Title: Thorn Prince

Rating: T

Summary: AU; Not everything possesses a soul. Dolls are one of those things; they're meant to sit there quietly and look pretty. Antonio's little treasure refused to do either of those things. Spamano.

Pairings: Spamano, AmeCan, BelaLiech, AusHun, FrUK, GerIta, SuFin

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor Rozen Maiden, nor anything else mentioned.

A/N: I absolutely adore Spamano and I've always wanted to do a multi-chapter story for it, so...

Here we go!

Side Note: If you find any spelling mistakes, please inform me. Spell check isn't working for some reason, so I have to go by memory.

There once was a little shop tucked away in the downtown of a quiet town. The shop sold the most beautiful and unique dolls to ever exist. People who stepped inside were instantly mesmerized by how lifelike they seemed. Nearly every person that went in came out with a doll of their own in its own personal case.

The doll maker was a very kind man by the name of Himayura. He spent his days creating the most exquisite creations for all of his loyal customers. There were always the ones he had up for display that weren't for sale though. Those were the most beautiful dolls in the entire shop. Many people begged and begged to buy them, but were always denied. More and more were getting produced, lining the walls with their military-like uniforms, hair shining and eyes twinkling in the lights. Other doll makers had heard of his great skill and were quickly becoming jealous, cursing Himayura's talents. The man was well-aware of the people's anger directed towards him, but the smiles of the people that bought his creations were enough motivation for him to continue with his passion for it.

Then tragedy struck.

Himayura arrived back to his shop in the early morning hours to check on his precious babies and set everything up before he opened the doors to the shop, When he approached, he could already tell something was wrong. It was a sickening feeling, like he had been torn away from his life source. This feeling made his blood run cold and he dashed into the shop, throwing open the doors that he knew he hadn't left unlocked, and nearly screamed at the lack of his greatest creations lining his walls. They were gone. All of them. All of the beautiful dolls that he spent all his time and effort and love on were gone.

The man never did end up recovering his treasures and quickly lost his motivation to create any new wonders. The shop closed shortly after his loss and he disappeared. No one knew where he went to, no matter how hard they searched. The competition was overjoyed, to say the least. Now they could gain back their lost customers! It was a success and failure mixed into one. They did gain back their customers, plus more, but they were never truly awed or satisfied with their work. They always wanted the life-like quality of Himayura's work. Alas, they never could. They were stuck wondering where he was and if he would ever come back.

Pomodoro!

"What do you mean you took it from Elizaveta? Are you insane?" Francis demanded, staring at the albino like he was mad. Gilbert just snorted and rolled his eyes, waving the Frenchman off.

"Oh quiet Francey-pants, that tomboy didn't have anywhere to put them anymore anyway."

"Them?" he demanded, blue eyes widening as he realized his German (Prussian, as Gilbert always insisted) friend was implying that he took more than one.

"What? She said they were a double set. If one left, the other had to go with it." Gilbert replied nonchalantly, already used to the dramatics.

"Where in the world is the other one then?" Francis demanded because in all honesty, his curiosity was killing him, and from the look of the case was held in, it was bound to be beautiful. And if there were two, maybe his Spanish friend would allow him to take the other one...

"I gave it to West."

"You gave it to Ludwig?"

"Ja! Got a problem with it?"

"Why, in all that is beautiful, would you give it to him? He wouldn't even like things like this!"

"And you would?"

"Beauty deserves to be displayed, not hidden in a corner to collect dust!"

"It'll just end up sitting on your shelf, collecting dust anyway!"

"No it won't! It'll-"

"Guys!" A voice interrupted, causing both males to turn their heads to look at the source of the voice with annoyance. "Calm down. So what if Gilbert gave the other one to Ludwig? It isn't that big of a deal. Why did you want to give this one to me anyway?"

Gilbert took a second to compose himself after tauntingly sticking his tongue out at the Frenchman, looking back over at Antonio. "Because I don't know what Francis would end up doing with the thing. Plus you like Italian things, right? They said it was made in Italy."

Antonio let out a small "Ooooo," of excitement, reaching over to drag the box closer. He flashed a cheerful grin the silver-haired man's way, subconsciously clutching the case closer at the envious look thrown his way from the blond. Gilbert grinned victoriously and stretched out his tired limbs, pushing his body up from the floor slowly.

"Francis," he called, snorting at the hurt grumble he got in return. "Yo, Francey-pants, we gotta go. Isn't it time to go see your cousin or somethin'? I think we're already late." A shocked gasp was followed after his realization and the sound of someone scrambling around before a hurried "À bientôt!" and the slam of a door. Antonio was suddenly left in the silence of his apartment, smiling in amusement to himself. His friends were so odd!

His smile grew fonder before eventually falling into a curious expression as he studied the case in his arms, intrigued by the patterns curling around the entire thing. Emerald thorns snaked across the sides and curled around blooming roses, seemingly choking the poor flowers. Petals peeked over the vines and folded over them, the crimson vibrant against the snowy background. They crept up to the front of the case, curling and protecting a crowned heart in the center. Under the heart it was scrawled in gold script 'Beware the Thorn Prince.'

