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Abridged Excerpt from The Chibi Prussia Diaries

Year ?? B.A. (Before Awesome-and the "Before" is important!)

Entry title: Keep Him

Please read the description for more information. You might not fully understand this, otherwise.

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"Does this belong to you?"

Germania turned to face the familiar voice, annoyed—but also a little curious.  He wasn't sure what the Roman Empire could have that belonged to him.  Germania froze when he saw what it was.  The strong blonde, who prided himself on his ability to keep his true thoughts and emotions hidden from his enemies, paled visibly at the sight before him (and he wasn't sure if it was from shock, anger, frustration, embarrassment, or a strange mix of all four).  For there stood Rome, looking very angry and irritated as he held the "item" out to his European neighbor.  The tanned Empire's brow was furrowed under his messy hair.  His face was red.  His teeth were clenched.

Dangling from his strong fist, was a child.

Germania felt like slamming his head into a wall as he stared blankly at the white-headed culprit.  His grandson kept his head hung low with a scowl on his own face.  Germania thought that he could hear the boy grumbling to himself.

Clutched in the lad's pale little hands, was a crop.

It didn't take a genius to guess what had happened.

Germania finally closed his eyes in defeat and sighed; wishing he had never allowed his grandson to keep that stupid thing.  The boy had not looked ashamed or sorry in the least bit for what he had done.  Rather, he had only looked put out at the fact that he had gotten caught.  The little trouble-maker.  He just had to go and get on the great Roman Empire's bad side, didn't he?  Well, Germania had had enough of his little wild child's antics.  He wanted no part of this.  Regaining his stone-faced composure, Germania calmly gave his answer to Rome's query without missing another beat.

"I've never seen him before in my life."

At that, the child in question raised his head to reveal a now mortified face.  "Vati!  It's me!" he declared; not fathoming in his little mind how his own father figure could not recognize him.

Rome was even less amused with the answer.  His face went dark with further irritation at the Germanic nation.  "Don't play dumb with me, Germania," he said.

Germania would have winced at the anger in the Mediterranean ruler's voice if he had not been on guard this time.  The blonde was used to dealing with a Rome who was surprisingly giddy and care-free for a mighty conqueror that he really was.  But now, his competitor (and occasional companion) was all business.  The child must have seriously ticked him off.

"I know this freak's yours," Rome continued.

"FREAK?!" a small voice squealed.

Back in the Roman's grasp, the puny albino had exploded; quickly trading his shock with rage.  The man's comment had struck a chord in the child.  People made fun of him all the time for his strange appearance.  They always regretted it afterwards.  The boy liked his white hair and red eyes!  No one else had them.  They made him different.  They made him special.  They made him AWESOME!  He knew that his ridiculers were just jealous because they were normal—and normal was boring!  The boy never took insults on his awesome good looks from others, and he certainly was not going to take them from his hated captor.

"Let me go, you ugly, overgrown, Roman dog!" the boy began to struggle, but the man kept a tight hold on the back of his tunic.  "You're going to pay for that!  Nobody insults the awesomeness that is me!  Vati!  Make him put me down!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Germania looked away; ignoring the irate child completely and denying the Roman's accusations.

"I've seen you both together enough to know that he's one of your territories," Rome persisted, as he thrust the squirming boy closer to his guardian.  "One that has just organized and attack on me, for your information!"

It was just a little swat with a crop.

Said territory grumbled in his head.  That Roman jerk was totally overreacting!  Yes, to the battle-zealous boy it was an all-out attack (and a very successful one, if he didn't count the part where he got captured by the enemy), but it didn't do much damage…except maybe to the cocky Empire's pride.

"What do you have to say for your son?" Rome asked Germania pointedly.

At last, Germania glanced at the child.  Still fighting against Rome's hold, the boy was too distracted to notice the furious flaming daggers that his grandfather was beginning to glare at him.  Then, suddenly, the old Germanic region's face relaxed back to his normal frown.  He looked at his Roman adversary as if he had just made some sort of decision.  He spoke out in a neutral, yet firm, voice.

"Keep him."

The child stopped all movement.  He turned his attention to Germania with a shocked expression, as if he had not heard right.  The powerful brunet's reaction to those two words was almost identical.  All anger left his features to be replaced with one of his goofy, puzzled looks.  He had not been expecting an answer like that.  Germania's appearance remained as calm and serious as ever.

"H-Huh?" Rome was finally able to stammer.

"I said keep him," Germania repeated himself, sounding almost bored.  "You were right.  He is my grandson, and you can have him."

"VATI!" the child screamed at his parent with resentment (but the absolute horror was very noticeable in his voice, as well).

Germania appeared unfazed by his grandson's distress.  "He causes nothing but trouble for me," the stern-looking man explained.  He spoke as if the kid wasn't even there.  "Life would be less stressful without him around."  And then, as if the region made the decision for the group that the conversation was done, Germania turned and began to walk off.  "Have fun," he called as he went on his way.

"V-Vati, NIEN!" the little territory protested to his 'father' in disbelief.  This had to be a trick or something!  "That's not funny!  You can't leave me with him!"

"W-Wait!" Rome, himself, appeared to have come out of another stupor.  He followed closely after Germania and called to him, sounding almost as desperate as the boy in his grasp.  "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," the slowly retreating land answered indifferently.

"Vati!" the boy tried calling to his guardian again.  He still received no response.

Rome stopped in his tracks.  "Ha…ha,ha,ha,ha!" he began to laugh.  "This is a joke, right?  You're joking!"

"I don't joke," was the only answer he received from Germania.

"Vati!" the boy was panicking now.  How could his Vati do this to him?!

"But…" Rome was once again at a loss for words.  "But what would I want with this weak brat?"

The "weak brat" would have forgotten his panic and given the Roman a piece of his mind if he had not noticed his grandfather halt and turn around.  For a moment, the boy felt hopeful that Germania was going to return for him.  But instead, the tall blonde stayed in his place and spoke directly to Rome.

"You have the world's most successful slave trade, don't you?"

The boy's eyes went wide with pure horror.  "VATI!"

"I wouldn't advise keeping him as a personal slave," Germania carried on as if he hadn't heard the boy.  "He would be more than useless, but it might be possible to get a few coins for him from an unsuspecting buyer."

The boy couldn't believe this was happening!  His grandfather was really talking about selling him as a slave—and acting like it was a casual conversation!  The kid tried screaming louder; kicking the air and demanding that his elder pay attention to him.

"Or you might sentence him to your gallys."

The little one clammed up when he heard Germania speak again.  The conversation was getting worse, now.  The idea of being chained up below a ship and forced to row until he collapsed (like the rumors always warned) made him become rigid.  The boy was still furious about what was going on, but his fear was beginning to win against his anger.  He now grew quiet for fear that he might break into sobs instead of speak.  And it wasn't like his tantrum had been working, anyway.

"Perhaps he will build muscle on that scrawny body after being made to do some real work for once."

