England tries to use his magic on the Axis’ to help them win the war. Unfortunately it goes terribly wrong and accidentally turns Alfred into a child with no memories, all he knows is that he is a nation. He runs away from England who scares him and runs into Germany.
Internal struggle inside Germany to either kill one of his greatest enemies and win the war or take him in. He chooses to take him in and raise him. America almost immediately warms up completely to Germany, hamburgers!, and looks up to him like a son would to a father. In fact he looks up to him so much that he decides to be a Hitler Youth. So Alfred as a Hitler Youth is a must!
Bonus: Other countries reactions to not only his love for Germany but also Alfred becoming a Hitler Youth.
Bonus 2: PapaGermany and MamaItaly, along with Uncles Prussia and Japan.
Re: Accidental magic turns Alfred into a child and is raised by Germany.
Ah, screw it. I’ll take this one on anyway. It’ll bug me until I do.
September 3 1939, 7:33pm
This war wasn’t going to end up like the Great War. Not if England had anything to say about it. He spent two days researching and preparing, pouring over every tome in his library. After 48 hours with no sleep, he found the perfect spell and he was closing in on Germany’s house.
He was hiding in the bushes, keeping silent and breathless. Any moment now, Germany would walk out that door.
England opened a leather-bound book. The movement of his arms caused the bush to rustle and he stopped immediately. He couldn’t hear anything but the chirping of birds, though, so he continued on. Wiping the sweat of his forehead, England turned to the pages he needed. In crisp, clean handwriting, the book said:
A reversal spell requires a pinch of faerie dust mixed with silver metal shavings, a clean white tunic, and a single unicorn hair. Sprinkle the faerie dust mixed with the metal shavings over thy tunic. With the hair in thy right hand, face thy target, then finish the spell with ‘Revertere’!
Of course, England had memorized it. He prepared everything in advance. He took a bottle of dust and silver shavings from a pocket(who says tunics can’t have pockets? Rubbish), and with the unicorn hair in his hand, he mentally prepared himself for what would happen. Germany would become a child again.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
America had been trying to track down England for the past few hours. England’s boss told him that the nation was very distressed when he heard what happened to Poland. England refused to leave the house for day or two. After his Prime Minister declared war on Germany, England up and left without telling anyone.
He found England in German territory three hours ago. So far, America hadn’t approached England yet, because technically, his people wanted him to stay out of European affairs.
America was in a bush not ten feet away from England, watching the older nation mutter to himself. And then, everything went to shit.
The only warning America had was the sound of birds chirping and boots scraping against dirt. Another nation, dressed in a black uniform, jumped out of the bushes and lunged for Al’s former guardian. America sprung into action without thinking. He body-slammed the newcomer. They landed with a thud.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
England snapped into action-there was rustling in the bushes right behind him, and a thud. Germany’s attacking me! The bastard. Arthur poured the mixed dust over his tunic, spun around, and crashed straight into the dirt. A wave of nausea hit him in the gut. The world around him turned into a grayish blur. The distressed voices of his people filled his mind…
’Aaaah! They’ve torpedoed us!’
‘How? They can’t do that, we’re a cruise ship!’
He heard some words being shouted in what sounded like German. You…you bastard! England stumbled around blindly, clawing the dirt, bushes, and trees. He heard the He managed to pull himself up-the angry shouting grew louder, so it must have meant he was getting closer. Still clutching the single unicorn hair, he grabbed the air, and miraculously came into contact with a strong, muscled chest. The nation was still blinded, but that didn’t matter so long as he could still speak.
“You’ll pay for this, foul kraut! REVERTERE!”
Both nations were blown straight off their feet from the power of the spell.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Notes: The attacker (it’s not Germany, but the nation does speak german) chose a very untimely (or timely, since I guess you did want to read this) moment to attack. A British cruise ship, the SS Athenia, was torpedoed by a German sub at 7:40pm on Sept. 3, 1939. The deaths of some of the passengers and crew distracted England for that one crucial minute.
^Darn it, forgot to title it...above post is part of fill
I'm so glad OP likes my humble fill. I'll have to do more research, but I intend to stick to history as much as possible for awhile, at least until Alfred is strong enough to contribute to the war effort.
