What Have You Done? {Netherlands x Reader}

"Why, why does fate make us suffer?"

Note: This story takes place during the Dutch Revolt. Also, it's a songfic to 'What Have You Done' by the Dutch band, Within Temptation. Enjoy ; v ;

His body pressed to yours, his hands roamed over your skin; his mouth was territorially placed to your throat and with each touch, a more intoxicating desire overwhelmed your entire being. "Netherlands…" You breathed out, just as he pushed you against the wall.

The storage room was nearly pitch-black, especially with its absence of windows. The air felt thick, musky, and a thin coat of sweat covered both your skin and his. You were both breathing heavily, hearts racing. He was burning with passion and you were drowning in greed, yearning for more and more of his tantalizing touch.

This shouldn't be happening.

You knew this wasn't meant to be.

And yet, you gripped his collar and tugged him closer to you, forcing your lips into yet another deep kiss with his. He complied and you ran your hands through his messy blonde locks.

You shouldn't be doing this.

He was on the opposing side.

This was war, and he was the enemy.

The personification of Netherlands,to be exact.

He was trying to break free from Spain's control—as were the other Protestant nations. You'd been working as a maid in Spain's mansion during the time Netherlands, Belgium, and South Italy were residing there.

You and Netherlands had immediately struck a chemistry upon first meeting. The longing for, the craving for each other took off one day into something more.

You weren't sure if he was serious about you. Most days you felt like nothing more than a convenient girl for him, but right now all that mattered was how he made your body feel. "Mmm…"

"_..." He murmured your name against your lips, his lower teeth grazing your mouth. "I need you…" He gently bit your bottom lip, pulling in a way that stimulated your senses.

The voice that said you weren't supposed to be doing this kept nagging at the back of your mind. He'd already started a rebellion for his independence. You were on Spain's side, and Netherlands was supposed to be your nemesis.

Finally, despite all the pleasure he was gracing your body with, you managed to tell him: "Y-You have to leave… if anyone sees you here, you'll be taken prisoner…"

"You won't let them hurt me."

You pulled your lips away from his and clenched your teeth, affronted. "You shouldn't talk that way," You didn't like his arrogance. Perhaps his republic's quick rise to a world power had turned him egotistical. He clearly wasn't serious about you and you weren't going to be his pet any longer—especially not during the middle of war. "Netherlands, you have to leave. Now."

He stared at you, somber. "Don't be like this, _."

"You need to go back."

He averted his eyes, "I told you that I needed you…"

You looked away from the charm. "You should have told me about this before you started fighting with Señor Spain."

His hands curled into fists at his sides. "…I can't stop fighting Spain. I'm going to win this, _."

"I have weaponry training starting tomorrow. I'm still on Spain's side."

Once he realized what you were implying, his expression turned harsh. Bitterly, he warned you, "Don't do this. I don't want to fight you. Don't join this war, you hear me?"

"I'm going to, and you need to leave." You'd promised yourself that you wouldn't give in to him anymore, no matter how intensely you felt physical attraction towards him.

"You're going to get hurt." He growled out as he picked up some weapons and prepared to exit enemy territory. "I'll say it again. Don't join the war, _."

He was gone before you could answer him.

As soon as the door shut, you crossed your arms indignantly. "You don't care about me…" You accused aloud, even if he wasn't there anymore.

He really doesn't…

-or so you thought.

Little did you know, Netherlands paused right outside the door. He looked into the sky and sighed heavily. "_..."

Would you mind if I hurt you?

Understand that I need to

Wish that I had other choices

Than to harm the one I love…

Gravel crunched beneath your feet as you walked out to your first day of training.

I'm really going to be a soldier… you thought with both a hint of fear and a hint of pride. You summed it together as excitement. I'm going to fight in this war in the name of España.

Once you vowed to protect the nation at all costs, you were sent alongside a troop of new soldiers to Miss Belgium. She'd be the one teaching you how to handle artillery.

You'd lived here your whole life and you weren't about to let your national pride be damaged. I can do this, you told yourself.

She started off easy, but she was fast-paced about it. She probably had hundreds of new troops to teach every day.

Some hours later, it was time for a break.

Miss Belgium was sitting alone beneath the shade of a tree, and you decided to go over to her. As soon as she saw you, she smiled and waved. "Good work today, _."

"Thanks," You responded as you plopped down next to her.

She continued eating her lunch, but you had important things you'd been wanting to talk to her about.

