MW: Well that was fun. I actually had this done about two weeks ago, but I'm just now getting around to putting this up. This chapter is way longer than I would normally write, but I wanted to introduce the plot real soon. Hopefully, you'll all enjoy :)
EDIT: Actually, this shorter than what I usually write. And I can tell you officially that the plot really picks up at chapter 4ish and these first three chapters are kind of just the exposition to the plot. I'll eventually get around to editing chapters 2-3, but until then, just bear with me.
Chapter Summary: In which Annie goes from being a POW to a maid.
Warnings: Violence, Language, Sarcasm.
Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia
From Today Onward, You Are a Maid!
August 19, 1927
13 years ago
The memory I treasured the most took place on my eighth birthday. It was a family event, just my Mom, Dad, older brother, and I. My brother, David, had made a blanket fort in the living room and we all huddled in there, listening to a story my father read from a small, leather bound book. The story was about a monster. Not like the ones who live under the bed- different. "These Monsters looked like human beings," my father read. "They didn't age or die, and they bore a hatred towards the human race. They believed them to be naive. During the night they would enter the hearts of unknowing people and poison them into doing their bidding."
David didn't flinch at the story, believing himself to be above such childish tales. I, however, shook in fear until the hero, a little boy, defeated their leader, another Monster who appeared to be a boy his age. "But how?" I had asked.
My fathered shrugged. "It doesn't say."
Mom, a beautiful Italian with the curliest of brown locks, yawned. "Now let's not be fretting over make-believe monsters," she said. "Come along now, it's time for bed."
"Can we sleep in here?" David asked, gaining excitement at the very thought of it.
She smiled. "Oh alright," she gave in. "Just let me grab you your pillows."
It wasn't until we could hear her soft steps going up the stairs and to our rooms did my father lean in and whisper, "I need you two to promise me something."
David and I nodded, intrigued.
"Despite what your mother may say, those Monsters are real. Even though you cannot see them, they are everywhere around us. Promise me that you will help me defeat them when you grow older."
We nodded; anything to please Dad; he then kissed my forehead and handed me the book. "Good night, Annie."
I would like to say that it was that simple little book that was the root of it all. But it really wasn't. In truth, the days of my childhood was just the sorting of the puzzle pieces: red ones in that pile, blue in the other. It wasn't until small hands started to piece them together did the exposition end and the picture started to form.
That day was the day I saw a sleeping Feliciano Vargas in the woods.
November 15, 1941
I was literally running for my life. My feet moved on their own accord through the pitch black woods of northern Italy. A few days ago (when fleeing through enemy territory, one does not have the need to keep track of exactly how many) I had escaped from a POW camp. But before that I was on a mission assigned by Dad.
Dad is the CEO of a profitable oil company called 'Society Oil Works'. On the outside, he's a charitable man always smiling in his joyful British way. But that was only the outside. My family, the Hensons, work to rid the world of those fairy tale Monsters of long ago. Quiet often, I didn't associate myself with his plight, but this mission was special.
My job was to follow a lead in German-occupied France. I was doing great until my disguise as a British solider became way too convincing, which resulted in me being thrown into a POW camp. In a way, I really did deserve it.
And now I was about to be recaptured. "It's just my luck," I thought bitterly, running further away from the soldier sent to capture me once again. It was hard to run- I was tired and the haft moon gave little light to my way. I was constantly tripping over roots and running into trees.
That's when an idea hit me.
Quickly, I scouted out a climbable tree. Seeing one close by, I swooped down and grabbed a random rock off the ground. I climbed the pine tree and waited for my persuaders to arrive. Sure enough, they came, searching the horizon with their flashlights.
Quietly, I threw the rock in the opposite direction. "Drüben!" One called as the whole search party dashed off towards the noise, believing it to be me. I waited a few seconds before jumping down and dashing off myself.
I ran for a little longer, half a mile at most, before coming upon a creek. The song of the trickling water made me realize how parched my throat and lips were. "Surely a quick break wouldn't hurt," I reasoned, kneeling down to the water. As I was about to find out, it was a big mistake on my part.
The air was silent and pitch black. I could barely see the sandy shore at the other side, much less my reflection, but for the story's sake, I will tell you it anyways. I have fair skin, an even mixture between my English and Italian decent, with wide blue eyes. My hair was also brown but it was cut to a boy's length. Height wise, I'm about 5' 3". I sighed and splashed some water into my face, washing away the mud and blood from days on the run.