He and the nation in the black uniform tumbled to the ground. The US of A had the mystery nation pinned face-down, so America couldn’t see who it was. Al heard several curses erupt from the other in German-he wondered for a second if the nation was Germany, but the hair was far too pale, nearly white. America noticed a small gold and black iron cross on the uniform jacket. He’s really pale, wears an iron cross, screams German curses…do I know anybody like that?
The nation under him elbowed Al in the stomach, hard. For some reason, it really hurt-a lot more than a simple hit to the stomach should. America felt very disoriented for a moment, just enough for the other nation to gain leverage and shove him off violently.
Staring straight into bright red eyes, America finally recognized the other nation. Prussia. That kinda made sense-he was Germany’s brother, wasn’t he? Prussia ignored Al and ran right part him. Alfred jumped up and shoved Prussia back into the bushes, eliciting more curses from the white-haired nation. Behind him, America heard England cry out in pain-he snapped around to see Arthur crawling on the ground and trying to grab hold of a tree. Alfred let out a squeak of heroic, manly surprise. He heard Prussia laughing-but he’d deal with the Prussian later.
England pulled himself up with the help of a tree. America was about to greet him, but then the nation lunged and grabbed him.
Arthur glared hard at him, and snarled. “You’ll pay for this, foul kraut!” ”-What-” “REVERTERE!”
Green light flooded Alfred’s vision and the smell of ozone flooded his nose.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Matthew shot up. He sat in the darkness for several moments, trying to figure out why he awoke so suddenly. Something didn’t feel right in Montreal, and he felt a vague sense of unease. He briefly wondered if it had something to do with Germany-somehow, he felt it was connected to the war brewing over in Europe.
Canada rubbed his eyes. He’d call Alfred in the morning and find out if anything interesting happened. Maybe he’d talk to England, too. Even if the man couldn’t be bothered to remember his name.
Morning. He’d talk to them tomorrow. Matthew lay back down on the bed and pulled the covers over his head.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The grayish blur faded from England’s eyes. As the dirt, the trees, and the nation infront of him came into focus, Arthur felt his throat constrict. For a minute, he believed himself to be having a flashback to a time he sorely missed-sitting across from him was little Alfred, looking roughly about eight human years old. Horror (and a guarded sort of hopefulness) gripped his heart as he realized things had gone very, very wrong.
“Alfred! I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean for…“ England instinctively reached out to hug the boy, to try and reassure him somehow.
The sudden movement seemed to startle the younger nation. The eight year old Alfred swatted Arthur’s hands away.
“GO AWAY!” The boy jumped away from him.
England’s heart sank when he saw the terror in little America’s eyes. He heard rustling in the bushes. He didn’t feel the blow to his head from behind, but as his eyes glazed over and sleep began to envelop him, England realized that was what happened. The back of his head felt warm and wet.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The boy-Alfred was his name, if that man was to be believed-felt uneasy around the older blond man. The man acted as if he knew Alfred, but the boy could swear he had never met the older man even once in his life. He turned away and started to run, but then he heard the other man’s body slump to the floor.
“Hey, kid.”
Alfred bolted.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Notes: Twin telepathy? Sure, why not. It sets up some stuff I’m planning later. There were some Americans (and two Canadian women, since it’s relevant) on the SS Athenia, so I imagine America would have had a slight reaction as well, though certainly not as much as England.
In the kitchen, a neatly dressed blond man sat at the table, studying a map of the European continent. The man had a very intense look of concentration, or maybe constipation; to be honest, Feliciano couldn’t tell the difference. Ludwig had been going over his country’s battle plans. Feliciano suggested “surrender”, but the other nation just ignored him.
“Let’s make pasta, you must be hungry by now, ve~?”
Germany didn’t complain; he just kept staring at the map, so Italy took that to mean, “Yes, you can make pasta, just don’t bother me right now!”
Italy put on an apron and started searching the kitchen for an adequate pasta pot. In the cabinet under the sink, he found a medium-sized pot that looked just about right. He filled it with water, and set it to boil.
Italy said, in his eternally cheerful and happy tone, “So, my boss and my brother, Romano, they want to stay out of the war right now. Signore Carlo told Il Duce that we won’t be prepared for a war for at least another two years. But I can still visit my good friend Germany!” That got Germany to look up briefly from his maps, and slowly nod. It was the most response Italy had gotten out of him all day. “So Italy is officially going to stay neutral?”
