this is the anon that promised something in the discussion post. i'm hoping to do another fill for this request--so many plot bunnies, so little time. anyways, this was based off risorgimento.
Prussia bounces him a little on his hip, a motherly action that is so weirdly out of place on such a warlike nation. A faint smile is on his lips. “What do you think?” He asks guardedly. Prussia is cautious; he has every right to be.
For in Prussia’s arms is the nation that Italy once thought he knew, the nation that Italy loved and will love for years to come. His blue eyes, blond hair, and chubby cheeks are all there—all that’s missing is that ridiculously oversized hat and that billowy navy cloak.
“Holy Roman Empire.” Italy whispers, clutching the leather strap that holds a rifle across his back.
Prussia stiffens. “No,” he corrects sharply, “The German Confederation.”
Italy shakes his head furiously. “France told me he was dead!” He cries, and reaches out his (weary, weary) arms to touch the boy.
It doesn’t matter that Italy has long grown up and left the children’s world of scribbled bunnies on the edges of canvas and impromptu piano recitals in the drawing room. It doesn’t matter that Italy now has the body of a fifteen-year-old and the boy who isn’t the Holy Roman Empire but still is haven’t met in over six decades. Italy still—still, god, after all this time—still aches with everything he has for this boy.
“Italy!” Prussia reprimands curtly, and Italy snaps his hand back, as if burned.
The boy cocks his head up to give Prussia an inquisitive look. Italy’s breath catches in his throat. “Prussia…” Italy pleads.
Prussia shakes his head. “You need to understand,” Prussia’s voice is harsh, “this isn’t the Holy Roman Empire. This is—“
“—The German Confederation, I know,” Italy finishes for him. “But Prussia—“
“You can’t remind him of his past. What we need—what he needs—is a clean slate. A memory devoid of humiliation.”
Italy almost cries. But, instead: “Give him to me,” Italy insists.
Prussia eyes him suspiciously, but with great reluctance hands over his precious bundle. The boy makes no sound of protest; he merely clings to his new holder’s uniform tighter.
Italy can feel the boy’s small, quiet heartbeat through his warm skin. “You’re really miraculous, you know?” He whispers softly. “All these years…”
The boy gurgles happily and begins to suck on his thumb.
Italy laughs. “It’s okay, though,” he tells the boy, “we’ll have all the time in the world to make up for what we lost. I can tell you stories about Austria and Hungary and big brother France and big brother Spain, and…” Italy trails off, voice gone in favor of giving the boy in his arms an adoring look.
The boy stops lavishing his saliva on his finger and nuzzles against Italy’s chest. “Goo,” he pronounces clearly.
Italy sniffs. “All the time in the world…” Italy buries his head into the boy’s soft swaddling, so as to hide his inevitable tears. “I thought you were gone forever…”
And this time, Prussia doesn’t intervene and just watches the reunion that has been delayed for far, far too long.
“I met you when you were this tall,” and Italy holds his hand about two feet off the ground for effect.
“Mm,” Germany grunts in sleepy recognition. It’s been a long day, and his eyelids are already drooping closed.
“You were really little, so you probably don’t remember,” Italy continues, watching Germany’s eyelashes flutter.
“Mhm.”
“Germany?”
“Yes?” Germany mumbles, the words thick in his mouth.
Italy smiles. It’s clear that whatever he says now won’t register tomorrow morning, or the next when he says it again tomorrow night, or the night after that. Germany is still a few hundred years too young, but that’s alright with Italy. “I’m glad I met you, Germany.”
“Mm,” Germany mutters, and finally gives up and falls asleep.
Italy cuddles closer.
In the morning, Germany will still be there, and that’s all that matters.
omg yayyyyyy! Thank you so much for filling! I love protective!Prussia here and baby!Germany and weary!Italy and sleepy!Germany! I felt for Italy, but it turned out sweet in the end ♥
Italy smiles. It’s clear that whatever he says now won’t register tomorrow morning, or the next when he says it again tomorrow night, or the night after that. Germany is still a few hundred years too young, but that’s alright with Italy. “I’m glad I met you, Germany.” Dawwwww ♥
Due to their histories, there's a lot of potential depth in their relationship that isn't explored much in canon, isn't there? It would be totally awesome if you keep indulging your plot bunnies! Btw, when you say it's based on Risorgimento, do you mean the actual unification, or is that the name of a fic? /derp derp.
OMG THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL <3<3<3 And also really interesting. I wish this concept about the birth/death of nations was explored more usually. I love this and can't wait to read whatever else you come up with this great prompt
Thank you for this sheer brilliance. I love GerIta (ItaGer?), angsty fluffiness and Risorgimento and this fill is simply the best Thanksgiving present I've ever had.
