[Fanfic] Silver
May. 14th, 2010 04:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
berseker... I need a Sebby icon orz
Title: Silver
Characters: Uruguay. And also Brazil, Uruguay, Portugal, Spain and Argentina.
Pairing(s): Gen.
Rating/Warnings: Headache-inducing history.
Summary: His first name was Colonia del Sacramento, and the one who gave him this name was Portugal. then he belonged to Spain too, and then there was a war and they changed their minds and he went back to Portugal, and then-
Note: So, I decided to write about Luci's wars. To do that, I need to write a little about Sebby's history. And to do that we will all need some aspirins and a lot of patience, because boy talk about convoluted. And I thought Argentina was complicated.
So, anyway. Consider this a set-up to a series .
His first name was Colonia del Sacramento, and the one who gave him this name was Portugal. But Montevideo, that was part of him in ways that nobody really understood, because the Empires were dumb and the whole being a colony thing made him confused, but it was, he felt it as his and that was the end of it, according to Brazil, and Rio de La Plata too, and they never agreed about anything so when they did Sacramento – and that name was a bit weird, he thought, but okay- thought they were probably right.
So Montevideo was his.
Except it wasn't, it was Spain's, and he belonged to Portugal, only not, because there was a huge fight and then he belonged to Spain too, and in the beginning he thought it would be better because he was often very lonely when he was living with Brazil, because that place was huge, bigger than everything else, even Rio de la Plata, and almost as rich because he had sugar, even if he didn't have silver or gold or any precious thing, but the sugar and mate and plants made up for it. At least according to him. Portugal thought a little different, but Sacramento didn't care about that and he always tried to change the subject when it came up because it made Brazil sad.
It made Rio de la Plata sad too, come to think about it, but that was only because Peru had more silver and gold than anyone else and Spain was always there and Portugal was always trying to find a way to get there too and steal stuff. Sacramento didn't care about that. He cared about the fact that Brazil was always away, because he had to go to the coast to check on something and to the north to see the sugar, or maybe that was in the Northeast, but he knew there was something in the north so so there, and anyway that meant he was gone for days, and weeks, and sometimes even years because everything was too far away.
And he had nothing to do, here, nothing but watch the trading and traffic and be bored out of his skull. And also be really angry at Spain and Portugal and everyone in the world because they were always screaming at each other and being a pain and when he was here he couldn't see Rio da Prata unless Portugal was with him, and when he was there he couldn't see Brazil, ever, and nobody ever asked him anything.
So, anyway, there was that war and he went back to live with Spain, and that was weird, because he had thought Spain had forgot all about him, by now. Spain had lots of colonies. And Sacramento, who was now called Banda Oriental, wasn't sure he was one of them, because he was something different, what with being divided from the start and being partly just a military fort and not having silver and gold at all. Spain didn't care much anyway and neither did Portugal, they only used him to trade stuff and so did Brazil and Rio da Prata when they wanted to trade without telling the empires, even if he thought Portugal probably knew about it. But still.
Spain was dumb.
And so was everyone.
At least Rio da Prata (Rio de La Plata, he said, and he sulked for a few days because Sacram- Banda Oriental, that, he needed to get used to it now, was talking in Portuguese and he kinda apologized only not really, because Rio de La Plata sulked a lot for every silly thing that happened) was pleased to see him, so there was that. But then Portugal changed his mind and came back to get him, because he figured out he kinda needed one of his rivers to go on with his plan to steal Spain's colonies.
At least that was what Spain told him. And Rio de La Plata seemed to agree, even if he was kinda angry at Spain now, and it made sense, but still. And after that he gave him back again and after that Spain said he would have to go back to Portugal and he didn't even explained him why, and Rio de la Prata was really mad about it but Spain didn't mind and Sacramento/Montevideo/Banda Oriental//Whatever They Were Calling Him Now was really silent when Portugal came to get him.
He walked by his side without saying anything. And staring at the floor. And pouting. And Portugal must have noticed something wasn't right, because he picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. And even when they entered the carriage he kept him on his lap and petted his hair and his back and this was making everything worse, because it made him feel like crying and he didn't want to cry in front of Portugal, of all people, so he closed his eyes and rested his head on Portugal's shoulder and tried to sleep.