Italy turned away from his pasta-making, and asked quietly, “Are you mad at me?”
Germany turned to face him, looking dead tired. He shook his head, then returned his attention to the maps on the table.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Matthew coughed into his sleeve, feeling a little bit woozy. He’d woken up again-this time, he checked in with his boss. After finding out he was mistaken about the time, Canada got very irritated-why did his boss let him sleep in the middle of the afternoon? His boss replied that he’d looked a bit unwell.
It was true he felt mildly drowsy, but Canada didn’t admit that to his boss. Instead, he called Alfred-no answer, and he was apparently out to Europe at the moment. He called England-there was no answer from the older country, either.
Pacing around his room in frustration, he worked up the courage to brave verbal molestation by France. He called Francis, asking if anything interested had happened over there, and if he’d heard from England yet.
In a hushed, low tone, the nation said, “I haven’t been able to contact notre cher ami, Angleterre, at all. The past three days, he has completely ignored me. Not that I am not used to that, but you would think he would be willing to speak to me given the circumstances, non?” A pause. “And you say that Amerique is unavailable as well?” There was another, longer pause. “Either those two have finally resolved the, ah, sexual tension between them-” Matthew winced, trying to banish the thought from his head. ”-or Germany is up to something rotten, I think…”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Italy was happily chatting at Germany. The nation did not respond positively or negatively to it, so Italy assumed Germany didn’t have a problem with it. He was pouring the noodles in the pot and wishing that his boss had chosen less depressing black uniforms for the army, when Italy noticed something strange outside the window. It was a blond-haired child, sitting in Germany’s super-neat and obsessively well-trimmed garden. A nation, Italy sensed.
“Germany, look! There’s someone outside, and he’s a nation, but I don’t recognize him, ve~!”
Notes: Italy remained neutral for a while, despite being an Axis Power. Il Duce refers to Mussolini, and Signore Carlo is Mr. Carlo Favagrossa, the italian Under-Secretary for War Production during WWII.
Sorry, it's a bit short. But hey, it's an update! Alfred will meet Germany next chapter.
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Accidental magic turns Alfred into a child and is raised by Germany.
(Anonymous) 2010-08-15 02:30 am (UTC)(link)Internal struggle inside Germany to either kill one of his greatest enemies and win the war or take him in. He chooses to take him in and raise him. America almost immediately warms up completely to Germany, hamburgers!, and looks up to him like a son would to a father. In fact he looks up to him so much that he decides to be a Hitler Youth. So Alfred as a Hitler Youth is a must!
Bonus: Other countries reactions to not only his love for Germany but also Alfred becoming a Hitler Youth.
Bonus 2: PapaGermany and MamaItaly, along with Uncles Prussia and Japan.
Re: Accidental magic turns Alfred into a child and is raised by Germany.
(Anonymous) 2010-08-31 05:12 am (UTC)(link)September 3 1939, 7:33pm
This war wasn’t going to end up like the Great War. Not if England had anything to say about it. He spent two days researching and preparing, pouring over every tome in his library. After 48 hours with no sleep, he found the perfect spell and he was closing in on Germany’s house.
He was hiding in the bushes, keeping silent and breathless. Any moment now, Germany would walk out that door.
England opened a leather-bound book. The movement of his arms caused the bush to rustle and he stopped immediately. He couldn’t hear anything but the chirping of birds, though, so he continued on. Wiping the sweat of his forehead, England turned to the pages he needed. In crisp, clean handwriting, the book said:
A reversal spell requires a pinch of faerie dust mixed with silver metal shavings, a clean white tunic, and a single unicorn hair. Sprinkle the faerie dust mixed with the metal shavings over thy tunic. With the hair in thy right hand, face thy target, then finish the spell with ‘Revertere’!
Of course, England had memorized it. He prepared everything in advance. He took a bottle of dust and silver shavings from a pocket(who says tunics can’t have pockets? Rubbish), and with the unicorn hair in his hand, he mentally prepared himself for what would happen. Germany would become a child again.
America had been trying to track down England for the past few hours. England’s boss told him that the nation was very distressed when he heard what happened to Poland. England refused to leave the house for day or two. After his Prime Minister declared war on Germany, England up and left without telling anyone.