"Is something wrong?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

You exhaled quietly. How could she act so chipper when you understood she was going through something very difficult? It wasn't quite every day that two personifications—siblings more importantly—fought against each other. You knew she must be worried for her brother. Or… perhaps not? It was time to find out. "H-How are you feeling today, Miss Belgium?"

She looked momentarily stunned by your question. Her pretty green eyes widened slightly and then she looked away, "Oh… I'm… doing well, I suppose…"

She was a solid friend to you, and yet she almost felt like a stranger these days. She'd known you'd had something with Netherlands before he left, but she just didn't know if it was serious or not. Of course, that was to be expected, seeing as you didn't know either. You assumed it wasn't, especially after your last encounter with him. "Is it… hard to know you're in a war against your brother?"

She sighed dismally, "I… well, of course it's hard…" Right. She was no monster. "It's… I just feel very conflicted. I want to stay on Spain's side, but Ned just had to go and…" Her frown deepened and her eyes clouded over. "I wanted to be with Netherlands, but I knew I had to stay here…"

As much as you hated to admit it, you felt similar about the situation. You'd been tempted to go after Netherlands, to follow him and join his revolution. However, all of your roots were in Spanish territory. It was your home. You couldn't just leave, even if it was for someone like Netherlands.

You'd had an on-again, off-again low key relationship with him for the past few years and he wasn't someone you could easily forget about.

It almost felt like a bad dream that you desperately wanted to wake up from. "Miss Belgium, I—" You began, until you started to hear a familiar rumbling that signaled future bloodshed.

Belgium immediately stood up. "Go notify Mr. Spain that we are under attack," Her voice was sharp, commanding . She grabbed a Danish ax that had been propped against the tree, "Hurry _."

You nodded and ran in the direction towards Spain's mansion. As you looked on the horizon, you saw a nearly endless row of horses stampeding their way into Spanish land. The horses were covered in armor, their riders wielding swords, maces, war hammers, spears, among other weapons, as well as the Dutch Republic's flag.

Chaos pursued.

The new soldiers weren't ready, and the Dutch troops must have been aware of this.

How calculating.

They always seemed to be one step ahead of Spain lately.

As you sprinted towards his office, you couldn't help but think of the enemy.

"Netherlands…" You hissed aloud.

What have you done now?

Suddenly, this all felt very real.

It was indeed no nightmare.

You'd never firsthand witnessed a battlefield, or watched soldiers fight for their lives right in front of your eyes.

Oh, how small and afraid you were back then.

A year following that first day of training and first battle.

The months were grueling.

You worked your body mercilessly. Your stamina seemed to increase with every battle. Slowly, you were getting stronger, obtaining new skills and new forms of combat.

At the moment, you had no idea who might win the war. The Dutch Federation was pushing further and determined to win their independence. The Spanish army was strong, but it was difficult to manage several warfronts at the same time, such as with the Ottoman Empire as well.

Spain himself was under constant stress and you feared for his health. He was clearly not doing well emotionally, because the sun never shined anymore.

As a child growing up in Spain, you'd often been told the light always shone here because of the personification's sunny smile and bright personality. Now… he wasn't so lively; it was raining in his head so the country was filled with clouded days and a gloomy atmosphere.

Your first few experiences in war were truly frightening. So many cries and screams of agony that you couldn't stop to help. Weapons clashing. Riders falling. Stabbing, slicing, pounding. You'd carried on heartlessly, not stopping to watch your enemies fall lifelessly to the ground. You'd resumed like a cold-blooded killer. Your tales of war battles were not anything you cared to share with family or children; you did not want to scare them or convince them you'd turned into someone else.

After a year of fighting, you were back home for a little while. It was a well-deserved break, and Belgium had made sure to praise you on your contribution to the war efforts. She'd called you a very valuable soldier and said Spain was lucky to have you.

A few days back home were all you needed. You could finally relax and not constantly worry about getting attacked. At the moment, the Dutch troops were far from your home in Spain, so there were no surprise battles to stress over.

You couldn't deny that you'd spent the last year thinking about Netherlands, partially because of your complicated past with him and partially for the fact that you'd fought against his rebellion for months. "Netherlands…" You said aloud whilst lying in your bedroom. "Why didn't you want me to join?" You still remembered that conversation with him clearly. Is it true you didn't want me to get hurt? Did you actually care about me or not?

"No…" You covered your face with your hands. Stop thinking about him. He didn't actually love you; he never did and never will. Stop trying. You wanted to stop hoping that maybe a bit of him missed you, the way a part of you missed him too. His flawless lips on yours, his muscular chest over your bare skin, his piercing green eyes that had stared into yours countless times; his spiky blonde hair that you'd often knot your fingers into. You missed touching him, even touching the scar over his forehead that was always tender. You missed wearing his striped scarf that always carried his unmistakable scent of tulips.

