Rest Calm, Zun Dada

Eey, time to try the Unification Fic again! Exact same time-line as my Selfcest piece "Road to Rome". 19th century Italy!

I've given up on trying to form a coherent story with all the narrative gaps filled in, so I think a couple vignettes all collected here will make more sense. Will focus primarily on Italy Veneziano, but I expect chapters from Romano to show up later as well.

As a reference, my headcanon is that Nyo!Italy and Nyo!Romano are the kingdoms of Sardinia and Sicily respectively.

First vignette: Lombardy-Venezia!

Lombardy-Venezia

One of Three

1815-1816...

'Today is a good day.' He told himself, looking at his reflection in the tall mirror Miss Hungary had brought into the room for him to use. 'Smiling should be easy, don't be so nervous, Veneziano!'

Smiling at his reflection, it didn't work very well with his own eyes watching the glass, but when he closed them Veneziano felt his smile settle naturally on his lips, he could feel the tension seep out of his jaw so he wasn't clenching his teeth quite so hard. But they were still clenched, and he was still tense, and he didn't want to do this.

"Ita~?" Oh! Hungary! Spinning around quickly when he heard part of his name from the doorway, Veneziano kept his smile on and clasped his hands behind his back innocently.

"Ve~ Is it that time already? I was hoping-"

"Oh! You look so handsome!" Miss Hungary was so sweet, Veneziano had always liked her even when she'd made him dress up in her clothes and put flowers in his hair. He hadn't minded at the time, he'd really liked the colours and it hadn't mattered if he got his skirts dirty or torn or not- they weren't his. He just hoped, watching Hungary burst into his small servant's room, that she wasn't going to try suggesting it again. It had been cute when he was small, but now that his voice had broken it just wasn't right!

He was getting married, but Veneziano did not want to be the bride... He was happier in the long blue coat and white waistcoat Austria had ordered made for him, the cornflower britches and white stockings fitting well as he hadn't quite finished with his shoes yet. A blue ribbon held back the short tail of his auburn hair behind his head, a white cravat- just a knot of white silk, not lace, was bound under his chin.

"My little Vene, all grown up!" Hungary had a hard time with the first part of his name: she had a habit of pronouncing it Vinny instead of Vene, which was cute except for when it wasn't, which was becoming more and more often. But he liked Hungary very much, she was so sweet and kind and had always treated him nicely. And at least she wasn't calling him 'Vinnyshano' today...! "Lombardy is so lucky! Turn around and let me get a good look at you!"

Haha, Lombardy... Veneziano told himself not to clench his teeth and forced his hands to stop gripping his wrists so hard- he'd wrinkled the cuffs if he didn't stop. He turned for Hungary and let her coo and clap and look oh-so thrilled with the way he looked.

For herself, Miss Hungary looked very pretty in the peach-coloured gown she was wearing, red silk roses attached to the front under her bust while the layers of cloth fell down around her body- like sheets of gossamer from those old, old fairy tales... Her sandy brown hair was done up neatly behind her head, a deep magenta flower tucked behind her ear- probably a gift from Austria.

"Ah! Your hair is all a mess in the back, Ita!" It was? Reaching up quickly to check, he couldn't keep the disappointment off his face when his fingers touched rolls and twists instead of the simple straight lengths he'd tried to brush out. It had been nicer when his hair was a bit shorter... "Quick! Quick! Sit down and I'll fix it for you!"

"Uh- but Miss Hungry I can brush my own-"

"No! No! No!" She pouted, stomping her foot on the floor and pushing him over to the bed, forcing the young Italian to sit down. "After today you'll be a new nation! My little Vinny-" Vene! "-will be all grown up and I won't have any excuse! Oh, I used to brush your hair all the time when you were little and now Lombardy-"

Veneziano would dine with England before he'd let Lombardy touch his hair.

"You don't have to worry." Was all he said. It was all he had to say as Hungary removed the ribbon and began brushing out the auburn locks. She chuckled behind him while she worked.

"Oho~ I know you two have fought a few times, but I thought France helped calm you down?" By making them a Kingdom? Veneziano closed his eyes and tried to ignore everything that was happening to him, refusing to throw a tantrum over how unfair it all was.