The man speaking still didn't give so much as a glance in his grandson's direction, but the boy could somehow tell that the last comment had been meant for him to hear and reflect upon.  He hung his head out of habit.  He was always getting in trouble for shirking his chores at home in favor of more "awesome" endeavors.

"Then again, you could always feed him to your precious pet lions."

The little one gulped at the last suggestion.

"Although…they would probably spit him out," Germania said after he had seemed to have thought the choice over more carefully.

The boy couldn't get over his granddad's attitude!  He was suggesting severe punishments and tortures for him with the same tone that one might use for suggesting options for their next meal!  And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he would go on to discuss the pros and cons of each suggestion!  The boy didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"It might be best to use him in your gladiator fights," Germania decided.

"You're telling me I should sick my gladiators on him?!" the Roman Empire asked in alarm.  He was having a hard time believing what he was hearing, as well.  He always knew Germania was gruff and a real stick-in-the-mud, but he never thought that the region was this cruel!

For the first time in a good while, Germania actually looked at his small (and now slightly trembling) territory.  The boy looked back with pleading eyes.  Germania only gave a small smirk after studying him and returned his attention to Rome.

"He might be small, but he's a fighter.  Trust me.  I guarantee he will give your people an entertaining show before your warriors cut him down."

The boy could only gape in terror at the cold words.  But his grandfather wasn't quite done.

"Or just have him whipped and crucified," he finished with a shrug.  "I really don't care," he added as he turned his back to the duo once more and began to return to his own home.

If it was possible, the boy turned whiter than he was before.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  Lions?  Gladiators?  Crucifixion?!  His childish mind was being abused with all of the nightmare-ish proposals that his own grandfather had suggested for his fate.  Without warning, more bad things began to fill his little head.  He could remember all of the other horrible tortures and punishments that the Romans were famous for using on condemned prisoners, like himself.  He began to regret ever going after Rome with his crop in the first place.  What had he been thinking?  Sure, the empire was more than worthy prey for his little implement, but the boy should have known that he wouldn't have been able to make an easy escape after doing the deed.  Now, it was too late.

"You're seriously just going to give him to me?" Rome double-checked while Germania was still within earshot.  "Just like that?  You're not even going to fight me for him or anything?" the empire sounded almost disappointed that there wasn't going to be an epic battle over the child.  He was always up for a good fight, and Germania was one of the few who could give him a real challenge.

"That thorn in my side isn't worth fighting for," Germania assured.  "He's your problem now."

That's when the child realized that this was it.  This was all really happening.  His guardian was strolling away and leaving him in the hands of an evil Roman.

"Vati!  Wait!" the boy no longer cared that his voice made him sound like he was on the verge of tears.  He wanted his grandfather!  "Don't leave me!  Vati!  Come back!"

Germania walked on.

The young albino could feel himself panicking again.  Nothing could describe the feeling of being deserted by one's own guardian.  He had to get his Vati to change his mind!

"I-I'm sorry, Vati!  I'm sorry!" the boy swallowed his pride (which was very difficult for him, because this particular minor's pride was so LARGE, that it almost made him literaly choke) in order to apologize for all the trouble he caused.  "I'll be good from now on!  Vati!"

Nothing he said worked.  Germania was getting further and further away.  He wasn't even faltering at the child's desperate pleas.

Tears that had been dangling dangerously at the edge of the boy's eyes for a long time now, began to tumble out at last.  The boy tried to wipe them away before Rome saw them.  He became angry at himself for showing weakness and even angrier at his father figure for abandoning him like this.  More tears than he would be able to stop, spilled out of him.  This was the furthest thing from awesome he had ever experienced in his short lifetime!

"V-Vati!" he screeched in anger as Germania disappeared behind a hill.  "You're…y-you're mean, Vati!  I hate you!  I hate you!"
The boy continued to shout and tell his (apparently now X) guardian off until he ran out of energy.  When he was finished, he hung panting and sniffling in the air.  He looked and felt absolutely pathetic.

"You're papa isn't a very devoted parent, is he?" the boy heard Rome speak up as last.

"Sh-Shut up!" the boy ordered as he rubbed the dripping snot from his nose.  "Vati will come back for me, and then you'll be sorry!"

"I don't think so, my little warrior," Rome said as-a-matter-of-factly.  "Looks like you're with me from now on."

Suddenly, child felt his stomach drop as the empire lifted him up higher to get a better look at him.  The pale youngster scowled back at the man examining him.  He was getting tired of being held off the ground by his tunic.  Rome didn't seem to notice the death-glare from his new land.  He rubbed his chin in thought.

The boy was still secretly scared out of his wits, but he wanted to appear unafraid of the muscular man that held him.  "What are you looking at?!" he demanded with all the courage he could muster up.

Rome overlooked the question, and instead, smiled cheerfully at the angry albino in front of him.  "And I think I know just what to do with you."

The child clenched his teeth as if he was baring fangs at the other.  That giddy voice and comical accent was starting to get on his nerves.

"You would make a perfect servant to my own grandsons!" Rome announced.

W…what the…?

"Wouldn't that be fitting?" the excited man spoke more to himself, than to the boy.  He seemed very happy and quite proud of himself for his brilliant judgment.  "The offspring of the great Germania, waiting hand and foot on the sons of the Roman Empire!" he mused to himself with a ridiculously wide grin on his face.

Now the boy understood why his grandfather preferred not to associate with the Roman Empire.  Everything his guardian had told him about Rome had been true.  The guy really did act like a cocky, blubbering idiot!

"Ah, it's so appropriate, don't you think?"

…No.  Way.  The boy was not going to stand for this!  Abandoned by his Vati, or not, he was still a proud Germanic tribe and he was not going to take orders from the enemy of his people!  He was too awesome to bow down to anyone, even to the nation who was practically the ruler of the whole world!

"And it won't be long before your 'Vati' is doing the same for me, my little—"

"Like Hölle will I ever cater to one of your un-awesome decedents!" the boy's shrill voice interrupted.

Rome looked caught off guard by the boy's outburst.

"Foolish barbarian!" the proud pipsqueak pointed his crop right at the Roman for emphasis as he continued to shout.  He felt strangely empowered as he did this.  He was sure that not many people had ever snubbed the Roman Empire to his face before!  This was kind of awesome.  "I will never stoop as low as to play the servant to a filthy Roman!"

From that point on, the little rebel began to swing his crop furiously at his foe; cursing everything Roman, all the while.  Rome simply held the boy further away from him.  The crop swished through the open air with a vengeance, but it never made contact with its prey this time.  The boy was being held a safe distance from his weapon's target.

Rome seemed to find this all very amusing.  "Ha, ha!  Germania wasn't lying!  You are a fighter!" he complemented as he tried to seize the crop with his free hand.

But the boy didn't give up.  The laughter only made him swing harder, as Rome fumbled, trying to catch the striking implement.  This didn't continue for long, however.