He found England in German territory three hours ago. So far, America hadn’t approached England yet, because technically, his people wanted him to stay out of European affairs.
America was in a bush not ten feet away from England, watching the older nation mutter to himself. And then, everything went to shit.
The only warning America had was the sound of birds chirping and boots scraping against dirt. Another nation, dressed in a black uniform, jumped out of the bushes and lunged for Al’s former guardian. America sprung into action without thinking. He body-slammed the newcomer. They landed with a thud.
England snapped into action-there was rustling in the bushes right behind him, and a thud. Germany’s attacking me! The bastard. Arthur poured the mixed dust over his tunic, spun around, and crashed straight into the dirt. A wave of nausea hit him in the gut. The world around him turned into a grayish blur. The distressed voices of his people filled his mind…
’Aaaah! They’ve torpedoed us!’
‘How? They can’t do that, we’re a cruise ship!’
He heard some words being shouted in what sounded like German. You…you bastard! England stumbled around blindly, clawing the dirt, bushes, and trees. He heard the He managed to pull himself up-the angry shouting grew louder, so it must have meant he was getting closer. Still clutching the single unicorn hair, he grabbed the air, and miraculously came into contact with a strong, muscled chest. The nation was still blinded, but that didn’t matter so long as he could still speak.
“You’ll pay for this, foul kraut! REVERTERE!”
Both nations were blown straight off their feet from the power of the spell.
Notes: The attacker (it’s not Germany, but the nation does speak german) chose a very untimely (or timely, since I guess you did want to read this) moment to attack. A British cruise ship, the SS Athenia, was torpedoed by a German sub at 7:40pm on Sept. 3, 1939. The deaths of some of the passengers and crew distracted England for that one crucial minute.
^Darn it, forgot to title it...above post is part of fill
(Anonymous) 2010-08-31 05:14 am (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2010-08-31 06:08 am (UTC)(link)Love, total love.
I also have a secret love for when people put actual history in fics. You touched that part, thanks! :Dauthor!anon
(Anonymous) 2010-08-31 06:27 am (UTC)(link)America Of The Axis! [2/?] Read first part^
(Anonymous) 2010-09-02 10:19 am (UTC)(link)The nation under him elbowed Al in the stomach, hard. For some reason, it really hurt-a lot more than a simple hit to the stomach should. America felt very disoriented for a moment, just enough for the other nation to gain leverage and shove him off violently.
Staring straight into bright red eyes, America finally recognized the other nation. Prussia. That kinda made sense-he was Germany’s brother, wasn’t he? Prussia ignored Al and ran right part him. Alfred jumped up and shoved Prussia back into the bushes, eliciting more curses from the white-haired nation. Behind him, America heard England cry out in pain-he snapped around to see Arthur crawling on the ground and trying to grab hold of a tree. Alfred let out a squeak of heroic, manly surprise. He heard Prussia laughing-but he’d deal with the Prussian later.
England pulled himself up with the help of a tree. America was about to greet him, but then the nation lunged and grabbed him.
Arthur glared hard at him, and snarled. “You’ll pay for this, foul kraut!” ”-What-” “REVERTERE!”
Green light flooded Alfred’s vision and the smell of ozone flooded his nose.
Matthew shot up. He sat in the darkness for several moments, trying to figure out why he awoke so suddenly. Something didn’t feel right in Montreal, and he felt a vague sense of unease. He briefly wondered if it had something to do with Germany-somehow, he felt it was connected to the war brewing over in Europe.
Canada rubbed his eyes. He’d call Alfred in the morning and find out if anything interesting happened. Maybe he’d talk to England, too. Even if the man couldn’t be bothered to remember his name.
Morning. He’d talk to them tomorrow. Matthew lay back down on the bed and pulled the covers over his head.
The grayish blur faded from England’s eyes. As the dirt, the trees, and the nation infront of him came into focus, Arthur felt his throat constrict. For a minute, he believed himself to be having a flashback to a time he sorely missed-sitting across from him was little Alfred, looking roughly about eight human years old. Horror (and a guarded sort of hopefulness) gripped his heart as he realized things had gone very, very wrong.
“Alfred! I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t mean for…“ England instinctively reached out to hug the boy, to try and reassure him somehow.
The sudden movement seemed to startle the younger nation. The eight year old Alfred swatted Arthur’s hands away.
