Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

A/N: Slightly historical...

His duty for the Teutonic Knights was to protect the Holy Land. Just how was he supposed to know where to look for it? Sometimes its the one place you least expect it to be...

He, the awesome Prussia, was going to the Holy Land!

He was going to make sure those 'pagans' were defeated and sent straight to hell!

The Knights told him to meet them in Acre. God would bless him with good travel so he may help his fellow knights in battle.

For he was the great Prussia...he will not be defeated!

Yet, here he was, lost somewhere between Hungry's house and some strange place. Just where was this Holy Land? He had the map that one of the Knight's given him. He was giving directions by some shepherd. Now there was poor Prussia...poor Gilbert...lost somewhere on his way to the Holy Land.

He curses lowly to himself, wondering if he didn't say enough prays before leaving. Wasn't his destiny to be in the Holy Land, in the Crusades, fighting off those pagan heathens who had taken Jerusalem for themselves?

Somewhere Hungry was probably mocking him for getting lost.

It was until sun down that he was staggering across the savannah. A figured in a hooded cloak is approaching him. His hand goes to his sword ready to attacked when he falls over. He was a Teutonic Knight! He was not-Oh well he would not fall over from exhaustion and-

The hooded figure approached his fallen form.

"Easy," a voice breathes from the mouth of the hooded stranger before water is lifted into his mouth, "you are a knight. I do not believe your comrades would want you to die out here in the wilderness."

The mantle of white with the black cross is over his chest. The figured knew the cloak of the Teutonic Knight very well.

"I'm not going to die," Prussia wheezes, "the awesomeness that is me cannot die."

"And you will not. Tell me...where are you suppose to be heading?'

A sharp dagger is pressed against the stranger's throat. Prussia gives a creepy smile. He wasn't a fool to think that one of those heathens was going to get the better of him.

"I'm looking for the Holy Land, you heathen. Don't think I don't know what your kind look like."

"Oh," The voice changes before sounding cold. Prussia quickly found himself disarm. A hit to the jaw knocks him backwards before the stranger gives him a kick to the side. Prussia gets back up, freeing his sword.

"You have no idea how many times I heard that. You have no clue on what my kind really look like, knight! My kind have been scattered across the globe since Rome decided it was best for them." The voice was beautiful yet frightening. It sounded similar to the dialect that the shepherd had.

"I am not your enemy, knight. I am one of God's chosen. But you're too blinded to see the difference between me and those who hold my beloved city in their clutches."

"Your...your city? But that is Jerusalem...the holy city of-"

"Who do you think I am, Christian knight?" The hood is removed to reveal long ebony hair that flowed down in waves. Prussia just stood there, in awe of the man that became a beauty in an instant. The one thing that had him shaking was the pair of aquamarine eyes. Never really green or blue but of the sky or of the ocean. He couldn't decide which. Her golden skin glisten off the sun with her hair shining. He noticed she wore similar clothing to that of the other Islam nations.

But there was something different.

She stands before him, "my city...it has always been my city...until one day it was taken from me."

"F-from you? But that would mean-" Prussia stops talking. The stories that he was told...the words...the places...the names...everything that was written in God's Holy Word. He staggered to his feet before falling down on one knee. His sword's point is place in the dirt.

"My lady...forgive me..."

"I'll forgive you when your people stop killing mine. Remember once, dear Christian, we were one in the same in Rome's coliseum pits. Acre is just that way...keep walking and don't stop. You'll be with your damn comrades soon."

With that, she leaves him in the dust.

Prussia couldn't move as the figure in the cloak disappeared into the wilderness.

He had glimpse upon the Holy Land...

They were right about her.

She was beautiful.