Rome seemed to grow tired of the struggle.  He stopped laughing, unexpectedly.  His cheerful expression disappeared.  His face formed a new, focused expression that seemed to say, "Enough fooling around, here."  Before the boy knew what happened, Rome had snatched his wrist.  The Roman's reflexes had been so precise, that he had caught the boy's arm in mid swing.

The sudden immobilization of his arm caught the boy by surprise.  He looked at his hand, and then looked at the nation that was gripping it.  What had happened to the giggling idiot?  Now, Rome was actually looking more like a serious warrior.  The boy had a bad feeling about this.

"I'm impressed with your spirit," Rome seemed to be genuinely complementing the boy, before continuing on with a dark tone: "But you should know that the Roman Empire doesn't turn a blind eye to rebellion."

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt his arm twisted.  The pain forced his fist to open.  His faithful crop dropped to the ground.

Rome let the boy's arm go when the crop fell.  The boy took the chance to cradle his twisted his arm.  He whined as he rubbed his wrist in an attempt to nurse his wounds.  (In reality, Rome hadn't twisted the little arm very hard, at all.  The boy was a bit of an over-dramatic, himself)

Picking up the discarded crop and examining it; Rome had only one thing to say:

"Cute."

All whining ceased and a moment of silence followed.

Cute?  CUTE?!  The boy felt rage consuming him!  His crop was not "cute!"  It was AWESOME!  It was the most awesome-est thing ever crafted, and it was to be feared, not mocked!

"Give that back, schwein!" the enraged boy demanded.  The Roman Empire was not fit to touch his most awesome crop!

"Hm?  Still trying to fight me?" Rome asked inattentively.  He was devoting his attentions to experimenting with swishing the crop through the air.  The boy couldn't tell if the empire was trying to understand the appeal of the instrument, or if he was really just playing with the crop for his own childish amusement.

"And I haven't even done anything to you."

The kid responded by calling his captor the worst profane name he could think of.

Rome turned to the runt and raised an eyebrow.  "At least I'm not the one who gave you away for nothing."

…The boy felt like he had been jabbed in a sore spot…that prompt had stung…worse than the boy's abused wrist.  The boy didn't know how to answer it.  He felt hurt thinking again about how his Vati had given him up without even a second thought.  He clenched his fists at his side and hung his head.  Almost as soon as he had he bowed his head, the child felt a familiar texture under his chin, nudging him to look up.  When he opened his eyes, he saw that Rome had used the crop to raise his head.  The empire's expression had now switched to one of slight pity.

"Don't be upset," he encouraged.  "Being my territory won't be so bad.  I'll treat you better than Germania."  Here, the Roman smiled and moved the crop back and forth through the air.  He almost looked like he was using the long crop to tap an invisible banner displaying all the benefits of being a Roman citizen.  "You'll get to live in my nice house, and eat my delicious food, and wear my fashionable clothes—"

"Who's upset?!" the boy cut in.  "I don't need any of your un-awesome things!"

Rome's smile vanished again.  "You're behaving very rudely to your benevolent empire, you know."

"Get used to it!" the boy's pale face had gone almost completely red by now.  "I'm not your territory, and you're no empire of mine!  The awesome me doesn't answer to anyone!"

Rome frowned.  "So stubborn," he commented with a sigh.  "I think I should give you a tiny sample of what happens to those who resist me."

Before the child could register the words, he suddenly felt the world spin around him.  Rome had flung him up in the air.  The boy let out a squeak of surprise as he flew upwards.  When he came down, Rome caught him with ease.  The empire then carried the little territory under his arm like a sack.

The boy's bad feeling returned when his head stopped spinning.  He realized that Rome was no longer going to go easy on him.  He now remembered his grandfather telling him once that Rome should not be underestimated.  At first contact, Rome seemed like a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but he could be ruthless when necessary.  The man had built himself the most powerful empire in the world, after all.  One doesn't create something like that and keep it running smoothly by being soft.  Those under Rome's thumb had to be careful.  As long as they paid tribute to the empire and didn't stir up trouble, everything was good.  But go against Rome in any way, and the foolish ones would be crushed.

As he was being carried off, the boy became very afraid of whatever the man holding him was about to do.  Whatever it was, he knew it wasn't going to be good.  The boy started the struggle against Rome like he had never struggled before.  He kicked his legs and banged his fists on the Roman's stomach.  Unfortunately, his blows were easily deflected by Rome's golden armor.  But the boy refused to give up.  He fought hard.  He began to curse the Roman out once again.

Rome just calmly walked over to a conveniently placed boulder.  He sat down and deposited the thrashing child easily on his lap.  The boy tried to escape but Rome put a large hand on his back to hold him down.  Then, the child felt his tunic being pulled back.  That's when the horrible realization of what Rome was planning to do hit him.

Everything in the boy screamed that he couldn't let this happen!  "LET ME GO!" he loudly commanded through gritted teeth.  His awesome pride felt wounded with his body just being in that embarrassing position.  If he let this continue, it would be remembered as his worst defeat.  He went back to kicking furiously.  He put both hands on the lap and grunted as he tried to push himself up.

THWACK!

The boy stopped kicking and cringed when he felt a stinging pain on his calf.  Whimpering, he used his other leg to rub the injured one.  That.  Had.  HURT!  He could swear that he could already feel the welt forming!

"That was a warning. Now stay still, before I hit something more vital," Rome's strong voice ordered.

The boy shuddered at the words.  Clearly, the smack had been a warning for him to keep his legs still.  He was so ashamed that it was actually working.  Inside, he wanted to keep fighting this, but now he was too scared to try.  Curse his un-awesome childish survival instincts!  The poor boy didn't think that things could get any worse than this.  He was over the lap of his grandfather's worst rival, about to be taken down by his own awesome crop.  Oh, the shame!

"By the way," he heard the voice above him add, "this is also for your impudent little surprise attack, earlier."

The young one could feel himself getting sick again.  Rome's hold on him was rough, despite the fact that he was no longer struggling.  The boy knew that Rome was going to go much tougher on him than Germania.

He closed his eyes and tried to remain defiant.  He would not show his weakness again!  He was awesome, after all!  And awesome people don't cower!  Awesome people don't beg for mercy!  Awesome people don't cry!  Awesome people never call for help!

Then he felt Rome shift as the man raised the crop up for the first strike.

"VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
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No.  He was not awesome.  At least he was not as awesome as he thought he was.  He realized it at that moment.  Who was he trying to fool?  He couldn't stand up to The Great Roman Empire!  He was just a puny kid—a puny little kid who could not even stop himself from calling out for help when he was in trouble, just like a baby crying for its mommy.  He knew deep down that calling for his Vati would be useless, but he couldn't help himself.  He just wanted to go home!  If only Germania would come back and reclaim him!  He would never slack off on his chores again!  He would never talk back to his guardian.  He would never pick on his little bruder.  He would never be late for anything, and he would never play with dangerous weapons in the house ever, ever, ever again!  But he knew that his father figure wasn't coming back.  The boy had driven his elder away.  Now, thanks to all of his stupid antics, he was about to get the beating of his life with no one around to save him.