I miss the old you…

But this was over; you were already aware of that.

I know I better stop trying

You know that there's no denying…

You rolled around on your sheets. I've officially cut all ties with him—now's not the time to be longing for him. We're going to bring you down, Netherlands… It's over.

The words still didn't sound right in your head. They probably never would until you told them to him in person.

I should get my mind off him, you realized.

Since your parents were busy working today (but were going to take the week off during your break from war), you decided to go out for a little bit. It was lonely being at home, especially after all those months of camping out with your fellow soldiers, falling asleep to the sound of their breathing.

You put on a nice dress and headed out for the town. It was a refreshing change to being in uniform all the time.

Once in the village, you looked around at some of your favorite shops. You even purchased a few small items to keep in your pockets when you went back to war. It would be easier to remember the innocence of back home this way.

After a couple hours, you started on your way back to the house. You were walking down an alley when you caught the blurred colors of blue and white out of the corner of your eye. What… no… you thought to yourself. But you had most definitely caught sight of a blue-and-white scarf, even if you only saw it for a moment. But that could only belong to…

No way.

He couldn't be here.

However… he's not entirely the one running the war… you recalled. He had bosses and higher-ups as well as other countries working on his side, but to see him here was a shock.

You remembered that he could possibly be here to deliver more weapons. Again.

Of course he'd still sell weapons to Spain even if he's at war with him… you sighed. Well, he always did have an obsession with money. And he could definitely use more of it at this time too.

He hadn't seen you yet. You peered from behind the alley wall and saw he was purchasing something from a Spanish vendor. His back was turned, but it was definitely Netherlands. That scarf and skyward hair were unmistakable.

I could possibly… work this to my advantage…

For now, you were a solider again.

And idea came to mind that wouldn't go away.

You could capture him. He was an easy target right now. Spain would be pleased. You'd have the upper hand. It could be a turning point in the war. You'd win fame. Netherlands, defeated… you were more driven by revenge.

I won't show mercy on you now…

You squatted down, hidden in the shadows.

A dagger was clutched so tightly in your hand that your knuckles turned white.

Second thoughts crept into your mind. Could you really do this? Were you capable of betrayal this severe? This was Netherlands, the man, not just the nation. The man you'd gone so far with… and for what? For this? This exhausting, peace-depriving, dreaded battle that changed your relationship with him forever?

Subconsciously, the dagger fell from your hand. You stared down at your shoes, heart pounding harshly against your chest. Your vision blurred. Was it from fear or tears? You couldn't tell.

Breathing heavily, you stood up. Your legs were shaking. You turned away from Netherlands and faced the alley wall for a few moments, trying to gather your thoughts.

Once you finally returned to a close-to-normal state, you felt a cold hand grip your wrist. Another quickly slid up and covered your mouth before you could scream or react in any way. "Mmph-!" You tensed in surprise, your knees feeling weak.

From behind you, the attacker whispered into your ear, "Kick that dagger away from here."

You glanced down at the dagger that was already a few inches away from your foot. Knowing that you should probably cooperate, you kicked it away without a second thought.

You recognized the voice anyway. He uncovered your mouth once the dagger was out of sight. "What are you doing here, Netherlands?"

He knew you weren't a threat, at least not right now. He let go of you and allowed you to face him. "_..." He quietly looked you over and sighed. "You look… nice."

You glanced down at your dress. Of course he'd say that.

You took him in as well. He was wearing a khaki jacket that was opened to reveal a navy blue undershirt. A matching khaki messenger bag was across his shoulder. The scarf was still wrapped around his neck and fell down both sides of his shoulders—which were as broad as before—and his chest muscular beneath the thin shirt. This was the first time you'd faced him in months, and you thought you should be feeling anything other than what you did now—which was the infuriating urge, desire to touch him. He was the enemy, and yet… why did you want to kiss him so badly?

"You've been taking part in the war, haven't you?" Luckily he spoke to distract you from your thoughts.

You looked away from him and nodded, your eyebrows furrowed with slight irritation—mostly at yourself. "I'll win for Spain."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "This is dangerous… I don't want you out there."

"Why do you care?" You hissed, the thoughts that you meant nothing to him resurfacing in your mind.

He crossed his arms, glaring at you slightly. "Is it so disturbing to say I've missed you?"

Startled, you took a step back. Averting your eyes to the ground, you spoke barely above a whisper, "That… can't be true…"

His voice didn't falter. "It is."