"Beware the Thorn Prince?" he repeated in confusion, head tilted somewhat as he read over the line a few more times to make sure he hadn't been mistaken. Sure enough, the words were right there, unchanging. "What is that supposed to mean?" It was truly confusing. It sounded too much like a warning to really be a title... But Thorn Prince? What king of name was that? Was it saying it was going to be wrapped up in thorns?

Antonio was much too curious to really wait. What was the point of waiting anyway? Gilbert had given it to him, so it was his now. Whatever it was...

Fingers creeping to the edge of the case, he was right about to open it before a loud knock sounded at his door and he drew his hand back with a sharp gasp, head instantly turning to stare. "Si?"

"I'm home! Come make me some dinner!" Silvio, Antonio's older brother called, making the Spaniard grimace. He was hoping he wouldn't come home for a few more days at the very least. He was always gone anyway; him and their parents, always on business trips, traveling all over the world. Half the time he suspected they didn't even go for business, but the exhausted smiles his father would send him whenever he came home always made him rethink his doubts.

Pushing himself up, he grumbled to himself and walked out, shooting the man a dirty look. To say that their relationship was strained would be a huge understatement. They never seemed to be able to agree on anything, no matter how large or small the issue was. Silvio even went so far as to side with Antonio's enemy! Arthur, that damn bastard... He took everything away! Even when they were in kindergarten together and Antonio had just been minding his own business, the British boy had swooped in and stolen the pirate ship toy that the Spaniard had been playing with. That had begun their feud, even if they were too small to really understand how long it would last.

After the meal and the strained silence had finally ended, he trudged back up to his room and plopped down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to formulate a plan on how he could fill up a three minute speech for English all about tomatoes before he finally remembered that he had been rudely interrupted earlier. He grinned and rolled out of the bed, crawling over to the box to finally satisfy his burning curiosity.

To his severe disappointment, all that greeted his eyes was a cross necklace and an old-looking piece of parchment, letters written in gold, just like on the front of the box. An uncharacteristic frown tugged at his lips as he picked up both items, studying them in his hands before he turned his full attention to the letter, trying to decipher the cursive. Who wrote in cursive nowadays anyway? Computers had cursive fonts people could use. Squinting, he read over the contents, somewhat confused.

Dear Reader,

If you are reading this, it means that you have come into the possession of one of my treasures. If you own one of my treasures, it is safe to say I have passed on. I trust you to take care of him, despite his harsh personality.

'Harsh personality?' he thought to himself, brows furrowed. 'What was in the case? A dead body?' He continued on though, curiosity outweighing his confusion.

He is one of my favorite children, though he doesn't believe it.

Holy crap, it really was a dead body!

Oh, I'm probably confusing you... I'm sure he is probably still asleep. I must warn you, he'll fall asleep a lot. He's an amazing creation though, once you get past his defenses. To awaken him, just turn the clock on his wrist.

Creation? Who the hell calls their own child their creation? What did Gilbert give him?! And how would turning a clock wake a dead boy up?!

Wait...

Where was the body?! He searched around frantically before looking back at the letter, desperately hoping for answers. Sane answers!

If he has escaped (this happens often, there's no need to worry), then all you must do is put on the cross , hold it tight and chant 'pomodoro.' Have a tomato ready for him as an offering. You will land on his good side for this action.

This was seriously getting freaky. Though, now his curiosity had grown to monstrous proportions. He just couldn't let a dead body lay around his house either or Silvio would kick his ass. He held the letter and necklace tightly in his hand as he quickly jogged to the kitchen to grab one of his home-grown tomatoes, checking around him the entire time. Maybe this was just a really messed up practical joke...

Locking the door behind him once he had returned, he sat cross-legged on his bed and slipped the necklace on, feeling more than childish, clasping it tightly in his free hand. "Pomodoro..." he muttered quietly, cheeks heating up slightly. He squirmed in his spot, trying to keep his voice down. "Pomodoro, pomodoro, pmodoro, pomodoro..."

Suddenly, the tomato was yanked out of his hands and his eyes flew open in shock, doubling in size at the sight in front of him.

"Tch. This tomato is fucking small." A somewhat deep voice scoffed, the person the voice belonged to biting into it eagerly, despite his harsh words. The letter fell from Antonio's hands as he gaped at the man, missing the warning scrawled out at the bottom of the page.

If he comes to you willingly, then you have made a contract. Congratulations! You are now his master, though I am quite sure he will control you far more than you can control him. He is the most loyal though, so you have gotten lucky. Somewhat. Beware my friend, for this is my Thorn Prince. You have chosen my most unique child, though there is another with his face.

Dear reader, you must never separate these two look-alikes. If their bond is weakened, it will be a downfall of all of my creations. They shall both fall into a deep sleep, and along with them, their masters shall too.

I fear for your life if you have separated them, friend. I pray that you have not.

Good luck with your bonding. Please, give them my best wishes.

Sincerely,

Himayura