Scoffing lightly, Romano stood outside of Spain's house. He was seated on the dirt of a patch of tomatoes near the house, with a bowl of water with him. He was pretending to actually be doing work, but in actuality, he was just picking the ripe tomatoes off the vine and then washing them in the bowl. This was really the only type of cleaning he was ever going to do. He then, after cleaning the tomatoes off, would shove them down his throat.
"So yummy..good thing that bastard isn't home, he won't catch me doing this, the stupid fucktard." He wiped his mouth clean of the juice and then brushed off his apron of any falling dirt from tomatoes. He had to look somewhat presentable, even if it wasn't for anyone else to see. But he was Italian! Always looking good was his specialty!
With a lonely sigh, he looked up at the sky. Falling back, he heard the sudden 'squish' sound and his eyes widened, as he felt a wetness go through his pink dress. With a loud string of curses, Romano leapt to his feet and tried reaching behind him, trying to scrape off the tomato. He hated the feel of trickling juice down his back.
And then he felt a hand gently peel the tomato off his back and tossing it to the ground.
"What the fuck? Don't touch me, bastard." Thinking it was Spain, he whipped around and landed a swift punch to where Spain's leg should be.
But it wasn't Spain.
"Ow! You shouldn't just lash out and punch people in the chest!' There was a blond, spikey-haired boy standing there. He was a little, okay a lot, taller than Romano, and he looked older. His lips curved up into a smile, "Hey! You're that South Italy kid, huh? Cool, cool!"
Lovino stared in horror. He had no idea who this was and Spagna wasn't there to save him - not that he ever needed it! Gathering up courage, Romano forced out a, "Who the fuck are you, spikey bastard?"
He was responded with a laugh from this odd looking country before him. Romano was confused. He wasn't a chibi, nor was he an adult like España. He looked like the human equivalent to a ten year old. As if he was growing slowly into a country.
"My name is Denmark. And I'm the King of Europe!" He put his hands on his hips and boasted, sticking up his chin to look regal.
"You don't look like a king. You look like a kid." Lovino crossed his arms and gave this 'Denmark' boy a raised, irritated eyebrow look.
That crushed him slightly. "But I am! Sverige even says so!" He left out the part where he had to threaten Sweden in order for him to say it. Denmark deflated even more, and then his face flushed. "So, I got lost. I was supposed to be going to some place for a meeting with the guy that owns this place. Spain, right? I thought it was gonna be here but I guess not. You're his subordinate, yeah?"
"You ask a lot of dumb questions." This pompous (okay, still taller than Romano. By a lot.) terd was the country Spagna was meeting with today? What were they planning on talking about? "Why're you meeting the tomato bastard?"
An air of age surrounded the child-looking country and Lovino thought for a second that maybe he wasn't only just a few years older than himself, that this Denmark was a lot older, but just growing slow. "Importing and exporting. I've noticed that Spanien isn't doing so well in the money department -"
"-He doesn't need your charity! He's doing just fine without you!" Lovi scowled and turned his face away.
"Not charity," said Denmark, "I want to help. I'm a kind king. I was going to discuss lowering tariffs so that consumers were can have more. Seeing people loving in poverty when I can help isn't a great feeling."
The chibi fell quiet. This spikey bastard, obviously of German decent, wanted to help tomato bastard? Spagna had been really poor lately, especially since he had entered the war against the Ottoman Empire. "I don't know. Still seems pretty fucked up to me."
Denmark shrugged and leaned down to pick up a tomato. He dusted it off and then handed it to the smaller male, "My boss says it won't work. I'm still going to try. Besides, helping is my number one priority."
South Italy took the tomato and stared at it with a slightly reproachful look, "I'm watching you. Better not try to take over tomato weirdo's house or I'll kill you with a spoon. Don't you dare." He had a slight protective flare in his eyes.