"I…" You looked back up at him. He towered over you and it was easy to say he was intimidating, but you knew what he was really like. "I know I was just a convenience for you. There's no need to deny it, Ned. You never cared about me; s-stop acting like you do." You'd been telling yourself this for so long—convincing yourself that he never actually liked you. It was about time you heard his response to it. You realized you were terrified to hear him confirm it, but it was too late to take anything back.

After a few heartbeats, you heard him grumble out, "…What makes you say that."

What makes me say it? Oh, I'll tell him what makes me say it! You were enraged. Clenching your hands into fists, you raised your voice and spat, "You left me! You used me! I was just to relieve your stress, wasn't I? You never wanted anything real with me!" You exhaled through gritted teeth, "You can't play with me like that Ned, I'm a human with a heart and feelings. Don't do this to me…" You hadn't known when the tears had formed around the corners of your eyes. They stung and it hurt to be having this conversation. As much as you despised to admit it, you truly liked him and he didn't return the feelings.

"_." His voice was clipped. Before you knew it, he grabbed your shoulders and brought you close to him. He quickly thumbed away your tears and found your lips with his.

You wanted to relax, but you found that you couldn't. "No…" You put a hand on his chest and pulled away, wiping an eye with your other fist. "Don't… you're doing it again."

"You haven't gotten my letters."

"You just… wait," You stared into his face. "What letters?"

He shook his head and looked down, "I wish you knew that numerous times, I tried to write you. But whenever I tried to mail them—here, to Spain—they… were sent back to me. Unopened. The postage wouldn't allow the piece of delivery in enemy territory, _."

Your heart throbbed against your chest. "I…-"

He continued, "-So I kept the letters. Every single one. I wrote new ones every day," He started to reach for the messenger bag that was hanging over his shoulder, "And every day they were sent back to me." He opened the messenger bag and turned it upside down. "I brought these in hopes of seeing you again." Stacks of envelopes fell from the bag.

You gaped. Finally, with heavy arms and shaking legs, you bent down to pick one up.

It was dated to about seven months ago. 'My dear _,' it began with.

"They all started with the same line," He told you.

The first line was 'I miss you'.

He really meant this?

His feelings were genuine?

No…

You couldn't believe this.

Whether it was true or not, you still had to fight against him.

This couldn't work, even if you wanted it to. You'd already convinced yourself of that.

Stop believing it could happen, you told yourself. "We can't be together, Ned." You felt more tears sting at your eyes. "It's… your entire fault."

You ran out of the alley… still clutching the single letter.

I know, I should stop believing

I know, there's no retrieving

It's over now, what have you done?

Once back at home, you paced for several minutes, trying to decide if you should finish reading the letter or not.

What good would it do? Nothing. Still, the curiosity was eating at you.

Finally, you decided to open it before you did something you might regret. You'd been contemplating throwing it away but thought better of it.

Twenty minutes later, you were sitting on your bed, reading and re-reading the letter. It was only one of dozens that you'd picked up, and it was short, but heartwarmingly sweet.

My Dear _,

I miss you.

Not a day passes that I don't think about you. I could apologize for my actions, but I won't. I'm sorry my rebellion caused us to part, but I won't say I'm sorry for acting upon my need for independence. I've caused us both grief, and you have a right to be angry.

I don't expect you to forgive me, ever.

But I want you to know that I've missed you.

-Netherlands

Below was an attached romantic poem from one of his favorite authors. You knew that he'd always enjoyed reading poems of these sorts.

…What have you done to my heart? you repeated to yourself as you read the written words over and over.

You stayed there in your room crying until it was time to go back to war.

What have you done now?

As you stood in uniform listening to your commander go over battle plans, you reached into your pocket and squeezed the small knickknack that you'd purchased in your home town. It managed to calm you down a bit. However, it sometimes brought back unwanted memories.

"Do you remember how we first met?" Netherlands had once asked you.

To which you'd smiled and responded, "Of course. It was a time like no other."

And true to your word, it was.

You'd been dusting Spain's flower vases near the entryway when you heard voices float in from the front door. "Good afternoon!~ Nice to see you all." Spain's cheerful voice greeted.

'Those must be the newcomers', you'd thought to yourself.

You'd always been a lonely soul. No one to love but your parents. None of your relationships ever lasted, and you never expected to make eye contact with the personification of Netherlands and instantly feel such attraction.

'Him,' you thought. 'I could really fall in love with him…'

As he and his sister stepped inside the house for the first time, you watched him, and he discreetly eyed you. Several times. That first eye contact had left you both magnetized to each other.

