|Occupation of Britain
Author: Garnet-Moon PM
Only one nation has ever managed to conquer him. He vowed to never let it happen again. England reflects on the Roman occupation of Britain and his first and last taste of oppression. He thinks of the invasion, the rebellion and the importance of freedom.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - England/Britain & Ancient Rome - Words: 1,921 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 50 - Follows: 2 - Published: 07-30-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6191328
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: The Hetalia manga and anime series do not belong to me
Occupation of Britain
Arthur could feel another migraine coming on. The world conference was once again descending into chaos and if it didn't stop soon he was probably going to explode himself. That idiot Alfred must have repeated the word hero about twenty times and the blonde seemed to think everyone was hanging on his every word. Across the table he could see Germany beginning to twitch and knew that he wasn't the only nation at the end of his patience. Muttering some excuse about getting a drink he stood up and left the room; though no-one noticed as they were too busy watching a yelling match between Greece and Turkey.
He slammed the door shut behind him and let out a breath, finally some peace and quiet. He strode down the corridor at the end of which there was a vending machine. The machine chugged out a bottle of water and he took a swig; idly wishing he had a nice hot cup of tea instead. His eyes drifted over some of the paintings that decorated the walls. Some of them where of great historical events like the American Revolution (he still had scars from that) and the reunification of Germany. Others portrayed tragedies that had happened so that no-one would forget: Hiroshima, Pearl Harbour, Auschwitz just to name a few. His green eyes landed on a marble bust and his hand clenched the bottle of water in his hand: Ancient Rome. One of the men Arthur could say he truly hated. It would come as a surprise to many that he despised the man, and that he was thankful that both Italies were nothing like their grandfather.
He sneered as he remembered the admiration the man had received; revered as a hero and a great warrior, whose death was a tragedy. Then again none of them actually knew the man, none of them had felt his oppressive foot stamping over their backs or people, none of them had felt the relief when the bastard had finally disappeared. England knew. England remembered. Though he wasn't called England back then, he was Britannia; a nation considered by many to be the ends of the earth were barbarians roamed and the land teemed with magic and treasure. Despite what people thought he was older than France, he'd just been small for his age. There had been no France but there had been Gaul, there had been Scandia, Germania and the others who had long since gone. He was the last one.
For years he had been free, wild and untamed. His druids and Celts had lived without contact with others for a long time until Rome had appeared. At first he had been cautious, unwilling to trust this tall stranger with the big grin, but he had slowly warmed up to him. There had been some trade and he'd found that he quite liked the amphora, olive oil and exotic food that made his tongue tingle. A bitter smile crossed his face. He thought he'd made a new friend, what a fool he'd been.
The first sign of trouble had come when some of his people had gone to aid warriors in Gaul against the Romans. His shores had been visited twice by Julius Caesar: the second time he had come 100 miles in land, then returned home. It was a warning to leave the battle between Gaul and Rome, he'd complied. Yet he'd forgotten how greedy Rome was, maybe he hadn't wanted to face the truth or maybe he'd just been too young and naïve to see what would happen next.
43 AD: The Claudian Invasion – The conquest of Britain
That had been a dark time for him. At first he'd been so confused about what was going on that he hadn't been able to retaliate until it was too late. The Roman war machine began to work its way through his land. A proud smile replaced the bitter one, he hadn't made it easy. His lands and people had never fully been conquered and the Romans were unable to sweep over his "tiny island" as they had with so many other countries. The frontier was never clear until Hadrian had come along and even then his people never fully submitted to the Romans. Still his land had changed. Villas replaced the wattle and daub huts, Jupiter and Mars replaced his old gods and some of his people had chosen to accept this new way of life. Hell, some of them had even aided the Romans in their oppression of him! That betrayal still stung long after Americas had faded away.
It had been a test of endurance, In order to save his people he had let Rome rule him, all the time waiting for a chance to strike back. His brother; Caledonia (now Scotland) was safe north and had been able to keep the Romans from taking control of the whole Island. He'd always be proud of his brother for that. Arthur had been separated from his brothers for years and it would be a lie to say that he didn't miss them, even though they drove him crazy. Wales had had more independence, though he'd still been oppressed, then he'd had and they'd never gotten to Ireland. No only he was made a slave. Only he. To be honest, when he'd seen some of the benefits of being a part of the Roman empire he had accepted his fate, and decided to take all the good things that would come of it.