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The boy heard the sound of his crop swish as it came down.  He expected to hear the SMACK come next, but instead, he heard a clapping sound.  He flinched.  It took a moment for the boy to realize it, but nothing had made contact with his rear.  Everything was quiet.  The boy waited.  Nothing happened. There was no noise and no pain.

"On second thought…"

The boy hardly dared to open his eyes at the sound of that voice.

"If I disown him now, I would be getting rid the only baby-sitter I have for my younger grandson."

The boy's head shot up.  He strained his neck and turned his head around as far as he could manage.  He couldn't believe it.  Looking over his shoulder, the teary-eyed boy saw a familiar blonde elder, standing next to Rome.  The man had Rome's punishing arm firmly grasped in his own large hand.  It looked like he had caught the arm just as Rome was starting to swing.

"V-V-Vati?"

Germania moved his gaze from the stunned Roman to his grandson.  A corner of the tribesman's mouth turned up as he simply shook his head at the child in Rome's lap.  The boy noticed the hidden smile.  Could it be?

"Give the boy to me, Rome," Germania said with a sigh.  "I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again."

The boy felt like leaping for joy!  His grandfather had come back!  He was going to be saved!  Germania was now reaching down to take him.  The boy made a move to get up and jump into his Vati's awaiting arms.

"Now hold on!" Rome put a hand on the boy's white head and pushed him back down unto his lap.  "You said I could have him!  You can't go back on that now!" As he spoke, the Roman sounded more like a whining child than a powerful empire.  "I've already started to get attached to him.  He reminds me of my oldest," the empire laughed his own observation.  Then, he perked up as if he had gotten a new idea.  "They would probably make good playmates!  That would be just wonderful!  Then I could spend even more time with my little Italy pumkin!"

From his uncomfortable position, the boy gave a huff.  Now who was being the bad parent?  The child felt disgusted at the empire's obvious favoritism.  Granted, sometimes the boy thought that Germania secretly favored his little bruder more than him (not that he cared.  He was too awesome to be affected by things like that), but Rome had been insulting his grandfather's parenting skills when he, himself, wasn't all that great.  The boy hated hypocrites.

Suddenly, the boy heard the sound of metal un-sheathing, and he immediately felt the pressure on his head decrease.  Now that he was able to raise his head again, he looked up to see what had happened.  Germania had drawn his sword and was holding the pointed end to the Roman Empire's throat.

"I said: Give.  Him.  To me," Germania spoke softly, but his words dripped thick with unspoken threats.  His features were dark and deadly serious.  It was made clear to Rome that Germania was not in the mood for any of the empire's nonsense today.  "Perhaps I will relinquish control over him one of these days, but it will never be to the likes of you."

There was a standstill between the two nations.  The boy waited with anticipation to see what would happen.  He stood in awe of his grandfather as the seconds ticked by.  He hardly ever got to see the fierce region in action.  Germania was truly awesome.  The boy was proud to call such a warrior his Vati!

Above the boy, Rome was trying to decide what to do.  Part of him wanted to fight (part of him always wanted to fight), but something about Germania seemed especially scary right now.  Did Rome really want to get into a tussle with the great Germanic nation when he was in such a bad mood?  Was the scruffy kid in his lap really worth it?  And all that aside, it was getting to be dinner time.  Rome was hungry.  And he knew for a fact that there were some beautiful ladies at his place that had been awaiting his return from the battlefield….

After what seemed like forever, Rome made his decision.

"Fine," Rome dropped the boy on the ground as he relented.  "Take him."

"VATI!" the boy cried.  He wasted no time in running and leaping into his grandfather's embrace.

Germania almost toppled over at the force of his grandson colliding with him.  He had not been prepared for the small child to make such a great, seemingly impossible, leap right into his chest.  He had to put some extra effort into steadying himself and keeping his sword upright, while the boy wrapped his arms and legs around him.

"It was just a thought," Rome sighed and tossed the crop in the Germans direction, as well.  "But the next time I catch him on Roman soil," the empire warned before taking his leave, "he's as good as conquered."

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"Vati!  Vati!  Vati!" the boy cried into his grandfather's neck.  They were walking home, now.  The boy made no effort to stop his stressful tears now that he was with his trusted Vati and far away from the enemy.

Germania walked on and allowed his child to cry into him.  The region said nothing, remaining as stoic as he usually was, but every now and then he would pat the boy's back with a strong hand.  It wasn't much, but the boy understood that it was his grandfather's way of giving comfort.  It was ok.  He prefered it to anything else.  He didn't want to be cuddled and shushed like a baby (in the same way Rome probably did to his spoiled grandsons).

"Y-You…" the boy spoke up when he was able.  "You weren't really going to give me away, were you?"

Germania grunted.  The boy waited nervously.  He didn't know it, but his grandfather was wondering if he should give away the fact that it had all been an act.  He had wanted to teach his grandson a lesson.  If the threat of disowning was kept alive, maybe the boy would be better behaved.

"Nein," Germania admitted.  In the end, he didn't want to crush the boy's spirit.  "But that does not mean that you should keep giving me reasons to abandon you."  (Still, the tribesman had to appear tough)  "Keep it up, and you just might wear me down one of these days."

"I-I'm sorry, Vati!" the boy quickly piped up.  "I'll try to be good!"

"And don't forget what that Roman idiot said," Germania reminded.  "If you ever try a stupid thing like that again, he won't hesitate to claim you for his empire, and I might just let him the next time."

"I won't, Vati!" the child proclaimed.  "I promise I won't attack Rome again!  I'm gonna wait until I'm much, much stronger!"

Germania rolled his eyes.

"Then I'll really let that jerk have it!" the boy thrust a fist in the air to make his point!  The Roman Empire would pay for the indignity he had suffered today! Until then, he would just have to practice his battle skills on weaker targets.  An evil grin spread on the boy's face as he thought about all the possible victims.  Some particularly special ones came to mind.  Ha, maybe he wouldn't be attacking Rome anytime soon, but that didn't mean his wimpy kids weren't fair game!

"You should let this be a lesson to you, my son," Germania's voice cut in on the boy's planning.  "From now on, choose your battles more wisely, and don't be so reckless.  I won't always be here to protect you."

"Why?" the boy asked innocently.  "Are you going on a journey, or something?"

Germania grew quiet.  He seemed to be thinking.

"Ja," he answered softly.  "One day, I'm afraid I will have to leave on a very long journey.  You need to be able to take care of yourself and your bruder when I'm gone."

The boy puffed up with pride.  "Don't worry, Vati!  By then, I'm going to be so awesome, that I won't ever need anyone to protect me!  I'll take care of West and teach him how to be a good fighter, too!  You wait and see!  One day, we'll be even stronger than that Rome guy!"

Germania smiled, despite himself.  At least his grandson was ambitious.