He was the greatest thing you'd ever set eyes on and you were infatuated for weeks. You tried anything to get near him. Your plans seemed to have worked because he always noticed you.

It started off simple. He asked you for your name. Then he asked if you could show him around. He talked with you for hours, even when you were supposed to be working. You were simply a maid, but he made you feel important.

Slowly, he began to make advances on you.

Of course, you accepted them without hesitation.

Thus started the complicated relationship.

He felt like the only one for you. He made you feel things no man ever did. You didn't think you could ever feel this strongly for anyone else.

Whether you wanted him to or not, he'd stay in your memories forever.

"-_." A stern voice broke you out of your flashback.

Your head shot up, "Y-Yes?"

"Go sharpen the weapons. It's your duty today."

You nodded quietly and headed for the blacksmith area, but your thoughts still lingered on Netherlands.

Always, he'd be here—in your memories. You weren't sure if you could go after anyone else besides him.

Why… Why did this have to happen, you thought bitterly as you got to work on a scythe.

I, I've been waiting for someone like you

But now you are slipping away… oh

Why, why does fate make us suffer?

There's a curse between us, between me and you…

You were on your way to a battlefield, surrounded by your fellow troops.

The sky was clear. Your uniform was clean. How soon would it be covered by enemies' blood? How soon would there be rotting corpses covering the healthy green grass?

Weapons were ready. Everyone around you was prepared to die in the name of Spain, and with honor. You weren't scared anymore. You'd killed Dutch soldiers before; you didn't feel remorse for their death.

Did that make you a monster?

Should you feel guilty?

You'd seen countless deceased bodies. You were no longer fazed. What kind of murderer were you?

Taking in a deep breath, you peered over toward Belgium. She was leading the rows of troops, her lips pressed into a cold, thin line. Her eyes had lost their usual shine and were replaced with an empty stare, almost like that of a lifeless visage. She had turned emotionless, distant. Her old self was long gone. War had turned her into someone else, perhaps something with a bit of evil.

Needless to say, Spain was far from himself as well.

And you?

What were you?

You weren't the same person as back when you were working as a maid.

Did war change you?

No, there was no question about it. War changes everyone.

For you, Netherlands was to blame. He seemed to always be the one to blame—for all the painful emotions you felt, as well as all the agony that came with being a solider on the opposing side.

You felt lonely again, abandoned.

It almost felt like he had never been a part of your life.

If you didn't feel all this excruciating heartache, you'd probably question if he'd ever been there at all.

What have you done?

What have you done?

What have you done now?

Soon after, the battle began.

Everything seemed to pass by in a blur. The deafening sounds faded into white noise. Javelins were being thrown, longbows were shot, lances went hurling, cavalrymen were stampeding and artillery cannons were going off in all directions. So much more chaos ensued that you weren't a part of.

You were currently hiding behind a large rock, clutching a Morningstar and looking for the right time to strike a distracted Dutch solider.

However, once you peered over the other side of the boulder, you caught sight of a different Dutchman retreating behind the forest trees.

What is that troop doing? And why did he have a body built suspiciously like Netherlands's? "Don't tell me…" You scowled and decided to follow him. Besides, the previous solider you'd been preying on had already been taken out by an ax-wielding Belgium.

Netherlands… is that you… the thought kept repeating in your mind as you chased after him. The trees were thick and hard to navigate through, but you kept an eye on him and he eventually came to a stop at a clearing.

Am I going to kill him?

Did Spain want you to kill him?

And could you really kill a personification? You weren't entirely sure what your intentions were, but he took off his helmet and faced you.

The letter came back to mind.

'But I want you to know that I've missed you.'

"_... I knew you'd see me." He threw down the helmet along with the weapon he'd been carrying. They clattered to the grass as he stared into your eyes. You two were a good thirty feet apart, but he wouldn't look away from your face. "…Before you decide to do anything reckless, I want you to know that I…—" His voice caught in his throat, but he swallowed and anxiously continued. "-I love you."

The words struck you like a spear through your heart.

Every sentence he'd written on that piece of paper came flooding back into your thoughts.

'I'm sorry my rebellion caused us to part,'

'I've caused us both grief, and you have a right to be angry.'

'I don't expect you to forgive me, ever.'

He backed away when he saw you were still gripping your Morningstar.

Was he really going to run for his life?

From you?

"_... please," After several tense moments, he cautiously stepped closer. "Do not do this."

Would you mind if I killed you?

Would you mind if I tried to?

'Cause you have turned into my worst enemy

You carry hate that I don't feel

It's over now…

What have you done?

