Countryhumans Oneshots

The Little Empire's Crush

Requested by UshankaCat

He didn't have a name—not a country one. His father called him a "waste of space" and an "imposter," and his tad ignored him and pretended like he wasn't there. The former Colony of Santiago, now known as Jamaica, his father's new colony, had tried his best to fix that, but without knowing who he really was or what he was supposed to be, it didn't work out.

He thanked Jamacia anyway.

So, he preferred to go by his human name, William Fitzroy. His surname meant "son of the king," and it was William's attempt to garner support from his father. It was typically bestowed to bastard children, and William knew that well.

Even though he had a human name, he sometimes thought his father only knew of him as "the bastard."

It hurt.

But he has his ways of escaping (not that he was too welcome in his father's home or the palace).

The theater had always been his escape, a way to escape how terrible and horrific the real world was. It was a place where he could forget about the fact that he was a bastard and just indulge in something he loved, something that was there for him more than either of his parents were.

William had seen his particular performance many a time before. He came back, not for the story, but for the lead actor. The actor was talented and graceful, everything William wanted to be someday. His hair was golden, and his eyes a glimmering blue and—

William cut off his thoughts as he realized the path his thoughts were going down. No. Not again. Those sinful thoughts couldn't be back again.

He couldn't. He...he couldn't. He needed his father to love him. He needed to prove that he was good. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't indulge in sin.

William's hands felt clammy as he tried his best to focus on the rest of the performance. But it was hard when he had to avoid looking at the lead actor, the one who would tempt him into sin.

But William was a Holy Angel, a descendent of the Kingdom of England and the Principality of Wales. He was supposed to be Holy and pure, one of God's ambassadors to Earth. If he was tempted into sin, what would that say about the state of humanity, the state of his father's country?

William couldn't be tempted. He wouldn't.

When the performance was over, instead of going backstage to talk to the cast like he usually did, William was quick to leave, fleeing back home, trying to outpace his own thoughts.

This had to be a test, right?

God had to be testing him, doing something to prove to William's father that he was an angel like him, that he was supposed to be on earth, that he was good and Holy and just as pure as his father.

William broke off from his quick pace back home, instead searching for the nearest church. He needed to pray, to prove that he was not tempted, to prove that he was good.

Upon his arrival at the church, grateful to see that it was relatively empty, William hurried to sit in the back corner so no one could overhear him.

"Lord, please, I have not been tempted into sin. I have passed all the tests that you have given me and proven my worth as one of your angels. God, I beg of you now; please convey that to my father. Please show to him that I am not a sinful creature, a bastard, but a being such as him. Please help me show him that I am good," William prayed, hands clasped tightly in prayer.

He was good. He didn't give in to sin.

His father had to see that.