“GO AWAY!” The boy jumped away from him.
England’s heart sank when he saw the terror in little America’s eyes. He heard rustling in the bushes. He didn’t feel the blow to his head from behind, but as his eyes glazed over and sleep began to envelop him, England realized that was what happened. The back of his head felt warm and wet.
The boy-Alfred was his name, if that man was to be believed-felt uneasy around the older blond man. The man acted as if he knew Alfred, but the boy could swear he had never met the older man even once in his life. He turned away and started to run, but then he heard the other man’s body slump to the floor.
“Hey, kid.”
Alfred bolted.
Notes: Twin telepathy? Sure, why not. It sets up some stuff I’m planning later. There were some Americans (and two Canadian women, since it’s relevant) on the SS Athenia, so I imagine America would have had a slight reaction as well, though certainly not as much as England.
Re: America Of The Axis! [2/?] Read first part^
(Anonymous) 2010-09-02 10:33 am (UTC)(link)(Woot for twin telepathy!)
Re: America Of The Axis! [2/?] Read first part^
(Anonymous) 2010-09-02 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-02 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)Aw for England when he was trying to comfort Al and was remembering when Al was his colony.
Another wonderful part. Can't wait for the next one!
And the awesome Prussia for the win! You are awesome for including him!America Of The Axis! [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-07 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)“Let’s make pasta, you must be hungry by now, ve~?”
Germany didn’t complain; he just kept staring at the map, so Italy took that to mean, “Yes, you can make pasta, just don’t bother me right now!”
Italy put on an apron and started searching the kitchen for an adequate pasta pot. In the cabinet under the sink, he found a medium-sized pot that looked just about right. He filled it with water, and set it to boil.
Italy said, in his eternally cheerful and happy tone, “So, my boss and my brother, Romano, they want to stay out of the war right now. Signore Carlo told Il Duce that we won’t be prepared for a war for at least another two years. But I can still visit my good friend Germany!”
That got Germany to look up briefly from his maps, and slowly nod. It was the most response Italy had gotten out of him all day. “So Italy is officially going to stay neutral?”
Italy turned away from his pasta-making, and asked quietly, “Are you mad at me?”
Germany turned to face him, looking dead tired. He shook his head, then returned his attention to the maps on the table.
Matthew coughed into his sleeve, feeling a little bit woozy. He’d woken up again-this time, he checked in with his boss. After finding out he was mistaken about the time, Canada got very irritated-why did his boss let him sleep in the middle of the afternoon? His boss replied that he’d looked a bit unwell.
It was true he felt mildly drowsy, but Canada didn’t admit that to his boss. Instead, he called Alfred-no answer, and he was apparently out to Europe at the moment. He called England-there was no answer from the older country, either.
Pacing around his room in frustration, he worked up the courage to brave verbal molestation by France. He called Francis, asking if anything interested had happened over there, and if he’d heard from England yet.
In a hushed, low tone, the nation said, “I haven’t been able to contact notre cher ami, Angleterre, at all. The past three days, he has completely ignored me. Not that I am not used to that, but you would think he would be willing to speak to me given the circumstances, non?” A pause. “And you say that Amerique is unavailable as well?” There was another, longer pause. “Either those two have finally resolved the, ah, sexual tension between them-” Matthew winced, trying to banish the thought from his head. ”-or Germany is up to something rotten, I think…”
Italy was happily chatting at Germany. The nation did not respond positively or negatively to it, so Italy assumed Germany didn’t have a problem with it. He was pouring the noodles in the pot and wishing that his boss had chosen less depressing black uniforms for the army, when Italy noticed something strange outside the window. It was a blond-haired child, sitting in Germany’s super-neat and obsessively well-trimmed garden. A nation, Italy sensed.
“Germany, look! There’s someone outside, and he’s a nation, but I don’t recognize him, ve~!”
Notes: Italy remained neutral for a while, despite being an Axis Power. Il Duce refers to Mussolini, and Signore Carlo is Mr. Carlo Favagrossa, the italian Under-Secretary for War Production during WWII.
Sorry, it's a bit short. But hey, it's an update! Alfred will meet Germany next chapter.
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-08 12:48 am (UTC)(link)Short but nice! I liked the Germany and Italy interaction in the beginning. And then Italy sensing/finding America.
Eagerly awaiting more.