"I've always loved you…" He slowly took another few steps closer. "I never wanted to hurt you, and I won't." Analyzing your every movement, he crept over to you—but still kept his guard up in case you decided to attack.

You were trying to fight two urges at the same time. One was to run away. The other was to run into his arms. Still, your fingers felt tied around your weapon; you couldn't bring yourself to drop it.

He's the reason Belgium and Spain aren't themselves anymore.

Belgium, his own sister… he did this to her…

And then there was what he did to you. There was what he did to an entire nation.

"I told you I needed to do this. Soon, other republics will be fighting for their independence as well. It's only a matter of time. We were just the first to do it," He was going to talk you through this. "We… couldn't handle Spain's rule. We were burdened with heavy taxes and given little guidance; we were criticized for acting without permission from the throne. Spain's troops were constantly coming in to seize order. Didn't you know all of this, _?"

The truth was that you didn't.

Not much information had been given to the people of Spain. Only higher-ups knew the reasons why Netherlands had rebelled.

Now that you thought of it, what other reasons could have caused them to fight back? The soldiers like you weren't told much other than to protect the country of Spain.

Could you really have been blindly following their orders when the Dutch could have very well had a good reason to resort to violence?

You finally threw your weapon down.

"I… really love you, _. I never wanted things to come to this," He ran his hands through his flat hair, scratching away the strands that hung in his eyes. "My worst fear was… well," His voice softened, "I… had nightmares every night… that you'd be the one to end my life."

Me? you felt breathless.

"Yes, you may have a right to hate me. However… is it selfish to hope we could reconcile?" He chuckled a bit, but you knew it was only out of desperation and exhaustion.

"There's no way we could do that," You finally answered.

He stared down at the dirt somberly. "I see…"

"I told you—we can't be together. We're literally in the middle of a war."

He kept his eyes on the ground, a dismal expression on his face. "Do you hate me?"

You thought back to all of the horrible things that he'd done—all of the pain he'd inflicted on others, even his own little sister. These war scars would stay with them for all eternity. You had no idea how he could fix these problems with Belgium or how he could possible resolves these issues with you either.

Sighing, you looked up at him. He met your eyes. His were a dull shade of green and hiding pain; you had no idea what yours looked like. "Netherlands…"

He was the man you'd always dreamed about. You wouldn't let the feelings get to you, but you found yourself wanting to forgive him.

You wanted to apologize for your own actions, but that idea sounded atrocious. However… you understood that he had a good reason to fight back.

You'd never felt more conflicted. "I'm sorry, but I don't know…"

I, I've been waiting for someone like you

But now you are slipping away… oh

What have you done now?

Why, why does fate make us suffer?

There's a curse between us, between me and you…

Before he could utter a sound, the crunch of footsteps came into both his and your earshot. "Surround her!"

Startled, you spun around to see a group of Dutch soldiers had found you two out here. "Spears ready!" There was a full circle of them around you and they all raised their sharpened weapons. Yours was still on the ground a few feet away. Panic rose up in your chest and you broke into a cold sweat.

"Step no closer," Netherlands was still there and did not hesitate to block you from them.

Still, your heart soared. Was he really going to protect you when he knew you'd been thinking about taking his life just moments earlier?

"Mr. Netherlands…"

"I won't let you hurt her." He hissed, giving each of his men an icy glare.

They instantly looked as if they'd been slapped in the face.

"Are you mad?!"

"What are you doing?!"

"She's a Spanish soldier!"

You couldn't see his expression as you hid behind his back, but he calmly responded, "She's more than that."

"Has all that smoking gone to your head? Move over!"

Ignoring their leader, they began closing in. They were prepared for a bloodbath.

"Are you plotting against your own republic?"

"Do you want us to lose?"

"We've come this far!" One of them raised his spear again, "Are you going to throw your life away by trusting this Spanish scum?" He spat the word 'Spanish' like venom.

"That's enough," Netherlands's voice was sharp. Before you knew it, he'd picked up your weapon and unleashed himself on all three of them.

"Mr. Netherlands…!"

He'd turned on his own men just for you.

It was a quick round. They weren't nearly as strong as him. He'd gotten a few blows but not enough to stop him. "I make the decisions. Don't kill this one. Now go make yourselves useful." Weakened and clearly out-skilled, the wounded soldiers scurried out of the hidden woods.

Once they were out of sight, he grunted and fell to his knees.

"Ned…" You ran over to him and kneeled beside him. "W-Why did you do that?"

He was pressing his left hand to his right arm where you could see blood pooling out from between his fingers. "Did you really think I would let them hurt you?"