"France thought it was funny to make us live together, I thought Mr. Austria would see that!" But instead, now that Napoleon was gone, Veneziano had been told he had to stay with Lombardy- and this time it was a marriage! Him! Married! To Lombardy! Why did everything with the Habsburgs have to end with marriage?

Veneziano liked weddings, he really really did, but not like this, he didn't want this to be his wedding. But he knew he wasn't going to get the one he'd always wanted either...

He let himself clench his teeth this time, not trying to smile. He had a lot to thank France for. First for what he'd done to the Holy Roman Empire, and now for the ideas he'd given Austria about Lombardy... Big brother was a big jerk.

But at least Hungary's hands felt nice in his hair, so Veneziano focused on that instead. She wasn't trying to braid it, was she? No, she was just combing her fingers through the slightly-too-short strands so the ribbon could go around neatly. But she was combing higher and higher, her rounded nails grazing his scalp. It felt really nice...

"You've always had such soft hands…" He didn't feel quite so bad if he thought about Hungary instead. He actually started feeling better if he just forgot about the wedding completely. If he was just going to church then he could see all of his brothers and sisters(Lombardy sadly included), there would be Naples and Sardinia and Sicily and everyone else, including the Papal States!

Maybe Papa would stop this stupid thing from happening! It was worth a shot to try asking, right?

"And you, Vinnyshano,have such messy hair!" Ve-ne-cha-no... He mouthed the proper pronunciation silently and then felt something... strange.

"Eey!" He jumped when Hungary's hand touched his hair again, making the strange feeling much stronger. What was that? Since when did that happen?

"Hold still, silly!" Y-Yes, he would... "This one stubborn curl, it's always been-"

"Santa Maria-!" She touched it again, her soft finger curling around the strands of red hanging next to his ear, her skin dragging down the length and causing a sharp bolt of something to arc across his scalp, down his spine and straight to his- "D-D-Don't!"

"Italy?" He jumped off the bed and clamped both hands over his mouth, Veneziano doing everything in his power not to turn around as a furious red blush covered his face. That feeling! It-

Hungary on her back under him, her soft wrists pinned beneath his hands while her pink lips opened against his. Her slender legs spread around his hips while he dragged those sheer skirts up and watched her blush rise with the exposure. When he was a child he'd bathed next to her but he'd never wondered about those feminine curves and swells that made up her body, that would all change if he just-

"Vinny?"

"I think the carriage is here-!" Run! Run away! He was sprinting for the door and still yelling as he hit the wall and kept going. "I'll go find Austria!" He just had to get away! He had to retreat as far away and fast as he could and not look back! He didn't care if Miss Hungary called him he had to get away and he ran, ran, ran!

'What was that!?' He didn't know! That had never happened before! Veneziano was three flights of stairs and two left turns from his room before he stopped running through the house, panting slightly with his back pressed against the wall between two massive portraits. 'Think of- think- um, Lombardy!'

Uuugh...

He felt a little calmer just with that, and after a few moments Veneziano stared at the red curl hovering next to his head, very carefully reaching out to it. His knees went funny as soon as he touched it though, a weak sound climbing out of his throat before he smacked his hand over his lips again. Was this what it meant to grow up? How vulgar!

It had always felt good, his curl, it was something special from Grandpa Rome. It had always felt nice if someone touched it, he'd always loved brushing his hair- why else would he have let Miss Hungary do it so often for him? But feeling good and feeling that were very, very different things...

'Lombardy can't know.' No! Lombardy could never find out! It would be way too embarrassing! He'd just... never, ever touch it? Well, maybe not ever...

"Italy?" Mm!

"Mr. Austria!" Standing up straight as the master of the house approached, Veneziano may have been dressed up nicely today but he was still a servant... Austria's clothing wasn't much different from normal, at least not in style, but his waistcoat was a deep goldenrod instead of the usual blue, the vest underneath it a glossy black- he was drawing attention to the colours of his national flag. With his thin spectacles balanced on his face, the tall aristocrat with his wide round chin kept his head forever tilted like he was looking down his rounded nose at the world.

"Italy, what have you done with your hair? It isn't proper to keep it down." The teenager's hand flew up to his hair again, embarrassed as he found his fingers tangling with the loose strands: he hadn't let Hungary finish tying the ribbon in place.

"Ah... yes... I-" The master scowled at him and Veneziano flinched back.

