Yes...another fanfic...and this is a weird idea...yeah...it's not set in the Hetalia universe nor is it historically accurate. Like an AU?
Disclaimer: I own nothing, NOTHING, I SAY. EXCEPT THE FANFIC...and even I'm not so sure of that...
He was loyal to the Spanish royal family and only the Spanish royal family. Any orders from them were final, even from the little prince who babbled and spoke of things like horses and didn't know any of the troubles in the world. He loved the family, loved their kindness and warmth, loved playing with their children and wanted to do anything to protect their happiness. He used to be the head of the palace guard back then and now, he was the captain of their navy.
Despite being so far away from their warmth and in this rough life of constant sailing and conquering, he was never bothered too much about it because he knew that he was doing it for them and he had to be loyal to his king and queen. Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo was a simple man who smiled a lot and was relied on by many people and has thus gained quite a reputation among the seven seas he sailed. He was oblivious to it all as he was trying to avoid staying on land for too long and have people be suspicious of the ship.
It all started back when the old captain got shot with an arrow. The wound got infected and they were afraid he would die, so Antonio, who was a competent guard, was trained diligently to be more proficient in sailing and various nautical skills. He simply listened, followed instructions and did his best. Apparently, he did too well and the old captain recovered, but then he retired and let Antonio take over his job. A bit miffed, Antonio agreed to do it as long as the king found another replacement and let Antonio return to being a guard.
Messengers came to congratulate him every time he won a battle, but none of them said anything about the king finding a replacement.
He was beginning to doubt his king, but he would continue his blind loyalty to him. It was only right of him, after all. It was only right...only right....despite how hopeless it felt, he would keep his head up high, smile, and be proud to be a loyal servant of his king. It was the last thing he had left.
Antonio walked out of the building, wearing a frown as he left. The messenger he had just talked to had not brought him much good news. In fact, he didn't bring any good news at all. Apparently, there were rumors of a new land and he was supposed to sail there and "convince" the inhabitants to submit to Spain. Oh great, another expedition, he thought, shaking his head and frowning. Thoughts like those weren't allowed. The blonde haired man next to him glanced at him, noting his tense way of walking.
"Mon ami, anything wrong?" the man asked, not looking very worried. Antonio always looked like this after getting one of the infrequent messages from the royal family.
Antonio smiled carelessly at the man, "No, es nada, Francis, now let's get back to the others, hm?"
The Frenchman scoffed, obviously not believing Antonio, but he said nothing more and simply nodded. There was silence between them as they walked past noisy villagers and even when they got back to the ship. Antonio turned to go to his quarters for a badly needed rest, but Francis laid a hand on his shoulder. Antonio raised an eyebrow at this, turning slightly to look at the Frenchman.
"Antonio," Francis said.
"Francis," Antonio replied, looking slightly confused.
Francis opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again to say, "I promise you, mon ami, someday, this seafaring life will end." He hugged Antonio, patting the other's back once before pulling away with a smile.
Antonio smiled back gratefully. Francis always tried to cheer him up when he wasn't feeling normal. He really was thankful for such a good friend, even if he was a bit touchy-feely sometimes. The Spaniard still remembered one incident where he was drinking one night with the Frenchman and the next morning he woke up with him in his bed, naked. Needless to say, it was awkward and they rarely spoke of it.
"Gracias, mi amigo. I appreciate it, I really do," Antonio's smile widened to show that he was sincere and he walked away to his cabin. Once inside, he collapsed on the chair, clenching his fists and frowning since nobody could see him. He leaned back on the chair, glancing at the bottle of brandy on the floor.
He didn't drink it that day. Not even alcohol would help his frustration.
The next day was sunny, as expected. Antonio helped the men with the buying of supplies. They did have to stock up on food that needed to last a long time.
"Ergh, what a heavy load," one man complained to nobody in particular.
Antonio laughed, closing his eyes as if he was blinking, but he kept them closed for a second too long for it to be considered a blink. When he opened them, he had almost bumped into a blonde man with striking green eyes.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, git!" the man said in an accent Antonio knew to belong to English people.
"Ah, lo siento, I'm sorry! I was distracted, wasn't I?" Antonio laughed apologetically, trying to not look at the other man's eyebrows. They were bushy and desperately needed trimming.
"Tch, stupid idiot. I knew those Spaniards were all the same," the man sneered, crossing his arms. Antonio resisted the urge to punch him.
Instead, he brushed it off, chuckling forcibly, "I see, how nice! Excuse me, señor, but I really need to get by you, so would it be too much of a bother to step to the side?"
The man smirked, but stepped to the side just like Antonio had asked him to. Antonio nodded to him as he passed, glaring for just a little moment as if to warn him.
That meeting would haunt Antonio forever.
Fear the horrible beginning that hints to what might happen later on. FEAR IT. It'll get a bit better later on. And the title will make sense later on too.
And this will take a few chapters before I finish it, don't know how much. I don't update regularly really.