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Description
Mafia Hetalia Fanfiction

The Duty of An Elder Son
Chapter excerpts 6-10
Link below

"What proposition is this Grandpa?" Feliciano asked curiously, a fork dangling from his mouth. If that had been Lovino he would have been scolded but as his dopey little brother he got away with it. His amber eyes were large and curious but not innocent, Lovino could see that he too had noticed his Grandfather's grin. The grin he only used when one of his deals had gone his way. To see it at the dinner table was disturbing.
"I have already breached the subject of bodyguards to you Feli, I have decided to go ahead with it. It seems my only option if I wish to protect you boys from my ah- enemies." His Grandfather entwined his fingers together and leant on his elbows as he gazed at the table in general, his eyes calculating. "Ludwig has already agreed to be yours my dear and Antonio-"
No, no, please no-
"Will work with Lovino."

"You look just like your mother Kiku," he said his voice surprisingly strong. "But I see you have inherited your father's cool expression and searching eyes."
He bowed. "He taught me very well, Sir."

"Look Lovi!" He said louder than usual, touching him on the arm lightly as they passed a greengrocers. Despite himself he glanced towards the shop that he was pointing to where a large basket of tomatoes glinted in the sun outside looking ripe and edible. "They look just like you!"

"Did your Grandfather find out you were working here?"
"No he knew-" Wait a second. His gaze flicked back up quickly. Francis' face was frozen in a questioning expression, one eyebrow raised elegantly. He was not shocked or displeased. Suddenly something clicked in his head: Francis knew he was not poor.
"You knew?" He gasped, a thousand questions tumbling into his head but he only managed to work his mouth around the one. "How?"
"Of course I knew!" Francis scoffed with a wave of his hand as if to dismiss his words. "My dear, I am French. I would be an embarrassment to my country if I could not tell that your clothes were ze finest quality. Zey were too well made to be ze clothes of a pauper."

Ivan sighed, reaching forward a hand to move his piece from the board: a white marble queen. He twiddled it in his fingers as he answered.
"We wait." He said calmly, his eyes on the chess-piece. Toris too stared at the piece in his hand as though fearing that in would end up embedded in the board rather than on it. "I have made my move, it is now Roma's turn. Let him plan, I will be ready for him."

"Ahh Lovino, welcome!" Again with his first name, he must have been in a really good mood or perhaps he saw it as inhospitable to call a guess by their surname in the house. "Dinner is on ze way, I 'ope you like risotto."
"Sì," He replied in Italian without thinking but Francis tittered with laughter as if he had told a joke. Alfred just looked confused.
"'See'?" He repeated. Lovino winced at the brutal murder of the simple word. "Does that mean yes?"
Francis rolled his eyes and smirked. "No mon cher, it means 'risotto is my favourite food ever!'"
"Really?" Alfred said blissfully ignorant. "Well you learn something new everyday, eh?"

"Hello there boys," He greeted them as he continued undressing. His accent was the same as Peter's but more cultured. "Am I meant to assume that we have a guest for dinner?"
"Yep dad," Alfred sang, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He was like a little kid. "This is Lovino-"
"I had guessed." The man's voice was stern as he turned to his son but cleared when he held out his hand to Lovino. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, Lovino, I've heard a lot about you."
He took his hand in his own and shook it. His hands were dry and rough. "Lovino Vargas sir, it's nice to meet you."
Arthur's hand around his own spasmed briefly, tightening on his own hand painfully. His face remained frozen in a welcoming smile but his eyes had lost their warmth. He let his hand go quickly as though he had received a shock and took a step back.
"Vargas?" He repeated.

Description
Mafia Hetalia Fanfiction

The Duty of An Elder Son
Chapter excerpts 6-10
Link below

"What proposition is this Grandpa?" Feliciano asked curiously, a fork dangling from his mouth. If that had been Lovino he would have been scolded but as his dopey little brother he got away with it. His amber eyes were large and curious but not innocent, Lovino could see that he too had noticed his Grandfather's grin. The grin he only used when one of his deals had gone his way. To see it at the dinner table was disturbing.
"I have already breached the subject of bodyguards to you Feli, I have decided to go ahead with it. It seems my only option if I wish to protect you boys from my ah- enemies." His Grandfather entwined his fingers together and leant on his elbows as he gazed at the table in general, his eyes calculating. "Ludwig has already agreed to be yours my dear and Antonio-"
No, no, please no-
"Will work with Lovino."

"You look just like your mother Kiku," he said his voice surprisingly strong. "But I see you have inherited your father's cool expression and searching eyes."
He bowed. "He taught me very well, Sir."

"Look Lovi!" He said louder than usual, touching him on the arm lightly as they passed a greengrocers. Despite himself he glanced towards the shop that he was pointing to where a large basket of tomatoes glinted in the sun outside looking ripe and edible. "They look just like you!"

"Did your Grandfather find out you were working here?"
"No he knew-" Wait a second. His gaze flicked back up quickly. Francis' face was frozen in a questioning expression, one eyebrow raised elegantly. He was not shocked or displeased. Suddenly something clicked in his head: Francis knew he was not poor.
"You knew?" He gasped, a thousand questions tumbling into his head but he only managed to work his mouth around the one. "How?"
"Of course I knew!" Francis scoffed with a wave of his hand as if to dismiss his words. "My dear, I am French. I would be an embarrassment to my country if I could not tell that your clothes were ze finest quality. Zey were too well made to be ze clothes of a pauper."

Ivan sighed, reaching forward a hand to move his piece from the board: a white marble queen. He twiddled it in his fingers as he answered.
"We wait." He said calmly, his eyes on the chess-piece. Toris too stared at the piece in his hand as though fearing that in would end up embedded in the board rather than on it. "I have made my move, it is now Roma's turn. Let him plan, I will be ready for him."

"Ahh Lovino, welcome!" Again with his first name, he must have been in a really good mood or perhaps he saw it as inhospitable to call a guess by their surname in the house. "Dinner is on ze way, I 'ope you like risotto."
"Sì," He replied in Italian without thinking but Francis tittered with laughter as if he had told a joke. Alfred just looked confused.
"'See'?" He repeated. Lovino winced at the brutal murder of the simple word. "Does that mean yes?"
Francis rolled his eyes and smirked. "No mon cher, it means 'risotto is my favourite food ever!'"
"Really?" Alfred said blissfully ignorant. "Well you learn something new everyday, eh?"

"Hello there boys," He greeted them as he continued undressing. His accent was the same as Peter's but more cultured. "Am I meant to assume that we have a guest for dinner?"
"Yep dad," Alfred sang, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He was like a little kid. "This is Lovino-"
"I had guessed." The man's voice was stern as he turned to his son but cleared when he held out his hand to Lovino. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, Lovino, I've heard a lot about you."
He took his hand in his own and shook it. His hands were dry and rough. "Lovino Vargas sir, it's nice to meet you."
Arthur's hand around his own spasmed briefly, tightening on his own hand painfully. His face remained frozen in a welcoming smile but his eyes had lost their warmth. He let his hand go quickly as though he had received a shock and took a step back.
"Vargas?" He repeated.