My eyes shot up. I was a deer in the headlights, awaiting my pending death. For a second, the only sound was my panting, but then there was a crackle of broken leaves . . . on the other side of the brook.
I slowly stood, making out the outline of something on the ground. Cautiously, I started to make my way across the water. "I have nothing to lose," I thought. "They'll either shoot or recapture me anyways." I truthfully preferred the latter.
"Vee~!" The sound was definitely in front of me. I silently stepped out of the creek and silently tip-toed my way to the lump. Or at least as silent as some can be when moving about in moving water.
This lump was actually a sleeping man. He looked to be about 20 in age with short brown hair that had one defiant curl. Every few seconds, he'd make a
"Vee~!" sound, most likely his equivalent to a snore.
"What kind of person sleeps in the middle of the forest?" I asked myself, bending down to get a better look. "So who are you?" I muttered. The stranger was wearing what looked to be a blue uniform. I gasped and stumbled back. An Italian military uniform. Shit.
First instinct: take his hand gun.
I did that in an instant, slipping his fully loaded pistol out of his holster.
Second instinct: shoot him.
I raised the gun, ready to put my life first, but . . .
I cursed my amazingly good heart (yeah right) and kicked the sleeper hard in the stomach. In my twist train of thought, I reasoned that it would had been holier of I killed the man while he was awake, for then at least he could take my image and give it to the devil when he saw him. "Wake up!" I ordered, aiming straight for his head... "It'll be dirty if I-"
"OW~!" the sleeper wailed, curling up in pain. His voice was childish and thick with an Italian accent. "GERMANY~!"
I backed away, confused. "Who the bloody hell is-" I didn't get a chance to finish my question, mostly since a robust blond kicked me hard in the back. I dropped my gun and fell onto my stomach. His heavy military boot pinning my down to the ground.
"Italy, are you okay?" he asked in some form of Italian. Must be the thick German accent mixed with his deep, gruff voice.
"Germany~!" the Italian cried, bear hugging him and, at the same time, pinning his arms at his side.
I seized the opportunity. In his moment of touching reunions, I struggled my way out from under his boots. That guy must be strong, since it felt as though one of my ribs were cracked. I saw the gun laying a few feet away from me. I wasted no time crawling towards it. Just as my finger tips brushed the butt, the blade of a katana barely scraped the tip of my nose.
An Asian man, about 35, looked down at me with a blank expression. "Don't do that," he stated in English. He also had an underlying accent.
"Why you-" I snarled, trying to sit up, but once again discovered my seemingly cracked rib. I gasped in pain.
As if my day (night actually) couldn't get any worst, the soldiers that I had so cleverly tricked earlier came bursting through the bushes. "Kommandant
Ludwig!" they saluted. "Hail Hitler!"
"Hail Hitler," Ludwig, previously known as Germany, saluted in an unenthusiastic tone. "Was ist das Private?"
"Kommandant," one of them barked. "Wir nehmen zur Kenntnis, dass Sie die entflohenen Gefangenen erfasst." In case any of you were wondering, I have no idea what the they just said, being that it was in German and that I can barely ask for the bathroom in German. However, I am completely fluent in
English and Italian. My excuse: I descend from both nationalities and lived many years in each, so why not?
Ludwig looked at them. "Ausbrecher?" He looked at me. "Lassen Sie mich sehen, dass Taschenlampe."
The German knelt to my height and (still with the clinging Italian) shinned the light into my face. I just shut my eyes in time. Right now wasn't the time to be temporarily blind. Suddenly, Ludwig grabbed my hair and lifted my face closer to his, "Nun, was Sie wissen! Es ist ihm," he exclaimed, letting me go. "Private, Handschellen ihn und bringen ihn zurück in die gestapo."
I may not know any German, but I did know what the 'gestapo' was. As the private hand-cuffed my hands behind my back, I made the decision that dying would be a lot better than a chat with the notorious people killer. I was lifted to my feet and led away. However, I decided to throw caution to the wind and do whatever the heck I wanted and, if I was lucky, they would shoot me.
I kicked one of the privates where it mattered and rammed my shoulder into another. Semi-free, I started a mad dash into the woods when the hilt of an all too familiar katana made contact with the back of my head.
"Damnit," I muttered, feeling my consciousness leave me. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, out cold before I hit the dirt.