The house was empty, when they arrived, but it was always empty, and he was sure Portugal wasn't going to stay for too long, he had to go see the stupid river that was the reason for all this mess and then he had to go sell stuff to Buenos Aires, and check the silver mines and steal horses or whatever it was that he did when he was here, and Banda Oriental – that was, by the way, a really stupid name – went to his bedroom to sulk for the next century. His bedroom was still the same, and it was clean, too, and that was nice, because it meant at least someone had been expecting him, sort of, even if Brazil wasn't even there when he arrived.
But he came later, and that was surprising, because it usually took him days so maybe he had been close and maybe that was because he wanted to see him and had came from Rio de Janeiro or whatever as soon as he heard it and that made Banda Oriental perk up, a little, but he wasn't willing to show it yet, so he pulled the covers over his head and pretended to be asleep in a way that made it obvious that he was pretending, because if Brazil actually believed him and decided to go away he was going to break something.
But Brazil didn't fall for it and sat by his side, and pulled back his covers, and Banda Oriental closed his eyes a little tighter.
Brazil touched his hair, pulling it lightly, and then he said:
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes.”
He wasn't, really, he was mad at everyone else. But Brazil was the only one here, so he tried to be mad at him. Because he opened his eyes and now Brazil looked like a kicked puppy now, and Banda Oriental didn't pout because he made a point of not to because he wasn't a baby, at least in front of him and Rio de La Plata, and also it was unfair because he was the one being treated like a thing here, so he said:
“Why do they keep doing this to me?”
“... because everyone wants you?”
“Ok then, why does everyone want me? I don't want to change homes all the time!”
Brazil was kinda pouting now. Banda Oriental felt vaguely triumphant at that.
“Well... it's weird, but... it's 'cause of England, too. I think.”
“... England?”
He had seen some of his boats around. But he had never stopped to think about it.
“Yes, he and Spain hate each other, and... don't tell anyone I told you this, but-” and he lowered his voice, and looked at the door to make sure it was closed, and whispered, “Portugal does everything he says, and gives him a lot of money, too, so England helps him to get land. With all the treaties. Like the forest.”
“... what forest?”
Now he was whispering too. Brazil raised the covers and joined him under it.
Banda Oriental didn't mind. He was kinda expecting that.
“My forest, up in the north. Part of it was Spain's, and now most of it is mine, because England made everyone sign a treaty saying so, 'cause Portugal wanted it. And it's the same with you, when Spain is mad at England he tries to take you back because England wants Portugal to have you and then England makes him give you back and they can't make up their minds, 'cause they're really stupid. Both of them. And England too, I guess. And then there's the river, the river is pretty important.”
He could understand that. Even if it was frustrating. And, since it was dark and Brazil was here and they were still whispering under the covers and all, he said, in a very small voice:
“But Portugal is trying to get more land for you... and Spain keeps giving me away. And so does he, actually. Everyone sends me away.”
And he waited, not really sure Brazil would understand that, but Brazil bit his lip for a few seconds and then he blurted out:
“That's because he doesn't like me. Portugal, I mean.”
And this sounded big, like a huge thing that he had been thinking for a long time but had never told anyone before, and Banda Oriental widened his eyes and felt almost special for hearing it, but Brazil carried on:
“And Spain is really really dumb. He'll regret it, later, because you're- really nice. I like you. I wish you didn't have to go all the time.”
Banda Oriental smiled, then. A small, shy smile that he couldn't hold back, because, wow.
“I'm sure he likes you,” he said, in the most earnest way he could, “You're... really nice, too.”
“I'm not. He wants gold, so he keeps going after more land, he thinks he'll find it in other places that are not the coast. So he needs more and more. He's jealous, because Spain has silver and gold and he really wants it. “That's why he keeps going after the Spanish colonies, like Peru and the others and Buenos Aires.”
That made Banda Oriental's brain screech to a halt:
“... he'll try to take Rio da Prata? Really?”
“I don't know, sometimes he says things. And... I guess maybe England would help him...”
“Yeah, but-”
“They have powerful armies, you know. Well, England does. And Portugal is pretty good at fighting people weaker than him.”