Description
Abridged Excerpt from The Chibi Prussia Diaries

Year ?? B.A. (Before Awesome-and the "Before" is important!)

Entry title: Keep Him

Please read the description for more information. You might not fully understand this, otherwise.

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"Does this belong to you?"

Germania turned to face the familiar voice, annoyed—but also a little curious.  He wasn't sure what the Roman Empire could have that belonged to him.  Germania froze when he saw what it was.  The strong blonde, who prided himself on his ability to keep his true thoughts and emotions hidden from his enemies, paled visibly at the sight before him (and he wasn't sure if it was from shock, anger, frustration, embarrassment, or a strange mix of all four).  For there stood Rome, looking very angry and irritated as he held the "item" out to his European neighbor.  The tanned Empire's brow was furrowed under his messy hair.  His face was red.  His teeth were clenched.

Dangling from his strong fist, was a child.

Germania felt like slamming his head into a wall as he stared blankly at the white-headed culprit.  His grandson kept his head hung low with a scowl on his own face.  Germania thought that he could hear the boy grumbling to himself.

Clutched in the lad's pale little hands, was a crop.

It didn't take a genius to guess what had happened.

Germania finally closed his eyes in defeat and sighed; wishing he had never allowed his grandson to keep that stupid thing.  The boy had not looked ashamed or sorry in the least bit for what he had done.  Rather, he had only looked put out at the fact that he had gotten caught.  The little trouble-maker.  He just had to go and get on the great Roman Empire's bad side, didn't he?  Well, Germania had had enough of his little wild child's antics.  He wanted no part of this.  Regaining his stone-faced composure, Germania calmly gave his answer to Rome's query without missing another beat.

"I've never seen him before in my life."

At that, the child in question raised his head to reveal a now mortified face.  "Vati!  It's me!" he declared; not fathoming in his little mind how his own father figure could not recognize him.

Rome was even less amused with the answer.  His face went dark with further irritation at the Germanic nation.  "Don't play dumb with me, Germania," he said.

Germania would have winced at the anger in the Mediterranean ruler's voice if he had not been on guard this time.  The blonde was used to dealing with a Rome who was surprisingly giddy and care-free for a mighty conqueror that he really was.  But now, his competitor (and occasional companion) was all business.  The child must have seriously ticked him off.

"I know this freak's yours," Rome continued.

"FREAK?!" a small voice squealed.

Back in the Roman's grasp, the puny albino had exploded; quickly trading his shock with rage.  The man's comment had struck a chord in the child.  People made fun of him all the time for his strange appearance.  They always regretted it afterwards.  The boy liked his white hair and red eyes!  No one else had them.  They made him different.  They made him special.  They made him AWESOME!  He knew that his ridiculers were just jealous because they were normal—and normal was boring!  The boy never took insults on his awesome good looks from others, and he certainly was not going to take them from his hated captor.

"Let me go, you ugly, overgrown, Roman dog!" the boy began to struggle, but the man kept a tight hold on the back of his tunic.  "You're going to pay for that!  Nobody insults the awesomeness that is me!  Vati!  Make him put me down!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Germania looked away; ignoring the irate child completely and denying the Roman's accusations.

"I've seen you both together enough to know that he's one of your territories," Rome persisted, as he thrust the squirming boy closer to his guardian.  "One that has just organized and attack on me, for your information!"

It was just a little swat with a crop.

Said territory grumbled in his head.  That Roman jerk was totally overreacting!  Yes, to the battle-zealous boy it was an all-out attack (and a very successful one, if he didn't count the part where he got captured by the enemy), but it didn't do much damage…except maybe to the cocky Empire's pride.

"What do you have to say for your son?" Rome asked Germania pointedly.

At last, Germania glanced at the child.  Still fighting against Rome's hold, the boy was too distracted to notice the furious flaming daggers that his grandfather was beginning to glare at him.  Then, suddenly, the old Germanic region's face relaxed back to his normal frown.  He looked at his Roman adversary as if he had just made some sort of decision.  He spoke out in a neutral, yet firm, voice.

"Keep him."

The child stopped all movement.  He turned his attention to Germania with a shocked expression, as if he had not heard right.  The powerful brunet's reaction to those two words was almost identical.  All anger left his features to be replaced with one of his goofy, puzzled looks.  He had not been expecting an answer like that.  Germania's appearance remained as calm and serious as ever.

"H-Huh?" Rome was finally able to stammer.

"I said keep him," Germania repeated himself, sounding almost bored.  "You were right.  He is my grandson, and you can have him."

"VATI!" the child screamed at his parent with resentment (but the absolute horror was very noticeable in his voice, as well).

Germania appeared unfazed by his grandson's distress.  "He causes nothing but trouble for me," the stern-looking man explained.  He spoke as if the kid wasn't even there.  "Life would be less stressful without him around."  And then, as if the region made the decision for the group that the conversation was done, Germania turned and began to walk off.  "Have fun," he called as he went on his way.

"V-Vati, NIEN!" the little territory protested to his 'father' in disbelief.  This had to be a trick or something!  "That's not funny!  You can't leave me with him!"

"W-Wait!" Rome, himself, appeared to have come out of another stupor.  He followed closely after Germania and called to him, sounding almost as desperate as the boy in his grasp.  "What am I supposed to do with him?"

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," the slowly retreating land answered indifferently.

"Vati!" the boy tried calling to his guardian again.  He still received no response.

Rome stopped in his tracks.  "Ha…ha,ha,ha,ha!" he began to laugh.  "This is a joke, right?  You're joking!"

"I don't joke," was the only answer he received from Germania.

"Vati!" the boy was panicking now.  How could his Vati do this to him?!

"But…" Rome was once again at a loss for words.  "But what would I want with this weak brat?"

The "weak brat" would have forgotten his panic and given the Roman a piece of his mind if he had not noticed his grandfather halt and turn around.  For a moment, the boy felt hopeful that Germania was going to return for him.  But instead, the tall blonde stayed in his place and spoke directly to Rome.

"You have the world's most successful slave trade, don't you?"

The boy's eyes went wide with pure horror.  "VATI!"

"I wouldn't advise keeping him as a personal slave," Germania carried on as if he hadn't heard the boy.  "He would be more than useless, but it might be possible to get a few coins for him from an unsuspecting buyer."

The boy couldn't believe this was happening!  His grandfather was really talking about selling him as a slave—and acting like it was a casual conversation!  The kid tried screaming louder; kicking the air and demanding that his elder pay attention to him.

"Or you might sentence him to your gallys."

The little one clammed up when he heard Germania speak again.  The conversation was getting worse, now.  The idea of being chained up below a ship and forced to row until he collapsed (like the rumors always warned) made him become rigid.  The boy was still furious about what was going on, but his fear was beginning to win against his anger.  He now grew quiet for fear that he might break into sobs instead of speak.  And it wasn't like his tantrum had been working, anyway.

"Perhaps he will build muscle on that scrawny body after being made to do some real work for once."