I struggled in my chair, trying my hardest to break free. The holding room was dimly lit with white-washed walls and concert floors. If you looked hard enough, you could see the faded stains of blood, no doubt from past interrogations. There was a single steel door that was most likely bolted shut. A few windows, each no bigger than my foot and were placed a foot away from the ceiling. Overall, it was a very intimidating atmosphere.
Even though the room was pretty much escape proof, I was handcuffed to a metal chair. I had woken up to find myself like this. Overkill, right? I had no idea where I was, or even what day it was. For all I knew, the gestapo was going to kill me in a few minutes, which in my case was highly probable.
Great . . .
My head shot up as the door was unbolted and in strode a lanky German, one I had never seen before. Bolting the door behind him, he gave a smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Hello prisoners," he said in English. "Name is Commander Baum."
Jeez, even his English was awful. I didn't let him see my disgust; instead I just glared at him.
"What your name is, herr?" Herr Lanky (like the nick name?) asked.
Nothing. I was trying to decipher what he had said.
"Herr. What your name is?" he repeated. I finally figured out what he meant, and blinked. Basic German lesson: 'Herr' meant 'Sir'. That meant he thought that I was a boy! I smirked, trying not to laugh.
The smirk didn't play well with him. He spat in my face and knocked me to the ground, followed by a boot to the face.
"What your name is?"
You know the saying that it's only funny until someone gets hurt? That was actually was true this time, mostly since the one getting hurt was me. For the better of my future health, I decided to tell him the truth. "Annabel." I finally spat. The German psychically stepped back, more aware that I had a girl's voice now that I had finally said my name. "My name is Annabel Milano Henson." Yes, my middle name is a goofy Italian city. Don't judge me; it was my Mom's fault.
Herr Lanky walked- actually sprinted -out of the room, leaving poor old me on the ground.
It was silent for a few minutes, giving me enough time to note how oddly comfortable the ground was. But soon enough, the peace was broken.
"HE'S A WHAT?" An all too familiar voice yelled. Opening the door with a thud, Commander Ludwig stormed in. He was furious, his white skin tomato shade of red. Grabbing me by my shirt collar, he lifted me into the air so that I was eye to eye with him. I was more impress with the strength on my shirt than the German's. It's not every day a shirt could carry the weight of a 21 year old woman handcuffed to a metal chair.
"You're a girl?" Ludwig demanded, blue eyes glaring at me. His English being the best yet.
Although I was impressed, I was still at his mercy. Against my better judgment, I figured that it probably wouldn't hurt to be a smart ass to him. "Obviously,"
I stated, as if it was no big deal.
"Why you little-" He raised a fist to punch me, but stopped himself. "-why should I believe you?"
Wow, this guy was stubborn to a fault. A little more sass wouldn't hurt him. "You have a clear view, just look for yourself." He continued to glare at me, confused. I rolled eyes and looked down. Catching my drift, he looked down my shirt. He blushed at the sight of my way too small breasts. Again, I blame my Mom.
Obviously pissed, he threw me, the chair and all, against the wall. I didn't know if the chair softened the blow at all. Either way, I didn't care- that freaking hurt!
"Ludwig-san, would you please contain yourself?" Sure enough, it was my favorite katana-wielding-master from before; sounding calmer than what I thought was possible. Hiding behind him was the lazy Italian that I had nearly killed, trembling in fear as his eyes darted between me and Ludwig.
"Why should I Kiku?" Ludwig snapped.
Kiku sighed. "Since she's a girl, she cannot go back to the camp." We both started at him, having not realized that ourselves. Prisoner of war camps were meant for soldiers and soldiers were supposed to be guys. Even though I had disguised myself as one, I had to admit that I was lucky to pull through with the masquerade at all. The main components to my success were the cigarettes I used to bribe guards and other soldiers and my already lacking figure.
It seemed as though they were at a loss, I ventured another comment. "Why don't you just let me go?" I suggested hopefully.
"Shut-up!" the German snapped, kicking me in the face again. That time my nose broke under the force of his boot. "The quick solution is to simply kill her.
We already have her on a charge for assaulting a government official."
"Excuse me, but you've been doing all the kicking here!" I snapped, trying to talk through the river of blood now leaking from my nose and spilling into my mouth. Ludwig looked ready to kick me again, but resisted, realizing that I was right.
He crossed his arms, saying, "That doesn't excuse the fact that you attacked Commander Vargas."