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All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 05:49 am (UTC)(link)Prussia bounces him a little on his hip, a motherly action that is so weirdly out of place on such a warlike nation. A faint smile is on his lips. “What do you think?” He asks guardedly. Prussia is cautious; he has every right to be.
For in Prussia’s arms is the nation that Italy once thought he knew, the nation that Italy loved and will love for years to come. His blue eyes, blond hair, and chubby cheeks are all there—all that’s missing is that ridiculously oversized hat and that billowy navy cloak.
“Holy Roman Empire.” Italy whispers, clutching the leather strap that holds a rifle across his back.
Prussia stiffens. “No,” he corrects sharply, “The German Confederation.”
Italy shakes his head furiously. “France told me he was dead!” He cries, and reaches out his (weary, weary) arms to touch the boy.
It doesn’t matter that Italy has long grown up and left the children’s world of scribbled bunnies on the edges of canvas and impromptu piano recitals in the drawing room. It doesn’t matter that Italy now has the body of a fifteen-year-old and the boy who isn’t the Holy Roman Empire but still is haven’t met in over six decades. Italy still—still, god, after all this time—still aches with everything he has for this boy.
“Italy!” Prussia reprimands curtly, and Italy snaps his hand back, as if burned.
The boy cocks his head up to give Prussia an inquisitive look. Italy’s breath catches in his throat. “Prussia…” Italy pleads.
Prussia shakes his head. “You need to understand,” Prussia’s voice is harsh, “this isn’t the Holy Roman Empire. This is—“
“—The German Confederation, I know,” Italy finishes for him. “But Prussia—“
“You can’t remind him of his past. What we need—what he needs—is a clean slate. A memory devoid of humiliation.”
Italy almost cries. But, instead: “Give him to me,” Italy insists.
Prussia eyes him suspiciously, but with great reluctance hands over his precious bundle. The boy makes no sound of protest; he merely clings to his new holder’s uniform tighter.
Italy can feel the boy’s small, quiet heartbeat through his warm skin. “You’re really miraculous, you know?” He whispers softly. “All these years…”
The boy gurgles happily and begins to suck on his thumb.
Italy laughs. “It’s okay, though,” he tells the boy, “we’ll have all the time in the world to make up for what we lost. I can tell you stories about Austria and Hungary and big brother France and big brother Spain, and…” Italy trails off, voice gone in favor of giving the boy in his arms an adoring look.
The boy stops lavishing his saliva on his finger and nuzzles against Italy’s chest. “Goo,” he pronounces clearly.
Italy sniffs. “All the time in the world…” Italy buries his head into the boy’s soft swaddling, so as to hide his inevitable tears. “I thought you were gone forever…”
And this time, Prussia doesn’t intervene and just watches the reunion that has been delayed for far, far too long.
“I met you when you were this tall,” and Italy holds his hand about two feet off the ground for effect.
“Mm,” Germany grunts in sleepy recognition. It’s been a long day, and his eyelids are already drooping closed.
“You were really little, so you probably don’t remember,” Italy continues, watching Germany’s eyelashes flutter.
“Mhm.”
“Germany?”
“Yes?” Germany mumbles, the words thick in his mouth.
Italy smiles. It’s clear that whatever he says now won’t register tomorrow morning, or the next when he says it again tomorrow night, or the night after that. Germany is still a few hundred years too young, but that’s alright with Italy. “I’m glad I met you, Germany.”
“Mm,” Germany mutters, and finally gives up and falls asleep.
Italy cuddles closer.
In the morning, Germany will still be there, and that’s all that matters.
Re: All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 06:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 08:13 am (UTC)(link)Re: All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 08:32 am (UTC)(link)Re: All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 09:55 am (UTC)(link)This was too sweet, anon <3
OP
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 01:26 pm (UTC)(link)Italy smiles. It’s clear that whatever he says now won’t register tomorrow morning, or the next when he says it again tomorrow night, or the night after that. Germany is still a few hundred years too young, but that’s alright with Italy. “I’m glad I met you, Germany.”
Dawwwww ♥
Due to their histories, there's a lot of potential depth in their relationship that isn't explored much in canon, isn't there? It would be totally awesome if you keep indulging your plot bunnies! Btw, when you say it's based on Risorgimento, do you mean the actual unification, or is that the name of a fic? /derp derp.
Different!Anon
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 03:58 pm (UTC)(link)author!anon
(Anonymous) 2010-09-22 03:46 am (UTC)(link)Re: All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-09-21 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)And also really interesting. I wish this concept about the birth/death of nations was explored more usually. I love this and can't wait to read whatever else you come up with this great prompt
Re: All These Years [1/1]
(Anonymous) 2010-10-10 06:31 am (UTC)(link)So much love! Thanks again!