There was something bitter in his voice now. Banda Oriental hurried to say:
“Still, it will be interesting to see, I mean. He's not... really easy to invade. ”
Not like him, anyway. And not like Brazil either, to be honest, but he wasn't going to say that. Brazil brightened up:
“Yes, it will. And I suppose Spain would help him, Rio da Prata, I mean, so there's that. I don't even know. I hope he kicks his ass.”
Later that night, when they were almost asleep, Banda Oriental asked if Brazil would like to have gold and silver on his lands.
“... I guess so,” Brazil said, slow and not completely awake, “Then he would like me, and I'd be important... and he wouldn't go away all the time, too. That would be nice.”
He was asleep after that, and Banda Oriental wasn't sure what to think of this. He wasn't sure he would like to have silver, either. It would be nice to be important, not just because he was close to some dumb river that was important for trading and nothing else, but because he was, well, important. Like Buenos Aires. Or maybe even Peru, if he had lots of gold too. But Rio da Prata owned Buenos Aires, even if sometimes it looked the other way around, and never looked happy – well, he wasn't really a happy person, Banda Oriental thought, so maybe he was having fun in his own way – and he didn't know about Peru. But. It would be nice, if he could just decide things. And he would have his own place, and then he'd decide who he wanted to see, and when, and people wouldn't just throw him back and forth like this.
Brazil made a small noise at his side, and he startled, then he felt guilty. Now he was here, and it was a little disloyal, that, thinking so much about going away. So he tried to stop.
Still. It would be nice, that. So he put his arm around Brazil because he had kinda missed him, a little, it had been a long time this time, and Brazil smiled in his sleep and nestled close to him. And then Banda Oriental closed his eyes too, and tried to sleep and dream about having his own house.
~*~
Ok, no notes, because I forgot my super awesome book in a different city, so... I'll add them later? Sadly, wiki is not as detailed about Sebby's early days, so they'll go from Sacramento to Banda in the 16-something to Banda Oriental in 1775 to Provincia Cisplatina in 1811. Since this fic happens before Cisplatina, I need that book. Or a different site. Meanwhile, I'll just say that Sebby will go back to Spain and then Port will move to Brazil, Luci will become a kingdom and they'll annex Sebby but this time it will be different, because they will be already talking about independence and then there's Artigas and stuff and that will be another chapter.
... well, I told you it was convoluted.
Title: Silver
Characters: Uruguay. And also Brazil, Uruguay, Portugal, Spain and Argentina.
Pairing(s): Gen.
Rating/Warnings: Headache-inducing history.
Summary: His first name was Colonia del Sacramento, and the one who gave him this name was Portugal. then he belonged to Spain too, and then there was a war and they changed their minds and he went back to Portugal, and then-
Note: So, I decided to write about Luci's wars. To do that, I need to write a little about Sebby's history. And to do that we will all need some aspirins and a lot of patience, because boy talk about convoluted. And I thought Argentina was complicated.
So, anyway. Consider this a set-up to a series .
His first name was Colonia del Sacramento, and the one who gave him this name was Portugal. But Montevideo, that was part of him in ways that nobody really understood, because the Empires were dumb and the whole being a colony thing made him confused, but it was, he felt it as his and that was the end of it, according to Brazil, and Rio de La Plata too, and they never agreed about anything so when they did Sacramento – and that name was a bit weird, he thought, but okay- thought they were probably right.
So Montevideo was his.
Except it wasn't, it was Spain's, and he belonged to Portugal, only not, because there was a huge fight and then he belonged to Spain too, and in the beginning he thought it would be better because he was often very lonely when he was living with Brazil, because that place was huge, bigger than everything else, even Rio de la Plata, and almost as rich because he had sugar, even if he didn't have silver or gold or any precious thing, but the sugar and mate and plants made up for it. At least according to him. Portugal thought a little different, but Sacramento didn't care about that and he always tried to change the subject when it came up because it made Brazil sad.
It made Rio de la Plata sad too, come to think about it, but that was only because Peru had more silver and gold than anyone else and Spain was always there and Portugal was always trying to find a way to get there too and steal stuff. Sacramento didn't care about that. He cared about the fact that Brazil was always away, because he had to go to the coast to check on something and to the north to see the sugar, or maybe that was in the Northeast, but he knew there was something in the north so so there, and anyway that meant he was gone for days, and weeks, and sometimes even years because everything was too far away.