In disbelief: "You mean the little Italian right there?"
The Italian made a "Waa~!" sound before hiding further behind Kiku.
I sighed. I give up; this was just way too hopeless. This must have been God's punishment for cross dressing in foreign countries. "How about this: you just shoot me now and end my suffering."
Ludwig smiled and pulled out his gun. "Gladly."
Kiku panicked for a second before stepping between us. "Before we result to violence, may I suggest an alternative?" Ludwig and I were silent. "Annabel-san, was it?
"I prefer Annie," I interjected
He continued as if it I never said anything. "What do you want the most?"
That was an easy one. "To get out of this bloody German's grasp and back to England." Oh England, my second homeland, and the place I spent a quarter of my life at.
Kiku turned to the German. "And you, Ludwig-san, want punishment?"
"The how about this: Annie-san will work for us as our maid in exchange for an exit visa."
"What?" Ludwig and I cried in unison. We both shouted our objections.
Kiku sighed and, still in his calm voice, said, "Ludwig-san. Imagine all of the paper work we'll have to file if we shoot her. And what about the Allies? When they find out that we executed a girl, Alfred would no doubt turn this into one of his hero situations."
We were both silent, thinking this over. I highly doubted that the Nazi government would care if they killed off another woman. Even so, there was a look on Ludwig's face that showed that he hated the idea of the Allies getting their hands on this information.
I couldn't help myself but to ask, "Who's Alfred?"
I was ignored as Ludwig gave this some more thought. "This could work," Ludwig said. "We can keep her prisoner, away from all of the male soldiers and we get a free cleaning service." He nodded. "Fine, this does seem like the best way to go, but I'll only do it if Feli doesn't mind."
Feliciano Vargas thought it over for a second, before nodding himself. "Just as long as Ludwig promises to protect me."
"I always will."
That was sweet. I would've awed at the scene, but I did occurred to me that was just about to be forced into an equivalent of slavery. "Excuse me, but don't I get a say in this?" I asked.
"Why should you?" Ludwig asked. "You're benefiting the most from this."
I grimaced, trying to hide my anger. "Well I don't know about you, but I'd prefer not being a maid by day and a prostitute by night."
Ludwig laughed a cruel laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not even pretty enough to be married to a shit filled-"
Kiku slapped a handover the German's mouth. "Please excuse him," he apologized. "But I see your point. We'll have all the terms and conditions written out in a contract for all of us to sign."
I smiled. I was starting to really like this guy. "Agreed."
November 19, 1941
A few miles from Milan, Italy
Kiku Honda handed me the packet of papers. "And now all we need to do is sign it," he said triumphantly. We, as in Ludwig, Feli, Kiku, and I, were apparently driving to Feli's house on the outskirts of Milan (oh, the irony). It seems hard to believe that only yesterday; Ludwig was breaking my nose instead of driving us up to the officers' current location. "We also take residence in Germany and Japan," Kiku had explained.
And while we're still fresh on this topic, let's talk about my condition. My nose has been bandaged up; along with the countless cuts I had received during my chase. On a bright note, Ludwig didn't crack my rib when he stepped on me. The bad news was that I had a bruise the size of his foot on my back.
I was still in my dirty remains of a solider uniform, but I felt a lot better about my situation. We'd just spent the past hour or so agreeing to the terms of our contract. It contained the basic stuff, like how I couldn't carry a weapon, hurt my 'Bosses' (yes, I am entitled to call them that), and how I have to clean, run errands, and occasionally cook. On their side, they could only keep me for 5 years maximum, or until the war is over. They couldn't violate or hurt me either. They also had to supply me with food, room, and proper clothing. I also couldn't attack any of them unless it was out of self defense.
I quickly glanced over the document again. It was hard to see in the fading light; dusk was starting. "Everything here seems to be in order," I said, signing the paper. Ludwig made a huff
"Oh would you please get over it?" Kiku said, signing it himself. He handed the papers over to Feli, who then added his signature. Ludwig would have to sign it later.
"So Kiku," I said, shifting in my seat. "Why are three commanders, all having nationalities of the Axis, living together in a house?" What? You would be curious too!
Everyone raised an eyebrow. "You're quite observant," Kiku remarked. "But you might as well know. We three are commanders of a different sort. Our jobs are to know exactly all the politics in the country we represent and make on-the-spot decisions that benefit our respective country the most. Since our three countries are working so close in hand with each other, it would be pointless not to live together."