The man speaking still didn't give so much as a glance in his grandson's direction, but the boy could somehow tell that the last comment had been meant for him to hear and reflect upon.  He hung his head out of habit.  He was always getting in trouble for shirking his chores at home in favor of more "awesome" endeavors.

"Then again, you could always feed him to your precious pet lions."

The little one gulped at the last suggestion.

"Although…they would probably spit him out," Germania said after he had seemed to have thought the choice over more carefully.

The boy couldn't get over his granddad's attitude!  He was suggesting severe punishments and tortures for him with the same tone that one might use for suggesting options for their next meal!  And, as if that wasn't bad enough, he would go on to discuss the pros and cons of each suggestion!  The boy didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"It might be best to use him in your gladiator fights," Germania decided.

"You're telling me I should sick my gladiators on him?!" the Roman Empire asked in alarm.  He was having a hard time believing what he was hearing, as well.  He always knew Germania was gruff and a real stick-in-the-mud, but he never thought that the region was this cruel!

For the first time in a good while, Germania actually looked at his small (and now slightly trembling) territory.  The boy looked back with pleading eyes.  Germania only gave a small smirk after studying him and returned his attention to Rome.

"He might be small, but he's a fighter.  Trust me.  I guarantee he will give your people an entertaining show before your warriors cut him down."

The boy could only gape in terror at the cold words.  But his grandfather wasn't quite done.

"Or just have him whipped and crucified," he finished with a shrug.  "I really don't care," he added as he turned his back to the duo once more and began to return to his own home.

If it was possible, the boy turned whiter than he was before.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  Lions?  Gladiators?  Crucifixion?!  His childish mind was being abused with all of the nightmare-ish proposals that his own grandfather had suggested for his fate.  Without warning, more bad things began to fill his little head.  He could remember all of the other horrible tortures and punishments that the Romans were famous for using on condemned prisoners, like himself.  He began to regret ever going after Rome with his crop in the first place.  What had he been thinking?  Sure, the empire was more than worthy prey for his little implement, but the boy should have known that he wouldn't have been able to make an easy escape after doing the deed.  Now, it was too late.

"You're seriously just going to give him to me?" Rome double-checked while Germania was still within earshot.  "Just like that?  You're not even going to fight me for him or anything?" the empire sounded almost disappointed that there wasn't going to be an epic battle over the child.  He was always up for a good fight, and Germania was one of the few who could give him a real challenge.

"That thorn in my side isn't worth fighting for," Germania assured.  "He's your problem now."

That's when the child realized that this was it.  This was all really happening.  His guardian was strolling away and leaving him in the hands of an evil Roman.

"Vati!  Wait!" the boy no longer cared that his voice made him sound like he was on the verge of tears.  He wanted his grandfather!  "Don't leave me!  Vati!  Come back!"

Germania walked on.

The young albino could feel himself panicking again.  Nothing could describe the feeling of being deserted by one's own guardian.  He had to get his Vati to change his mind!

"I-I'm sorry, Vati!  I'm sorry!" the boy swallowed his pride (which was very difficult for him, because this particular minor's pride was so LARGE, that it almost made him literaly choke) in order to apologize for all the trouble he caused.  "I'll be good from now on!  Vati!"

Nothing he said worked.  Germania was getting further and further away.  He wasn't even faltering at the child's desperate pleas.

Tears that had been dangling dangerously at the edge of the boy's eyes for a long time now, began to tumble out at last.  The boy tried to wipe them away before Rome saw them.  He became angry at himself for showing weakness and even angrier at his father figure for abandoning him like this.  More tears than he would be able to stop, spilled out of him.  This was the furthest thing from awesome he had ever experienced in his short lifetime!

"V-Vati!" he screeched in anger as Germania disappeared behind a hill.  "You're…y-you're mean, Vati!  I hate you!  I hate you!"
The boy continued to shout and tell his (apparently now X) guardian off until he ran out of energy.  When he was finished, he hung panting and sniffling in the air.  He looked and felt absolutely pathetic.

"You're papa isn't a very devoted parent, is he?" the boy heard Rome speak up as last.

"Sh-Shut up!" the boy ordered as he rubbed the dripping snot from his nose.  "Vati will come back for me, and then you'll be sorry!"

"I don't think so, my little warrior," Rome said as-a-matter-of-factly.  "Looks like you're with me from now on."

Suddenly, child felt his stomach drop as the empire lifted him up higher to get a better look at him.  The pale youngster scowled back at the man examining him.  He was getting tired of being held off the ground by his tunic.  Rome didn't seem to notice the death-glare from his new land.  He rubbed his chin in thought.

The boy was still secretly scared out of his wits, but he wanted to appear unafraid of the muscular man that held him.  "What are you looking at?!" he demanded with all the courage he could muster up.

Rome overlooked the question, and instead, smiled cheerfully at the angry albino in front of him.  "And I think I know just what to do with you."

The child clenched his teeth as if he was baring fangs at the other.  That giddy voice and comical accent was starting to get on his nerves.

"You would make a perfect servant to my own grandsons!" Rome announced.

W…what the…?

"Wouldn't that be fitting?" the excited man spoke more to himself, than to the boy.  He seemed very happy and quite proud of himself for his brilliant judgment.  "The offspring of the great Germania, waiting hand and foot on the sons of the Roman Empire!" he mused to himself with a ridiculously wide grin on his face.

Now the boy understood why his grandfather preferred not to associate with the Roman Empire.  Everything his guardian had told him about Rome had been true.  The guy really did act like a cocky, blubbering idiot!

"Ah, it's so appropriate, don't you think?"

…No.  Way.  The boy was not going to stand for this!  Abandoned by his Vati, or not, he was still a proud Germanic tribe and he was not going to take orders from the enemy of his people!  He was too awesome to bow down to anyone, even to the nation who was practically the ruler of the whole world!

"And it won't be long before your 'Vati' is doing the same for me, my little—"

"Like Hölle will I ever cater to one of your un-awesome decedents!" the boy's shrill voice interrupted.

Rome looked caught off guard by the boy's outburst.

"Foolish barbarian!" the proud pipsqueak pointed his crop right at the Roman for emphasis as he continued to shout.  He felt strangely empowered as he did this.  He was sure that not many people had ever snubbed the Roman Empire to his face before!  This was kind of awesome.  "I will never stoop as low as to play the servant to a filthy Roman!"

From that point on, the little rebel began to swing his crop furiously at his foe; cursing everything Roman, all the while.  Rome simply held the boy further away from him.  The crop swished through the open air with a vengeance, but it never made contact with its prey this time.  The boy was being held a safe distance from his weapon's target.

Rome seemed to find this all very amusing.  "Ha, ha!  Germania wasn't lying!  You are a fighter!" he complemented as he tried to seize the crop with his free hand.

But the boy didn't give up.  The laughter only made him swing harder, as Rome fumbled, trying to catch the striking implement.  This didn't continue for long, however.