The sight of him injured made you tear up. "You could have been killed…"

"It wouldn't have mattered if it was for you."

Quietly, you choked back a sob. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. He would have given his life for you? After all the hard times he'd spent in this war, he'd give it all up for you? It sounded impossible.

You looked at him closely—hair limp, dirt covering his face, cuts and bruises all over his exposed skin. His arm was bleeding.

This was real and he was serious. He'd meant every single word he'd told you. "N-Netherlands…"

You'd made up your mind.

Wiping away a single tear, you stated, "We'll see how this ends."

"…What do you mean by that?"

You gazed over to the battlefield. You were disheartened to see that your side was losing.

Horribly.

Dutch victory appeared on the horizon.

"…I'm not going to join your side."

"I didn't ask you of that."

"I'll continue fighting for Spain."

"And if you lose?"

You looked back over to him and asked instead, "What will you do if you win?"

He didn't skip a beat. "Build my new nation. You'll… be welcome there."

You nervously clenched and unclenched your fists, but you knew what you were going to do. "I'll continue to fight. But I know that doesn't mean we'll win." You paused. "…I hate to think about us losing,"

At least you knew that if your side lost the war, Netherlands would be safe from harm. "But I don't know. I'll think about… us."

However, you knew that if you lost, you'd definitely consider seeing him again.

I will not fall

Won't let it go

We will be free when it ends…

Eight Months Later.

The Dutch Republic was now free from Spain.

Some fighting continued, but not on your side.

For you and your nation, the war was over.

You were back to working as a maid in Spain's mansion, and you were currently on break. "Miss Belgium?" She'd been out in the garden picking tulips when you approached her.

She turned and smiled once she saw you, "Oh hello _. What brings you here?"

She looks… so much like her old self, you realized. It had taken some months, but she finally seemed like the Belgium you knew before her older brother revolted. "I, um… just wanted to check up on you."

She grinned that cat-like smile of hers, "How adorable of you. I'm doing fine, thank you."

Obviously she hadn't known what you meant by your question. You knew she was hiding turmoil beneath that cheerful façade. Her usual personality may have come back, but that didn't mean she wasn't still hurting on the inside.

"It feels like we haven't gotten to talk," And it was true, because for over six months she'd been locking herself in her room, refusing to come out until days when Spain would beg her to open the door. "I know… this must have been hard on you. There's no need to pretend around me."

Spain was looking better too these days. It seemed he finally understood why Netherlands left. It had taken Belgium much longer to revert to her usual ways, though.

"I see…" She put down the tulips, any previous signs of a smile vanquished from her face.

There was a question that had been eating at you for months. You didn't want to ask her until she seemed stable enough. "…Can you forgive him?" You'd spoke it before you could change your mind.

To your surprise, she wasn't fazed in the slightest. "The question is if he can forgive me."

You tilted your head, brows furrowed slightly. "Why you?"

She clasped her hands in front of her waist and responded softly, "He needed this. It was bound to happen. I know it may sound taboo to say this, but I'm…" She seemed to be looking through you, a faraway glint in her eye. "I am happy for him," She smiled again, albeit smaller than before. "And I wish I could see him again. He's my big brother, and I'll always love him."

"But Belgium," You reasoned, "So why can't you see him? Aren't you going to go visit him?"

"Maybe someday,"

That night, you found a note on your front door.

It was from your local post office. It said now that postage between Spain and Netherlands was allowed, they had recently received some letters for you to pick up.

"It took them this long to get all those letters?" You thought aloud, but shook it off once you recalled all the stress and chaos that occurred both during and after the war. Of course it took them this long to get mail sorted again.

They must be the ones from Netherlands…

You hadn't heard from him since the war ended. He'd sworn to build a republic that would gain power as well as its own title as an independent country. He was free from Spain, but he still wasn't a recognized nation. He's definitely busy with other wars, you knew it. He was probably drowning in stress, business, politics, and work. This was the reason you hadn't tried contacting him; you'd only be a distraction to all of his hard work.

As the note instructed, you went to the post office the following afternoon. According to the note, you had stacks of envelopes to pick up. They must be the ones he tried sending during the war against Spain… you exhaled thoughtfully and smiled a bit. It would be nice to see his writing again. It would be nice to hear new things from him; it would be nice to be reminded that he loved you.

Because you loved him as well, and you'd wait however long it took to be with him.

"Here are your letters, madam. We couldn't have them delivered due to the excess amount we've been receiving for the past eight months, from people all over the Protestant providences." The person behind the desk handed you the stack of letters.