And he had nothing to do, here, nothing but watch the trading and traffic and be bored out of his skull. And also be really angry at Spain and Portugal and everyone in the world because they were always screaming at each other and being a pain and when he was here he couldn't see Rio da Prata unless Portugal was with him, and when he was there he couldn't see Brazil, ever, and nobody ever asked him anything.
So, anyway, there was that war and he went back to live with Spain, and that was weird, because he had thought Spain had forgot all about him, by now. Spain had lots of colonies. And Sacramento, who was now called Banda Oriental, wasn't sure he was one of them, because he was something different, what with being divided from the start and being partly just a military fort and not having silver and gold at all. Spain didn't care much anyway and neither did Portugal, they only used him to trade stuff and so did Brazil and Rio da Prata when they wanted to trade without telling the empires, even if he thought Portugal probably knew about it. But still.
Spain was dumb.
And so was everyone.
At least Rio da Prata (Rio de La Plata, he said, and he sulked for a few days because Sacram- Banda Oriental, that, he needed to get used to it now, was talking in Portuguese and he kinda apologized only not really, because Rio de La Plata sulked a lot for every silly thing that happened) was pleased to see him, so there was that. But then Portugal changed his mind and came back to get him, because he figured out he kinda needed one of his rivers to go on with his plan to steal Spain's colonies.
At least that was what Spain told him. And Rio de La Plata seemed to agree, even if he was kinda angry at Spain now, and it made sense, but still. And after that he gave him back again and after that Spain said he would have to go back to Portugal and he didn't even explained him why, and Rio de la Prata was really mad about it but Spain didn't mind and Sacramento/Montevideo/Banda Oriental//Whatever They Were Calling Him Now was really silent when Portugal came to get him.
He walked by his side without saying anything. And staring at the floor. And pouting. And Portugal must have noticed something wasn't right, because he picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. And even when they entered the carriage he kept him on his lap and petted his hair and his back and this was making everything worse, because it made him feel like crying and he didn't want to cry in front of Portugal, of all people, so he closed his eyes and rested his head on Portugal's shoulder and tried to sleep.
The house was empty, when they arrived, but it was always empty, and he was sure Portugal wasn't going to stay for too long, he had to go see the stupid river that was the reason for all this mess and then he had to go sell stuff to Buenos Aires, and check the silver mines and steal horses or whatever it was that he did when he was here, and Banda Oriental – that was, by the way, a really stupid name – went to his bedroom to sulk for the next century. His bedroom was still the same, and it was clean, too, and that was nice, because it meant at least someone had been expecting him, sort of, even if Brazil wasn't even there when he arrived.
But he came later, and that was surprising, because it usually took him days so maybe he had been close and maybe that was because he wanted to see him and had came from Rio de Janeiro or whatever as soon as he heard it and that made Banda Oriental perk up, a little, but he wasn't willing to show it yet, so he pulled the covers over his head and pretended to be asleep in a way that made it obvious that he was pretending, because if Brazil actually believed him and decided to go away he was going to break something.
But Brazil didn't fall for it and sat by his side, and pulled back his covers, and Banda Oriental closed his eyes a little tighter.
Brazil touched his hair, pulling it lightly, and then he said:
“Are you mad at me?”
“Yes.”
He wasn't, really, he was mad at everyone else. But Brazil was the only one here, so he tried to be mad at him. Because he opened his eyes and now Brazil looked like a kicked puppy now, and Banda Oriental didn't pout because he made a point of not to because he wasn't a baby, at least in front of him and Rio de La Plata, and also it was unfair because he was the one being treated like a thing here, so he said:
“Why do they keep doing this to me?”
“... because everyone wants you?”
“Ok then, why does everyone want me? I don't want to change homes all the time!”
Brazil was kinda pouting now. Banda Oriental felt vaguely triumphant at that.
“Well... it's weird, but... it's 'cause of England, too. I think.”
“... England?”
He had seen some of his boats around. But he had never stopped to think about it.
“Yes, he and Spain hate each other, and... don't tell anyone I told you this, but-” and he lowered his voice, and looked at the door to make sure it was closed, and whispered, “Portugal does everything he says, and gives him a lot of money, too, so England helps him to get land. With all the treaties. Like the forest.”
“... what forest?”
Now he was whispering too. Brazil raised the covers and joined him under it.