Then there came Anglesey. The island of the druids. Rome had feared his druids, because they could unite his people. The Celts may have squabbled amongst themselves a lot but they all revered the power of the druids. Rome would brook no opponent or threat of an uprising. 60 AD...the Roman army had arrived on the island and slaughtered all the druids and destroyed the sacred groves. Legions of soldiers against a small group of unarmed spiritual men. It hadn't been a battle, it had been a massacre. The water bottle in his hand groaned from the amount of pressure he was exerting on it.
The bastard had made a mistake though. The death of the druids hadn't stopped an uprising it had started one. Boadicea. His first queen. Funny how most of his best leaders had been women. She had been awe inspiring and full of vengeance. Her inheritance gone and her two young daughters raped by Roman soldiers she would drive them form his shores or die trying. He could still remember meeting her for the first time.
He crawled out of the bushes and watched the woman standing on the chariot. Her red hair cascaded down her back and her voice carried over the crowd that had gathered. She spoke of violence, oppression and revenge, revenge against the ones who had oppressed them and betrayed them. His blood had stirred at her speech. Could she be the one? The one who would free them. Her speech over she stepped down and spoke to one of the men. He moved closer, hoping to get a better view of her when he'd stumbled and fallen on the ground. Her head snapped up at the sound and she approached him with a wary gaze.
He peeked up at her from behind his hair. She was an intimidating figure. Her eyes raked over him and he stood up straight. The white robe he wore clearly confused her because he looked far too young to be a druid.
"Who are you?" Her voice was clipped and her hand rested over the sword on her waist. Who was he? A country, a slave or an idea? He opened his mouth.
"I am the one you wish to free." Her eyes and widened in understanding and she let her hand drop from the sword. He eyed her up and down. "Can you free me?" Fire flickered in her gaze and slowly she drew out her blade.
"I swear it." He nodded and took her hand in his small one. He would trust her. His warrior queen.
His people had risen up. The Romans had not been good masters. His people toiled in the fields, suffered hunger, famine and poverty whilst Rome's people lived in luxury. It wasn't right. Her army had been great. They had overcome many towns and he had felt the shackles on his wrists begin to loosen, tasted freedom. But it was not to last.
He'd underestimated Rome's army. The numbers had been on his side: twenty of his warriors to one of Rome's. Yet he'd lost. His army decimated. His queen had killed herself and his people would suffer even more. After that there was no hope. No-one else would rise up. But there was a change. He'd cried over her death and for his people and he'd made a vow. He swore to never let himself be conquered again, to never give up, to fight until the end. For them, his people. He would resign himself to his role as a conquered nation, but when he was free, and one day he would be, no-one would ever take him again. Rome would be the last nation to have power over Britannia.
So he'd endured centuries of occupation, waiting for the day when Rome would weaken and he could rise up. It had happened and he had got back his freedom. He took another swig of water. He'd kept his vow. No other country could ever say that they'd conquered him. Denmark had tried once but he'd only managed a portion of his land.
Time and time again he'd fought off those who would try and take away his independence, his freedom and each time he fought back. They never got him. France, Germany, Spain and others had all tried and failed. Only Rome had ever owned him and to England once was enough. He may not be a big country; he was only half and island, he wasn't the richest or the most successful but he was free, and that was enough to him. He supposed he had one thing to thank Rome for and he raised his water in a mock salute. The man had shown him what oppression tasted of and he refused to swallow it again.
"Hey England, you coming back?" He turned to see Belgium at the door. He nodded and headed back to the meeting. If he could endure Roman occupation then he could endure this.
AN: Lame ending I know, and maybe a little too full of history so sorry if it bored any of you. I'm studying the Roman occupation of Britain for school and I'm a big fan of Hetalia so I decided to combine the two. Sorry if I failed. I've tried to keep it historically accurate, as much as my knowledge will allow though please note I have tweaked events, big thank you to Jamaica-tan for pointing out that there were other invasions of Britain including the Normans and the Vikings. To any of you who are still reading this please review. Thanks for reading.