Part 1

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   Little Italy watches the men in wonder as the pick axes dig into the icy surface, spraying diamond-like shards that sparkle in the dull sunlight. A few men proceed to pull an ice block from the pond and slam it onto a cart. Italy scurries across the slippery surface to the hole, peering in wonder as he calls,
"PASTA! Pasta, are you in there!?" He leans in closer, nearly losing his footing and falling in.
Luckily, a man jerks him back by the coat collar and saves him.
"How many times do we have to tell you, kid!?" he shouts. "There is no pasta around here! We're mining for ice!"
He lets him go and little Italy falls onto his bottom. A little discouraged, he hangs his head and sighs. His reindeer comes to his side and nudges him. Believing it to be a comforting gesture, Italy smiles.
"It's okay, Romano. I'm not going to give up! Grandpa Rome told me legends of the great pasta mines, and I won't stop until I find them!"
But in actuality, Romano says:
"Get up you stupid idiot and kick that guys ***! Then take me home, we're going to freeze out here you ******* moron!"
...
In a warm castle, a little prince creeps over to his brother's bed side.
"Prussia!" he whispers, shaking him. "Prussia! Wake up!" The boy climbs onto the bed.
"Go back to sleep, Holy Rome," he shoves him off.
Holy Rome gets up and proceeds to jump on his brother, causing him to shoot up in pain.
"I can't sleep. Let's go play!"
Prussia restrains the urge to punch him and smirks a little. How can he ever refuse a chance to show off his awesomeness?
Holy Rome races Prussia down the stairs, both giggling. As soon as they reach the ballroom, Holy Rome begins chanting, "Do the awesomeness! Do the awesomeness!"
"Alright, here it goes!" Prussia holds out his hands and forms a little swirl of ice crystals. He throws it up into the air. It explodes like fireworks, turning the entire place into an ice-cavern.
They laugh as it begins snowing and the floor freezes into an skating rink. They play for nearly an hour, sliding about the floor, having snowball fights, even making a snowman. But things get bad fast.
"It's no fair! You have powers, I don't!"
"It's not my fault your snow fort wasn't awesome enough to withstand my awesomeness!"
"Yes it is! And I can't even get revenge because you made yours eleven feet tall!"
"Why don't you just admit defeat!?"
And this goes on until Holy Rome gets hit with a magic glowing ice ball thing.
"Oh crap..." Prussia mutters, abandoning his fort to check on his little brother. "Holy Rome...? Holy Rome!"
He doesn't respond.
Suddenly, Germania bursts into the room angrily.
"What is all this noise!?"
"Vati, I'm sorry," Prussia cries as he picks up Holy Rome's body. "I didn't mean to—"
"He's as cold as ice!" he turns to Prussia. "Come on, we have to go. Now!"
...
Germania rides off on his horse, Prussia clinging to his back and Holy Rome in his arms. A trail of ice is left behind them.
Italy happens to be walking down the trail and sees them. He inspects the ice for a moment with his reindeer, then gasps.
"It must be the magical tomato fairy, leading the path to Pasta Land! Come on, Romano!" He hops onto his back and follows them.
Ahead, the horse stops as the king dismounts at a jagged hill dotted with boulders, calling out into the wilderness that surrounds him. Suddenly, the rocks come to life as trolls!
Italy watches the scene in awe behind a log. Suddenly, he feels a cold hand on his shoulder.
"Ohohohon~ you're a couple of cute little boys! I think I'll keep you!"
...
"What happened here?" a troll with bushy eyebrows asks as he approaches Germania.
"I hit him with magic..." Prussia sniffles through tears.
"Oh great. Just what we need. A brat like you with powers," England sighs.
"I'll deal with him later," Germania growls. "Just please heal my son."
"Alright, but I'm afraid I'll have to erase his memories of your powers."
"What!?" Prussia cries. "He won't remember how awesome I am!?"
"No."
Prussia looks down.
"For his life," Germania says. "Do it. Do whatever you have to do."
England waves his hand over Holy Rome's head. "There. It is done now. As for you, Prussia," he looks at the white-haired child. "You must learn how to contain your 'awesomeness.'"
"But I can't... it just... happens."
"Don't you understand how dangerous your power is!? You nearly killed your brother!"
"We'll lock him away," Germania says. "Until he can learn, he will have limited contact with everyone. We'll close the castle gates. He'll learn how to control it with these measures, surely."
A troll with a little curl speaks up. "You know locking him away in his room like that and making him fear his power is just probably going to traumatize him and make it worse..."
"Why is that rock talking?" Germania asks.
"I'm not sure, it does that a lot..." England mumbles.
"I'm Canada!" the rock cries in the background.
"Oh well, whatever," England shrugs. "Just go ahead and eternally ground your son. I don't see anything wrong with the plan."
...  


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