"Do not speak that language in this house, boy." He hadn't even felt the 'si' leave his lips instead of the Germanic 'da'. "You know better." Even on a day like today, Mr. Austria wouldn't let him get away with even a little bit of freedom...

"S- I mean yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir." But a meek apology was all he really needed to be forgiven, which was nice in a way.

"Now where's Hungary? We should get going, the Papal States won't tolerate starting late but we can't have a wedding without a groom." At least that meant Veneziano wasn't the bride, but he flinched a little just the same and, despite already being scolded once, he made one final plea.

"Mr. Austria, sir, is this really necessary? I mean, sir, is there no other way-?" The stare Austria gave him was incredulous, and a little bit threatening.

"You're a Habsburg now, boy." Austria scoffed, his tone dismissive as he pulled a pair of clean white gloves out of his pocket and tugged them on, striding past Veneziano, knowing he'd follow. "Let others wage war, but you, happy Italy, marry. Tie back your hair and lets go."

"...Yes, sir."

'I really don't like him...' A chance to go home was rarely given by Austria, so Veneziano took full advantage as soon as it was offered. He wasn't sure what exactly Austria had thought would happen when he sent the two of them off together after the ceremony in Vienna, but as soon as their carriage had come to the first junction on the road south, Lombardy had made it very clear that they were not going to spend the next two months together.

It was a waste of money for Lombardy to charter a second carriage for himself before they'd even left Austria's formal territory, but Veneziano hadn't argued. Now there were two carriages rattling through the low lands along the same road, but Veneziano was willing to spend the money if it meant not having to ride facing his little brother. Or, better yet: if it meant not having to ride facing his little brother who was annoyed that Veneziano wouldn't spend the money to get him his own carriage.

"There has to be a good reason for this, it's not just because we're both owned by Austria..." He reasoned to himself, thinking out loud because it made the carriage feel less empty. "I mean, Lombardy's very good at all kinds of things, and I'm good at things, so we're both very talented and it's a very good match. Our people will be happy. Or something...!" Facts didn't change anything, they didn't change the fact that he was in a union with his brother, a union that was going to be spent with the two of them living closely together in Austria's house. At least he still got to see Venice, at least he got to keep Venice...

If Veneziano's capitol was moved to Milan, he'd scream. Changing Lombardy's capitol to Venice wouldn't help things either: then he'd never get away from the interior province. Lombardy wasn't bad when there was someone else around, then Veneziano could handle him and not feel the crushing urge to bop his little brother on the head, or pinch him sharply around the mouth, or throw things at him, but as soon as they were alone together he just couldn't keep himself under control.

And now he was married to-

"Aaagh! The only way it'd be worse is if I'd married Austria!" Because that really would have been worse! That would have been impossible! He couldn't marry Austria! He couldn't! He wouldn't!

"I am not a Habsburg!" The driver must have thought he was insane, sitting in here yelling at nothing. "My name is Feliciano Vargas and I am not a Habsburg!" He wasn't Austrian! He was Italian! He was a descendant of Rome! He'd controlled the entire eastern Mediterranean with his empire- at least he had until stupid Ottoman Empire had decided to take the Morea, and after that everything had fallen apart! He'd been doing so well and then Big Brother France had come out of nowhere and-!

Stop it, stop it- if he kept thinking about it he'd just end up even more upset than he already was. Veneziano collapsed back on his seat and placed his hands over his face, muffling his sobs and trying to wipe the hot tears out of his eyes.

He'd grown greedy like Nonno Roma: that was why this had happened. He was lucky he'd just been taken into Austria's house instead of dying the way Nonno had. Veneziano's ships had been smashed and his paintings had been seized, but it wasn't like what happened to Grandpa. And he'd only had to marry Lombardy, not Austria himself, which was good because... because...

"Because if his boss had told him to, he would have forced me to marry him...!" And then Veneziano wouldn't have been in a carriage bound for Venice, and Lombardy wouldn't be on his way to Milan. He didn't know where his brother would be but Veneziano would still be in Vienna and he'd probably... Actually, he didn't know what Austria would expect, or want, or allow, Veneziano didn't want to think about it...

