it at all. However, for those who were originally of her land (yet had also long been immigrants of themselves long ago) and of those who were new and moving there, she tried to make peace and keep them on equal grounds. The newcomers had become part of her and she would welcome them openly. But it was hard to make everyone happy. However, America was doing the best that she could and Rome was very proud of his little one. Exceptshe wasnt quite so little anymore. Her introduction to the world, her integration into

the collection of personified Nations, and the rapid growth of her lands and her world because of it, had caused little America to grow herself. The years were passing and Rome watched her grow before his eyes. Soon, America was no longer a little girl, but a very beautiful young woman. He could guess in the middle of the springtime of her youth, fifteen or sixteen. The eyes of his ghostly body could not help but admire her new femininely curved body, and watched her slender limbs as she moved around like the vibrant youth she still was. The bright happy smile she always wore was, as always, on soft pouty lips that shed always had, but had now become much more enticing. Her blue eyes, the color of her skies, were as pretty and clear as ever, but she had moments where they darkened into a deep sky blue and her eyes hooded and he could not help but watch her hungrily He watched her like a hungry wolf, with a gaze that would have made Romulus and Remus proud. She was nearly as tall as him too. Slim and lean, and as graceful as he and England had taught her to be. If shed been a man, he had no doubt grace would have been the last thing on his mind, but as a proud, beautiful woman, she carried herself like the queen hed wanted. Even her childlike and happy nature carried an undercurrent of regality and elegance one would not expect to match with a bright, open, and outgoing personality. And when she was serious, her poise and charm was all the more obvious. Yes, he was very proud of his masterpiece. Things had even been coming along fine, and America was starting to get the hang of the migration of people, and of how mixed the lot were. And she took care, trying her best to keep peace between her natives and the ones whod come onto her land upon her reveal to the world. And then England came back. He had been watching as America was about to start on breakfast, idly chattering about how shed slipped into the crowd of people and pretended to be one of them, observing and interacting with them curiously. And then there had been a polite knock on the door, and America had opened it to see a familiar blond Nation that Rome had been hoping to never see again and to have forgotten forever. Englands happy and hopeful smile greeted America and the continuously incorporeal Rome. The Nations eyes were closed, as if he were expecting a hit or was afraid to see America standing there angry and resentful of such a long absence. But it surprised even Rome when she took a few steps forward quickly and threw herself at England, willingly going into the others arms and embracing him back. Rome frowned to himself as he watched, not at all happy and feeling the stirrings of jealousy on his part, as he uneasily looked on.

When England realized the difference in mass and weight of his once miniature little ball of sunshine, he opened his eyes in astonishment and finally saw the growth of his colony. And then when America extracted herself from his arms and stood back sheepishly, England could only gaze in awe and shock at the much taller and older America. And like Rome, he guiltily noticed her beautiful form, and had to rapidly backtrack his thoughts and shove down away feelings he felt he shouldnt feel for his little sister. Romes body immediately shifted into a tense and defensive structure, glaring at the other Nation. While America remained oblivious, he could see and witness the beginnings of Englands feelings starting to change and morph already, and the early stages of attraction forming from the Nation to their shared charge. He was, after all, in a similar predicament. But Rome always won, and he wouldnt lose to this little boy. England found out she was just about to start on breakfast and eagerly offered to cook for her, and she agreed without a protest. Rome scrunched up his nose in disgust, but she only gave him an amused look while he glanced at England and cringed. He nonchalantly thought that England had a chance against him if he ever managed to choke some of his food down Romes throat and murder him with it. That night, as England told her regretfully of his needs to go out and see how things are and find out the situation, America had fallen asleep quickly as it turned dark out. Rome took his usual spot by her, on his side of the bed, lying on his stomach as he observed her peaceful, sleeping face. Her silky blonde tresses almost looked like they were glowing in the moonlight. He moved his hand through them as he gazed down at her, having moved up slightly onto his elbows. England had left hours ago by now, but it only meant more time for Rome to be alone with his regina. She was young, certainly. But it wasnt an issue with him. Especially not when it came to her, his precious girl. So suddenly, his paternal feelings had turned into a darker realmPerhaps, they had never been paternal in the first place. He knew that he and America had shared an unusual and complex relationship since the beginning. The easiest way hed tried to describe it was master-apprentice, but he quickly saw that they were much closer than that, so hed easily swapped it with more familial terms. But it never sat right, because America was not anywhere near someone he felt like family to, though he was completely sure of that they were as close to (if not closer) in those terms of relationship. Rome knew then, that hed always wanted America to be his queen. His queen.