I nodded. "That makes sense," I said, letting the subject drop. Truthfully, there was still one thing that bugged me: Feli. The Italian didn't seem to be the type for politics. "There must be more to him then what meets the eye," I reasoned.
The car pulled up to a villa. It was surrounded by a brick wall, not a high one, one just high enough to make a point: it was private. Passing through the gates, I saw that the house itself was fairly big, made of white stucco and a red roof. It was much like my old house in southern Italy.
"Am I the only maid here?" I asked, noting the large size.
"Yeah, but don't worry. Ludwig is a clean freak," Feliciano said. I was shocked at the sound of his voice. That was the first time he had ever spoken directly to me.
We climbed out of the car, Feli saying something about making dinner. Ludwig was silent, as Kiku took my hand and began dragging me inside, saying something about getting a bath started for me.
The inside felt open, there being light colors like white and yellow on the walls and large windows everywhere. There wasn't much furniture, but there were a lot of pictures. For some reason it felt homely, inviting even. I was so distracted by this that I hadn't noticed Kiku dragging me up the stairs and to the second story. In fact, I hadn't noticed that the Japanese man was talking to me.
". . . sweet guy, a little lazy at times, but sweet." Kiku was saying. I could only presume that he meant Feli. "However, he's very afraid of you, so do try to be nice to him." I sighed. "I'm just trying to say that these westerners are strange, but they mean well. If anyone, be nice to Feli."
I didn't get the chance to reply, as we had finally come to the bathroom. Kiku pointed out where the towels were and such. "We'll bring you something to wear in a few minutes. And after dinner, I'll show you where you'll be staying."
I muttered a thank you and kicked him out of the room, locking the door behind me. As I undressed, I noted a small window on the wall. Many of you would say that I could just climb out of the window right now and be on my merry way, but Ludwig had forwarded my picture to every solider at the borders, saying that if they find me without the proper paperwork, they'll be forced to shoot me. Yeah, I hate him too.
A bath ended up being the best thing for me. The hot water washed away days-worth of mud and blood. I stayed in there, enjoying the warmth, until the water itself was a brown color. There was a knock on the door as I was getting out. "I have a dress for you to wear," Ludwig called from behind the door.
"What is a house full of men doing with a dress?" I asked, drying myself off.
"I don't know!" Ludwig snapped. "Feli just had it and wants you to wear it!"
I really don't like dresses. I gained a hatred for them in my teen years when I would wear my brothers old clothes and go brawl with the other guys on the streets for money (don't ask). Compared to pants, dresses just didn't cut it. There was also this one time when I wore this dress . . . . Now I was just getting ahead of myself.
"I'm leaving it outside the door," Ludwig stated. "Now hurry up! Dinner's ready."
I didn't have to wear the dress. As dirty as it was, my soldier's clothes were still good. But Feli did want me to wear it and getting him on my side wouldn't hurt. I sighed. I could already tell that this is going to suck.
MW: There will be some humor in the future as more countries are introduced (the allies will be here around chapter 4 or 5 ish) but I'm hoping that Annie's sarcastic, smart ass attitude will be sufficient. BTW, sorry for the abrupt ending, but it was from how I was originally planning on doing this, but I had scratched the idea and didn't feel like rewriting the whole dang thing.
EDIT: Actually, I can confirm an Allied filled story in chapter 4. I know I messed up with Kiku's Japanesse-ness (by calling Annie "Annabel-san") but I explained the mistake in chapter 9 (I think) so I'm not going to fix it.
Translations and Fun facts:
"From today onward..." Random Ouran reference.
"August 19..." Yes, we share a birthday :)
"Drüben" Over there! German.
"Was ist das Private?" What is it Private? German.
"Wir nehmen zur Kenntnis..." We note that you captured the prisoner. More German.
"Ausbrecher?..."Lassen Sie ..." Escapee? Let me see that flashlight. German.
"Nun, was Sie..." Well, what do you know! It is him! German~!
"Private, Handschellen ihn und..." Private, handcuff him and bring him back to the gestopo. At this rate, I should just learn German.
"Herr" Mister. German.
Next Chapter: Annie tells the Axis powers a little about her past and ends up finding out a little secret about them as well.
Questions, Comments, Criticism? Review! It'll make me happy, and reviewing will be the only way to get me to write the next chapter.