Banda Oriental didn't mind. He was kinda expecting that.
“My forest, up in the north. Part of it was Spain's, and now most of it is mine, because England made everyone sign a treaty saying so, 'cause Portugal wanted it. And it's the same with you, when Spain is mad at England he tries to take you back because England wants Portugal to have you and then England makes him give you back and they can't make up their minds, 'cause they're really stupid. Both of them. And England too, I guess. And then there's the river, the river is pretty important.”
He could understand that. Even if it was frustrating. And, since it was dark and Brazil was here and they were still whispering under the covers and all, he said, in a very small voice:
“But Portugal is trying to get more land for you... and Spain keeps giving me away. And so does he, actually. Everyone sends me away.”
And he waited, not really sure Brazil would understand that, but Brazil bit his lip for a few seconds and then he blurted out:
“That's because he doesn't like me. Portugal, I mean.”
And this sounded big, like a huge thing that he had been thinking for a long time but had never told anyone before, and Banda Oriental widened his eyes and felt almost special for hearing it, but Brazil carried on:
“And Spain is really really dumb. He'll regret it, later, because you're- really nice. I like you. I wish you didn't have to go all the time.”
Banda Oriental smiled, then. A small, shy smile that he couldn't hold back, because, wow.
“I'm sure he likes you,” he said, in the most earnest way he could, “You're... really nice, too.”
“I'm not. He wants gold, so he keeps going after more land, he thinks he'll find it in other places that are not the coast. So he needs more and more. He's jealous, because Spain has silver and gold and he really wants it. “That's why he keeps going after the Spanish colonies, like Peru and the others and Buenos Aires.”
That made Banda Oriental's brain screech to a halt:
“... he'll try to take Rio da Prata? Really?”
“I don't know, sometimes he says things. And... I guess maybe England would help him...”
“Yeah, but-”
“They have powerful armies, you know. Well, England does. And Portugal is pretty good at fighting people weaker than him.”
There was something bitter in his voice now. Banda Oriental hurried to say:
“Still, it will be interesting to see, I mean. He's not... really easy to invade. ”
Not like him, anyway. And not like Brazil either, to be honest, but he wasn't going to say that. Brazil brightened up:
“Yes, it will. And I suppose Spain would help him, Rio da Prata, I mean, so there's that. I don't even know. I hope he kicks his ass.”
Later that night, when they were almost asleep, Banda Oriental asked if Brazil would like to have gold and silver on his lands.
“... I guess so,” Brazil said, slow and not completely awake, “Then he would like me, and I'd be important... and he wouldn't go away all the time, too. That would be nice.”
He was asleep after that, and Banda Oriental wasn't sure what to think of this. He wasn't sure he would like to have silver, either. It would be nice to be important, not just because he was close to some dumb river that was important for trading and nothing else, but because he was, well, important. Like Buenos Aires. Or maybe even Peru, if he had lots of gold too. But Rio da Prata owned Buenos Aires, even if sometimes it looked the other way around, and never looked happy – well, he wasn't really a happy person, Banda Oriental thought, so maybe he was having fun in his own way – and he didn't know about Peru. But. It would be nice, if he could just decide things. And he would have his own place, and then he'd decide who he wanted to see, and when, and people wouldn't just throw him back and forth like this.
Brazil made a small noise at his side, and he startled, then he felt guilty. Now he was here, and it was a little disloyal, that, thinking so much about going away. So he tried to stop.
Still. It would be nice, that. So he put his arm around Brazil because he had kinda missed him, a little, it had been a long time this time, and Brazil smiled in his sleep and nestled close to him. And then Banda Oriental closed his eyes too, and tried to sleep and dream about having his own house.
Ok, no notes, because I forgot my super awesome book in a different city, so... I'll add them later? Sadly, wiki is not as detailed about Sebby's early days, so they'll go from Sacramento to Banda in the 16-something to Banda Oriental in 1775 to Provincia Cisplatina in 1811. Since this fic happens before Cisplatina, I need that book. Or a different site. Meanwhile, I'll just say that Sebby will go back to Spain and then Port will move to Brazil, Luci will become a kingdom and they'll annex Sebby but this time it will be different, because they will be already talking about independence and then there's Artigas and stuff and that will be another chapter.
... well, I told you it was convoluted.