Rome seemed to grow tired of the struggle.  He stopped laughing, unexpectedly.  His cheerful expression disappeared.  His face formed a new, focused expression that seemed to say, "Enough fooling around, here."  Before the boy knew what happened, Rome had snatched his wrist.  The Roman's reflexes had been so precise, that he had caught the boy's arm in mid swing.

The sudden immobilization of his arm caught the boy by surprise.  He looked at his hand, and then looked at the nation that was gripping it.  What had happened to the giggling idiot?  Now, Rome was actually looking more like a serious warrior.  The boy had a bad feeling about this.

"I'm impressed with your spirit," Rome seemed to be genuinely complementing the boy, before continuing on with a dark tone: "But you should know that the Roman Empire doesn't turn a blind eye to rebellion."

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt his arm twisted.  The pain forced his fist to open.  His faithful crop dropped to the ground.

Rome let the boy's arm go when the crop fell.  The boy took the chance to cradle his twisted his arm.  He whined as he rubbed his wrist in an attempt to nurse his wounds.  (In reality, Rome hadn't twisted the little arm very hard, at all.  The boy was a bit of an over-dramatic, himself)

Picking up the discarded crop and examining it; Rome had only one thing to say:

"Cute."

All whining ceased and a moment of silence followed.

Cute?  CUTE?!  The boy felt rage consuming him!  His crop was not "cute!"  It was AWESOME!  It was the most awesome-est thing ever crafted, and it was to be feared, not mocked!

"Give that back, schwein!" the enraged boy demanded.  The Roman Empire was not fit to touch his most awesome crop!

"Hm?  Still trying to fight me?" Rome asked inattentively.  He was devoting his attentions to experimenting with swishing the crop through the air.  The boy couldn't tell if the empire was trying to understand the appeal of the instrument, or if he was really just playing with the crop for his own childish amusement.

"And I haven't even done anything to you."

The kid responded by calling his captor the worst profane name he could think of.

Rome turned to the runt and raised an eyebrow.  "At least I'm not the one who gave you away for nothing."

…The boy felt like he had been jabbed in a sore spot…that prompt had stung…worse than the boy's abused wrist.  The boy didn't know how to answer it.  He felt hurt thinking again about how his Vati had given him up without even a second thought.  He clenched his fists at his side and hung his head.  Almost as soon as he had he bowed his head, the child felt a familiar texture under his chin, nudging him to look up.  When he opened his eyes, he saw that Rome had used the crop to raise his head.  The empire's expression had now switched to one of slight pity.

"Don't be upset," he encouraged.  "Being my territory won't be so bad.  I'll treat you better than Germania."  Here, the Roman smiled and moved the crop back and forth through the air.  He almost looked like he was using the long crop to tap an invisible banner displaying all the benefits of being a Roman citizen.  "You'll get to live in my nice house, and eat my delicious food, and wear my fashionable clothes—"

"Who's upset?!" the boy cut in.  "I don't need any of your un-awesome things!"

Rome's smile vanished again.  "You're behaving very rudely to your benevolent empire, you know."

"Get used to it!" the boy's pale face had gone almost completely red by now.  "I'm not your territory, and you're no empire of mine!  The awesome me doesn't answer to anyone!"

Rome frowned.  "So stubborn," he commented with a sigh.  "I think I should give you a tiny sample of what happens to those who resist me."

Before the child could register the words, he suddenly felt the world spin around him.  Rome had flung him up in the air.  The boy let out a squeak of surprise as he flew upwards.  When he came down, Rome caught him with ease.  The empire then carried the little territory under his arm like a sack.

The boy's bad feeling returned when his head stopped spinning.  He realized that Rome was no longer going to go easy on him.  He now remembered his grandfather telling him once that Rome should not be underestimated.  At first contact, Rome seemed like a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but he could be ruthless when necessary.  The man had built himself the most powerful empire in the world, after all.  One doesn't create something like that and keep it running smoothly by being soft.  Those under Rome's thumb had to be careful.  As long as they paid tribute to the empire and didn't stir up trouble, everything was good.  But go against Rome in any way, and the foolish ones would be crushed.

As he was being carried off, the boy became very afraid of whatever the man holding him was about to do.  Whatever it was, he knew it wasn't going to be good.  The boy started the struggle against Rome like he had never struggled before.  He kicked his legs and banged his fists on the Roman's stomach.  Unfortunately, his blows were easily deflected by Rome's golden armor.  But the boy refused to give up.  He fought hard.  He began to curse the Roman out once again.

Rome just calmly walked over to a conveniently placed boulder.  He sat down and deposited the thrashing child easily on his lap.  The boy tried to escape but Rome put a large hand on his back to hold him down.  Then, the child felt his tunic being pulled back.  That's when the horrible realization of what Rome was planning to do hit him.

Everything in the boy screamed that he couldn't let this happen!  "LET ME GO!" he loudly commanded through gritted teeth.  His awesome pride felt wounded with his body just being in that embarrassing position.  If he let this continue, it would be remembered as his worst defeat.  He went back to kicking furiously.  He put both hands on the lap and grunted as he tried to push himself up.

THWACK!

The boy stopped kicking and cringed when he felt a stinging pain on his calf.  Whimpering, he used his other leg to rub the injured one.  That.  Had.  HURT!  He could swear that he could already feel the welt forming!

"That was a warning. Now stay still, before I hit something more vital," Rome's strong voice ordered.

The boy shuddered at the words.  Clearly, the smack had been a warning for him to keep his legs still.  He was so ashamed that it was actually working.  Inside, he wanted to keep fighting this, but now he was too scared to try.  Curse his un-awesome childish survival instincts!  The poor boy didn't think that things could get any worse than this.  He was over the lap of his grandfather's worst rival, about to be taken down by his own awesome crop.  Oh, the shame!

"By the way," he heard the voice above him add, "this is also for your impudent little surprise attack, earlier."

The young one could feel himself getting sick again.  Rome's hold on him was rough, despite the fact that he was no longer struggling.  The boy knew that Rome was going to go much tougher on him than Germania.

He closed his eyes and tried to remain defiant.  He would not show his weakness again!  He was awesome, after all!  And awesome people don't cower!  Awesome people don't beg for mercy!  Awesome people don't cry!  Awesome people never call for help!

Then he felt Rome shift as the man raised the crop up for the first strike.

"VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
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No.  He was not awesome.  At least he was not as awesome as he thought he was.  He realized it at that moment.  Who was he trying to fool?  He couldn't stand up to The Great Roman Empire!  He was just a puny kid—a puny little kid who could not even stop himself from calling out for help when he was in trouble, just like a baby crying for its mommy.  He knew deep down that calling for his Vati would be useless, but he couldn't help himself.  He just wanted to go home!  If only Germania would come back and reclaim him!  He would never slack off on his chores again!  He would never talk back to his guardian.  He would never pick on his little bruder.  He would never be late for anything, and he would never play with dangerous weapons in the house ever, ever, ever again!  But he knew that his father figure wasn't coming back.  The boy had driven his elder away.  Now, thanks to all of his stupid antics, he was about to get the beating of his life with no one around to save him.