"Who said I was doing this for his benefit? You live here, ja?" He reached out and pat Romano's head, "Your economy is based on his." With a joyful laugh, he pulled away from the confused chibi. "Alright, gotta go. You might want to change your dress, there's a really big stain on the back of it." He turned on his heel and his cape flourished, "I'm the king of Europe. And you'll be my queen of Europe."
And then he marched off, mumbling about how he was gong to get to the Café De España to meet up with Spanien. He disappeared around the house, hands wringing together.
Lovino was left with a completely confused look. Out loud, he said, "What the fuck? Spain's dumb little café is like, on the other side of town. How did he get lost?"
Denmark peeked out from the side of the house, "Okay, you caught me. I lied. I didn't get lost. I just wanted to see you. Also, don't step backward. You've got like, two tomatoes you're going to step in." And then he was really gone with a quick smile and a, "Farvel, min dronning!"
The chibi was amazed. Not that it showed too much, but he was. This northern nation was so weird! He gave a laugh of amusement before gathering up his tomatoes and going inside. Dumping the red fruits onto the table, the Italian started up the staircase that led to the second floor. His little footsteps echoed in the empty balls as he entered the one room he rarely went into. Not because Spagna forbade it, he just couldn't reach many of the books. The library.
"Every library has one of those big books with the stupid maps in it, right?" He tended to think better when hr spoke out loud, so he continued to mumble to himself. "An atlas, right? Is that it?" There was a large pedestal that had a big book on it. He grabbed onto a chair from one of the tables and shoved it towards said stand. It fell.
"Stupid..chair.." He grunted and tried to pick it up. He struggled for a moment before giving up. Trying again with a different chair and getting it over to the atlas, he did it. Climbing the chair and opening the ancient book, Roma sneezed from the dust that spiraled up. He searched the pages for a map of Europe, and this was one of those maps that had an enlarged picture of each country in the world. It took him a minute or two, but he found it. His prying eyes immediately found the country of Denmark.
"What is this shit? His country is smaller than mine! Why's he older than me!" With a growl, he slammed the book shut and the force of it was too much. Romano fell backwards, right onto his bottom.
Another angry, pained growl ensued. He scrambled up and shoved the chair down. After a minute, he climbed back onto the chair, after restabling it, and opened up the book. He ripped out the page with Denmark on it and folded it neatly, placing it into his apron pocket. Then ripping out the page with his own country on it, folding that as well and it went into the same pocket.
Lovino left the library the way it was, chairs askew, atlas opened to the ripped pages. He wandered to his bedroom before swearing and going back into the room. It took him a lot longer to find the next book he needed. Danish to Italian translator book. It was nearly impossible, but somewhere, it was found.
Then he began to mutter, wondering what the heck Denmark had told him in Danish.
"Farvel, min dronning." The language felt so wrong on his tongue. It was very Germanic, something he wasn't too particular about. When he got to his room, he set down the book and muttered it again, "Farvel, min dronning."
Opening the book he found out the meaning of 'farvel'. It meant 'goodbye'. The rest of the sentence was easy to find. 'Min' meant 'mine' and 'dronning' meant 'queen'.
"Farvel, min dronning." He sat there for a moment and then his eyes widened, "Goodbye, my queen."
Right as he was going to start screaming profanities, he heard the front door open and the familiar footsteps of Spagna walking into the house, and then the routine call of, "Lovi?"
"Don't call me Lovi, you bastard!" He screamed, trotting over to the desk in his room and laying down the book. He got out a slip of paper and wrote down, 'Farvel, min dronning means goodbye, my queen.'
He opened up the ripped pages of the atlas and grabbed some tacks, pinning them next to his bed. Under them, he pinned up the paper with the Danish translation on it. Stepping back, he didn't realize that this would be the first of many sentimental Danish quotes he the would have on his wall. He took a breath and left his bedroom, planning on yelling at Spain. To tell him that he wasn't allowed in the Italians room anymore.
Years later, Romano remembered the Dane. He got notes, little one-liners from him every few years. He kept them. They kept him going. And he found that perfetto.
Title means "I loved you before you loved me' in Danish.