"I don't get it..." Slowly tipping over on the plush velvet bench, the carriage rocked back and forth as Veneziano curled up on his side, one arm bent under his head, mindful of the hypersensitive curl bobbing over his eye. "Lombardy's so small... He looks just like he did in the fifteenth century..." And Tuscany had been short too, with his curly black hair and soft brown eyes, he'd been poking Lucca until the other Italian child had started hitting him, and then they'd tussled on the floor until Sardinia made them stop. Their sister was one of the only ones who'd changed at all, and she was still a lot shorter than Veneziano was- she looked thirteen? Maybe fourteen? Pomera looked like he was eleven...

Blonde little Lombardy looked like he was nine...

They were all so small... No wonder everyone picks on them. They'd been fine until the other nations began to notice them for something other than art or trade: Ottoman Empire, France, Spain, Austria... They'd been doing just fine on their own for centuries and then everything had started going wrong.

"I... I think I hate it..."

Hate was not a word Veneziano liked to use. It was a very strong word, too strong. He might have said that he hated how his empire had collapsed, but hate was a very strong word for it. He didn't like losing his territories and being made to hurt so much, but he also knew he'd done things to make the Ottoman Empire made at him- it wasn't hard to think of examples. If he hadn't done those things and the Turks had stilled attacked like that then maybe he would use the word hate, but Veneziano knew better.

"I hate it..."

He didn't hate Austria. He was scared of him, but he respected him sometimes too: how could someone play such beautiful music and really be so bad? So no, he didn't hate Austria. And he didn't hate Miss Hungary either- he couldn't hate her, even if she embarrassed him so much...

"I hate it..."

He didn't... like... Lombardy. He did not like him. He did not want to like him. Veneziano did not like Lombardy, but he didn't hate him either.

"I hate..."

He hated having only two months to go home. He hadn't been within his own borders for years and now he was only going to be allowed to stay for two months. He hated having no control over the taxes on his people or the products passing through his ports, he hated not knowing what was going on or what other nations were thinking or doing. He hated being stuck inside that great big house all the time with no one but Miss Hungary and Mr. Austria to talk to. The only person who had made it tolerable was gone now, ten long, long years gone...

"I wish..." He'd lost the only person he'd wanted to keep near. He'd lost the one person who had made everything about that house seem alright. And not only had he lost that person, but Veneziano had rejected him...

If he hadn't done that, would he still be alive? Would Veneziano have been enough to make the difference- or would they both be dead now, not just the one person he'd wanted to keep close in his heart?

'Even at my strongest... was I still too weak?' Holy Rome... 'Even at my greatest... was I still too small?' They were all so small, all of the Italian brothers and sisters, they were all so small- so useless? Yes, useless. They were too useless to be any good to the nations that controlled them. They weren't even like wards, they weren't really children, they were more like pets.

Pets with leashes and fences and owners. Owners who fed and looked after them, owners who expected obedience like Mr. Austria. And who expected compliance like Mr. Spain. And who expected companionship like Miss Hungary. And who expected... whatever France had expected...

Italy was Europe's pet.

"No!" Maybe he was just hungry, maybe that was where these bad thoughts were coming from!

Sitting up quickly, Veneziano rifled around in the carriage looking for the basket of goodies he knew Hungary had given them for the trip south. He'd given the actual basket to Lombardy so he wouldn't complain so much, but Veneziano had split up the food and kept some for himself. It wasn't pasta, but there was some of the wedding cake that Austria had made, and fresh fruit with cream that he'd have to eat first before the milk spoiled in the summer heat. Half a roasted rabbit was also bundled up and Veneziano spent some of his time nibbling on the tender meat. He wasn't even that hungry but he made himself drink some of the wine too- straight from the bottle because Lombardy wasn't there and there was no point trying to balance a cup on a bumpy road.

By the time he was completely full, Veneziano was crying again. It wasn't because of his empire, or his marriage, or the fact that he accidentally spilled some of the wine on his new coat. He was crying again because he was a dog in a kennel with some food for a long journey. He was crying because his owners were letting him out so he could run around and burn off some energy before they collected him again and locked him back in the house. So he was crying, and he cried, and he cried, and he cried...

And he hated them.

Part 2 is finished but 3 isn't quite there. Updates will be SPORADIC at best.

Leave a review? There are a lot of OCs, but because this isn't a full-length fic they won't be terribly important.

IF YOU SEE ANY HISTORICAL INACCURACIES, PLEASE I BEG OF YOU PLEASE SAY SOMETHING.