When England would come later that night (very late, Rome noted), Rome watched with sharp eyes as England would check in on America. The English Nation watched from the entrance to her bedroom, a fond smile on his face as looked upon the other blonde in the room. But then his smile faltered and he retreated quickly, closing the door with an uneasy click. The subsequent nights were all too alike, and Rome watched as the other started to feel affection that only he was allowed to cultivate for America. One night, America was up later than usual, reading a book Rome had wanted her to read to continue her education. It was late and stretching the time in which America really, really should go to sleep, when England entered again, opening the door without his usual knock. The blond flushed red. Im sorry, America. I thought you were asleep and was checking up on you. Rome watched. Ill be in bed in a bit, after I mark my page, England, she promised, smiling widely. He started to clench his hands into angry fists. Wouldwould you like to sleep with me tonight, America? Like old times, England sheepishly asked. The former empirical Nation shook angrily, but stayed silent and continued to watch the proceedings. America blinked in surprise, before continuing to smile and nodded her head. Sure! That would be nice, England. Ill change first. He couldnt help but glare at the other male viciously. Ah, me too, England grinned slightly. Ill see you in a bit then. He wanted nothing more than to charge forward and choke the other into submission, and show him what a real conqueror could do. But still Rome watched. When America turned to him, he had quickly composed himself and his face was stoic and unrevealing. He nodded evasively to her, her questioning look diminishing. When England returned, knocking this time, he entered and smiled slightly at America and slipped into bed beside her. The two faced each other, and America gave a brief smile at England before closing her eyes and having no trouble falling into an easy sleep.

England didnt echo her. Instead, he lay on his side and slowly reached out his trembling hand to touch the side of her face, lightly caressing her skin as he gave a look of wonderment towards the girl, one that Rome could understand the other would have, but did not like seeing it on anyone else towards America. The two sleeping together also agitated Rome, but it had been common when America was a child. Now it did even more, seeing as she was much more grown up. Goodnight, Sweetheart, England murmured, and he fell asleep still holding his hand to Americas face. For now, Germania and his descendants would have to wait. Rome would be focusing on waging this silent war against this former Pirate Nation. He would like to show England how he dealt with pirates, and it would make what Julius Caesar did to his captives children games in comparison. However, right then, Rome could only watch them. It was all he could do at the moment. + + + + + + It was the year 1754. It was the year that England finally and unfortunately (in Romes opinion) came back into their lives. It was also the year the French and Indian War would begin, with tension rising to alarming heights and the British colonies would fight against the French colonies, with some of Americas natives allying with the French. It was the year that America was inducted into the hell that was the life living amongst other Nations, where conflicts were bound to happen and there was no escaping or keeping peace for everyone involved, as she so realized as she continuously threw up in the basin, with England tenderly holding her hair back and murmuring comforting words into her ear, sounding regretful and apologetic. It was his war, but in return it had become hers.

Throwing up again, she cried into the basin and sobbed and just begged for the pain and sickness to go away. She looked up with teary eyes, seeing Rome watch her solemnly. His gaze was unwavering and he didnt look pitying nor had any trace of sympathy. He merely watched, but then smiled sadly. Be strong, he formed the words, though his voice stayed silent. Because it was only the start, now that she was a known Nation. He knew this life, and had even thrived on it. He would teach her endurance and make her refuse to buckle down. It couldnt be helped now that everyone knew of her, and Rome would make sure that she would be like him and not fold from the pressure. She would even rise up, if he had any say in the matter. This was neither the first nor the last of her sick spells, even when England was forced to go back overseas and continue to fight France there as well. But he made the point to come back and forth frequently, trying not to stray from Americas side. It was the year 1754, and it was the year where both Rome and England started to have feelings for their charge. When it was all over, it was the year 1763 and Rome had been watching over his exhausted regina. She lay on her bed, pale and with dark circles under her eyes, and sweat coating her smooth skin. It hurts, doesnt it, Angelus? he murmured, standing above her bedside and towering over her. Its painful and awful, and England has been part of the cause because of this war. Wasnt he? And he would continue to whisper words of sedition into her ears, longing and knowing it wouldnt be long until it was time for him and her to break away from England finally. She didnt answer, and her pretty but dulled eyes only blinked tiredly at him. America? America, I have a surprise for you, Englands voice echoed from downstairs, and Rome turned his body slightly to face the door, as America barely moved her eyes. England knocked, per usual, and entered. He walked in quickly, and both America and Rome were surprised to see a male that was rather similar-looking to America tentatively walk in behind England. England smiled excitedly. America, this is your twin brother, Canada. Hell be living with us for now on.

The two siblings stared at each other, before America, the first in a long while, began to smile brightly and greet her new brother happily. Canadas breath hitched in his throat at the action, and he immediately began to feel a warm feeling and already protectiveness towards her. C-Canada! Im America, her smile widened. And then she promptly passed out. As England and Canada rushed over to her and began to fret in panic, Rome frowned to himself as he pushed aside his own worry. This newbrother. If he did not interfere in Romes plan, then he could be tolerated. When Canada looked up to address England in distress, he accidentally caught the look on the others face towards his new sister. America, England murmured, threading his hand through her hair tenderly. In that moment, both Canada and Rome could easily see that England definitely did not see or have feelings of America as family, not in the way England had asked Canada to view him as an older brother or even a father figure. The light in his eyes, the fondness that was too fond, the care and tenderness he showed towards her, and the obvious affection spoke volumes.