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The boy heard the sound of his crop swish as it came down.  He expected to hear the SMACK come next, but instead, he heard a clapping sound.  He flinched.  It took a moment for the boy to realize it, but nothing had made contact with his rear.  Everything was quiet.  The boy waited.  Nothing happened. There was no noise and no pain.

"On second thought…"

The boy hardly dared to open his eyes at the sound of that voice.

"If I disown him now, I would be getting rid the only baby-sitter I have for my younger grandson."

The boy's head shot up.  He strained his neck and turned his head around as far as he could manage.  He couldn't believe it.  Looking over his shoulder, the teary-eyed boy saw a familiar blonde elder, standing next to Rome.  The man had Rome's punishing arm firmly grasped in his own large hand.  It looked like he had caught the arm just as Rome was starting to swing.

"V-V-Vati?"

Germania moved his gaze from the stunned Roman to his grandson.  A corner of the tribesman's mouth turned up as he simply shook his head at the child in Rome's lap.  The boy noticed the hidden smile.  Could it be?

"Give the boy to me, Rome," Germania said with a sigh.  "I'll make sure he doesn't bother you again."

The boy felt like leaping for joy!  His grandfather had come back!  He was going to be saved!  Germania was now reaching down to take him.  The boy made a move to get up and jump into his Vati's awaiting arms.

"Now hold on!" Rome put a hand on the boy's white head and pushed him back down unto his lap.  "You said I could have him!  You can't go back on that now!" As he spoke, the Roman sounded more like a whining child than a powerful empire.  "I've already started to get attached to him.  He reminds me of my oldest," the empire laughed his own observation.  Then, he perked up as if he had gotten a new idea.  "They would probably make good playmates!  That would be just wonderful!  Then I could spend even more time with my little Italy pumkin!"

From his uncomfortable position, the boy gave a huff.  Now who was being the bad parent?  The child felt disgusted at the empire's obvious favoritism.  Granted, sometimes the boy thought that Germania secretly favored his little bruder more than him (not that he cared.  He was too awesome to be affected by things like that), but Rome had been insulting his grandfather's parenting skills when he, himself, wasn't all that great.  The boy hated hypocrites.

Suddenly, the boy heard the sound of metal un-sheathing, and he immediately felt the pressure on his head decrease.  Now that he was able to raise his head again, he looked up to see what had happened.  Germania had drawn his sword and was holding the pointed end to the Roman Empire's throat.

"I said: Give.  Him.  To me," Germania spoke softly, but his words dripped thick with unspoken threats.  His features were dark and deadly serious.  It was made clear to Rome that Germania was not in the mood for any of the empire's nonsense today.  "Perhaps I will relinquish control over him one of these days, but it will never be to the likes of you."

There was a standstill between the two nations.  The boy waited with anticipation to see what would happen.  He stood in awe of his grandfather as the seconds ticked by.  He hardly ever got to see the fierce region in action.  Germania was truly awesome.  The boy was proud to call such a warrior his Vati!

Above the boy, Rome was trying to decide what to do.  Part of him wanted to fight (part of him always wanted to fight), but something about Germania seemed especially scary right now.  Did Rome really want to get into a tussle with the great Germanic nation when he was in such a bad mood?  Was the scruffy kid in his lap really worth it?  And all that aside, it was getting to be dinner time.  Rome was hungry.  And he knew for a fact that there were some beautiful ladies at his place that had been awaiting his return from the battlefield….

After what seemed like forever, Rome made his decision.

"Fine," Rome dropped the boy on the ground as he relented.  "Take him."

"VATI!" the boy cried.  He wasted no time in running and leaping into his grandfather's embrace.

Germania almost toppled over at the force of his grandson colliding with him.  He had not been prepared for the small child to make such a great, seemingly impossible, leap right into his chest.  He had to put some extra effort into steadying himself and keeping his sword upright, while the boy wrapped his arms and legs around him.

"It was just a thought," Rome sighed and tossed the crop in the Germans direction, as well.  "But the next time I catch him on Roman soil," the empire warned before taking his leave, "he's as good as conquered."

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"Vati!  Vati!  Vati!" the boy cried into his grandfather's neck.  They were walking home, now.  The boy made no effort to stop his stressful tears now that he was with his trusted Vati and far away from the enemy.

Germania walked on and allowed his child to cry into him.  The region said nothing, remaining as stoic as he usually was, but every now and then he would pat the boy's back with a strong hand.  It wasn't much, but the boy understood that it was his grandfather's way of giving comfort.  It was ok.  He prefered it to anything else.  He didn't want to be cuddled and shushed like a baby (in the same way Rome probably did to his spoiled grandsons).

"Y-You…" the boy spoke up when he was able.  "You weren't really going to give me away, were you?"

Germania grunted.  The boy waited nervously.  He didn't know it, but his grandfather was wondering if he should give away the fact that it had all been an act.  He had wanted to teach his grandson a lesson.  If the threat of disowning was kept alive, maybe the boy would be better behaved.

"Nein," Germania admitted.  In the end, he didn't want to crush the boy's spirit.  "But that does not mean that you should keep giving me reasons to abandon you."  (Still, the tribesman had to appear tough)  "Keep it up, and you just might wear me down one of these days."

"I-I'm sorry, Vati!" the boy quickly piped up.  "I'll try to be good!"

"And don't forget what that Roman idiot said," Germania reminded.  "If you ever try a stupid thing like that again, he won't hesitate to claim you for his empire, and I might just let him the next time."

"I won't, Vati!" the child proclaimed.  "I promise I won't attack Rome again!  I'm gonna wait until I'm much, much stronger!"

Germania rolled his eyes.

"Then I'll really let that jerk have it!" the boy thrust a fist in the air to make his point!  The Roman Empire would pay for the indignity he had suffered today! Until then, he would just have to practice his battle skills on weaker targets.  An evil grin spread on the boy's face as he thought about all the possible victims.  Some particularly special ones came to mind.  Ha, maybe he wouldn't be attacking Rome anytime soon, but that didn't mean his wimpy kids weren't fair game!

"You should let this be a lesson to you, my son," Germania's voice cut in on the boy's planning.  "From now on, choose your battles more wisely, and don't be so reckless.  I won't always be here to protect you."

"Why?" the boy asked innocently.  "Are you going on a journey, or something?"

Germania grew quiet.  He seemed to be thinking.

"Ja," he answered softly.  "One day, I'm afraid I will have to leave on a very long journey.  You need to be able to take care of yourself and your bruder when I'm gone."

The boy puffed up with pride.  "Don't worry, Vati!  By then, I'm going to be so awesome, that I won't ever need anyone to protect me!  I'll take care of West and teach him how to be a good fighter, too!  You wait and see!  One day, we'll be even stronger than that Rome guy!"

Germania smiled, despite himself.  At least his grandson was ambitious.