"Thank you," With that, you scurried home.

You clutched the letters tightly the entire way there.

Once you stepped inside your bedroom, you'd already had one open.

You then spent the rest of the afternoon and evening reading and re-reading all of them.

Your heart pounded throughout each and every sentence that he'd written. You never lost the excitement; you never lost the grin on your face.

Each time you spotted a bunny drawing in one of the corners, or read aloud a love poem that he'd attached (or written), your body swelled with love. With each letter, the rabbit drawings or original poems improved more and more.

He loved you, he did.

If you didn't fully believe it before, it now felt as true as there were stars in the night sky.

You felt like a fool for dismissing his feelings for you in the past.

He'd hardly shown emotions to other women in the entire time you knew him, and you were always a first priority to him, even in war. He'd protected you with his life. If he died, you never would have forgiven yourself.

It was finally about time you let him know that.

You took in a deep breath. Your heart was pounding, blood was coursing through your veins and your knees felt weak. Gathering all your courage, you lifted a heavy arm to knock on the door.

It belonged to Netherlands. You were currently standing in the newly formed Dutch Republic.

Finally after what felt like an eternity—which was really only about a minute—the door creaked open.

He appeared; between his lips was a lit pipe. His expression didn't change, but you noticed the way his eyes lit up. "Oh… _. We have a lot to discuss," He opened the door wider and turned around, signaling that you could step inside. "Do come in."

As you walked inside, you glanced around his home to help distract you from the anxiety you were feeling. Why were you so nervous to see him?

Oh, right. You'd finally realized you loved him back.

You noticed that his house was orderly and clean, just like the room he stayed in back at Spain's mansion.

Many bookshelves covered the walls. In some corners were vases with flowers. His kitchen looked tidy despite the ashtray that was situated in the corner. "I…" You tore your gaze away from the other room and faced him. "I just came here to see how you were doing." Liar. "And to… talk with you… it's been a while, Ned." You looked into his eyes and smiled shyly.

He was leaning against a piece of furniture, arms crossed, watching you intently. Smoke wisped from the pipe. "…I know,"

It almost felt like he was waiting for you to say it. "I've missed you… okay?"

He didn't respond, but he uncrossed his arms and stepped a bit closer.

"I…" You felt your mouth go dry. "I finally got the rest of your letters, and I felt like I gave you enough time, because I figured you were really busy, and I just…" He kept staring at you. It made you uncomfortable; you had no idea what to say next. You were at a loss for words. "I'm… sorr—"

Before you could finish apologizing, he stepped in closer. About as much closer as he needed to. He set down his pipe on a nearby counter. "-_." He gently raised your chin with his finger and brought your lips to his.

It felt like a sweet, warm, welcome-back kiss.

You were immediately lost in it and felt as if the stars had aligned for this one moment to make everything in your life perfect and blissful. A tingling spread down your body and a fluttering in your stomach caused you to admit against his lips, "I love you."

He smiled. You could feel it against your own smile. You rarely saw him look happy—he always appeared solemn and you were tempted to pull away just to see how he looked, but he wrapped his arms around your waist at the moment to lock you in his embrace. He wouldn't let you pull away. "I think we've waited long enough," He admitted below his breath.

Your smile turned into a full-on grin.

It was about time that you understood your relationship with him.

There was to be no more questioning, doubting, or fearing.

He was no longer the enemy.

Everything was clear now; everything was as it should be.

"Netherlands… I'm sorry…" He deserved to hear you say it.

He softly pressed his forehead to yours. "What are you sorry for?" He kissed the bridge of your nose. "And does this mean you can forgive me too?"

This time, you didn't hesitate to answer. "There's nothing to be forgiven. You never did anything wrong." You'd realized this soon after his new republic emerged. Like Belgium had told you—it was only a matter of time until he left to be on his own and accomplish great things.

"The same to you," He responded as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one a bit more dominating.

You weren't sure where your future with him was headed, but you knew it would be somewhere peaceful.

I've been waiting for someone like you…

A.N.: I'm so glad I decided to give this story a happy ending, since after all, you two deserve to be happy, but the true ending to the song is 'there's a curse between us, between me and you' which hints at a sad ending. ;; - ;;

Anyway, the song is 'What Have You Done' by Within Temptation. I've wanted to write a Netherlands songfic to this ever since I found out that band was Dutch, heh heh. Also… my apologies if the historical era didn't feel accurate; I'm not the best at research.

My first time writing Netherlands, everybody. :D Hope you enjoyed, have a great day, and drop a review if you'd like~