A/N: To give me a humorous break from my more serious Hetalia fic "Celeste Mosaique", I've decided to write a little parody following the stories of both "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" and the animated Disney adaptation "Alice in Wonderland". Yes, this will be Hetalia-style, and many of the little parts won't directly follow the original work of literature nor the movie. Human names are used.

Disclaimer: I own neither Axis Powers Hetalia nor the story of Alice and her Wonderland.

Enjoy!

Tranquility. Such was the phrase often used to describe the desires of a drowsy young man, sleep-deprived and desperate for a moment of peaceful bliss. Many would describe such serenity as lying below the comforting shade of a great oak tree, a gentle breeze disheveling their wispy locks of hair in a playful tease as their eyelids shut softly and their breathing regulated. Indeed, such a scene would be considered by many as being a paradise like no other.

But, alas, such a paradise is often short-lived.

Lovino Vargas leaned against said oak tree, a genuinely irked façade plastered onto his face like a theater mask. A rather violent wind blew against his face ruthlessly, early spring chill nipping mercilessly at his pink cheeks and sending a thread of goose bumps along his body. The cruel-hearted gusts whipped his dark auburn hair in every which direction, leaving it in a particularly unkempt state. His amber eyes were, in fact, shut, but much too tightly for any real ease, as the cool weather made them water uncontrollably.

Cursing under his breath, the Italian man reopened his eyes, blinking the dreariness from them in exhaustion. He had fallen asleep for a few hours, back at his estate, and had taken comfort in the warm embrace of his mattress. Upon reawakening, he found himself in a field, unfamiliar to the young man, with a heavy weight pressing him further down into the itchy tickles of the grass below. Additional comprehension proved another slightly important fact.

Lovino Vargas was garbed in an old, somewhat worn dress, frilly and, above all, femininely British. He sat in stunned silence for a few meager moments, a mild look of perplexity replacing the frown that had appeared earlier. Glancing downward ever-so-slightly, he happened to notice a single tag dangling from the inside fabrics of the outfit, making out the faintest hand-written message imprinted on the cloth.

Property of Francis Bonnefoy

"Damned bastard!" Lovino swore aloud, hands balled up into fists at the peculiar glances he was receiving from the surrounding civilians. If Francis had indeed stuck him in a dress (which would have involved some undressing, a thought the Italian wished to block out for the moment), then his actual location was even more unknown than he had previously suspected. With a sudden dread striking him like a crude slap in the face, Lovino rose to his feet hurriedly, frantically searching around for his own, comparatively manlier clothes with no such luck. His face continued to redden at the sight of yet another woman shooting him a horrified look, shouting out loud virtually any profane phrases that popped into his head. A few parents beckoned their children away, shielding their ears and leaving the seemingly-maniacal man alone in the field.

"I've got to get out of this dress..." he muttered in agony, voice slightly hoarse from the persistent yelling. Grimacing at the tight fabrics that hugged his masculine figure in all the wrong ways, he proceeded to wander around aimlessly, discovering that his location must have been a local park of some sort... though where "local" was remained a mystery. Why can't things ever go my way? All I want is a place to call my own, where I don't have to worry about some wine-bastard stripping me in my sleep!"Argh... where am I? There's not a damned commoner anywhere around here! Isn't there anyone who can tell me where the hell I am?!"

As if in direct response to this rhetorical question spoken aloud, a soft rustling erupted from behind the shrubbery, catching the Italian man by ultimate surprise. Emitting a shriek which appropriately matched the clothing he wore, Lovino stumbled backwards, caught up in his dress as he plummeted to the ground, bumping his rear on the hard dirt of the ground. "W-Who's there?" he demanded, voice trembling out of its normal tone. Both defensively and considerably foolishly, he lifted the object closest to him, which happened to be a rotting twig, and held it up in resistance, eyeing the rattling bush before him.

What should appear, hopping about wildly from behind the veil of bushes, but a white rabbit, ears flopping about in a childish manner? Lovino did a double take, vigorously rubbing at his eyes with the back of his palm at the peculiar sight; for, in all honesty, this rabbit greatly resembled his younger brother, Feliciano, in floppy white ears, bunny feet slippers, and a cotton ball tail taped to his rear. The "rabbit" was clothed in a simple scarlet-and-orange suit, and with the left ear hanging down in a lame position over the shoulder while the other stood erect and alert, he seemed, if possible, even more obscure.

And, yet, here was Feliciano the White Rabbit, standing before him without giving Lovino so much as a second glance before shouting in alarm. "Ve~!" he exclaimed, eyes wild and frantic as he nearly tripped over his rabbit's feet slippers in panicky tears. "I'm late! Oh no, Ludwig's going to get mad and yell at me! I hope he doesn't tell the royal family, they're all so scary! Oh, what am I going to do?" A pocket watch dangled limply from his white-gloved right hand, a slice of pepperoni pizza grasped in his left. Biting off a single, reluctant bite of his Italian snack, Feliciano gulped it down and inhaled deeply before rushing off at top speed, away from Lovino's spot on the ground.

The Southern Italian stood from his resting place on the ground and reached out a hand, finding it increasingly difficult to follow the surprisingly-swift movements of his rabbit-brother. "H-Hey, Feliciano! Come back!" But, alas, the rabbit either needed a hearing aid or was oblivious to all else in the surrounding environment upon which he had stepped foot. Groaning in frustration, Lovino smoothed down his periwinkle dress (and, really, couldn't Francis have picked a manlier color?) and hurried after the White Rabbit, a bit uneasy at his brother's odd antics and intentions. What was that Feliciano had babbled about? Something about being late and a royal family? As far as he knew, Feliciano wasn't acquainted with any sort of royalty, and he intended to keep it that way. Not to mention that his brother had mentioned Ludwig. Somehow, things weren't threading together, and Lovino had foolishly followed, willing to protect the rabbit-man from the wrath of the potato-bastard.

"I'm sorry, Ludwig!" Feliciano proclaimed to no one in particular, retaining his typical ignorance and naivety. Heart battering madly in his ribcage, Lovino continued to pursue his rabbit-brother deeper into the unfamiliar park, passing by a shimmering crystal pond, an intricate mosaic of lily pads patterned across the gleaming surface of the water. Eh, nature's beauty was never really his interest. He deliberately strode past the pond and into a dusty clearing, huffing wildly from the frantic chase.

"Damn it, Feliciano! Where are you?!" Lovino continued to swear under his breath, hunched over as he desperately attempted to catch his breath. Spying something out of the corner of his hazel eye, the young man straightened his posture to approach a glaring object, catching direct light from the glow of the sun above. He dropped his pocketwatch… he thought, stuffing the item into the inner fold of his dress. Perhaps changing clothes would have to wait. Stealing a glance forward, the Southern Italian spotted a rather meager rabbit hole, agape for all to see (had there been any other people present). Surely the pasta-loving bunny couldn't squirm into such a miniscule opening in a ledge?

Well, his business is none of mine… Lovino reassured himself, crossing his arms over the empty bosoms of the dress. But, then again, if the potato-bastard is down there… Oh, Feliciano could be eating a wurst this very moment! I'm coming, you pain in the ass!

Perhaps it was on sheer instinct… or maybe he was just jumping in without fully thinking through with the plan. The second possibility seems a bit more reasonable. Regardless, the cross-dressing man had crawled head-first into the hole, increasingly peeved by the dress which restrained his movement and had begun to ride up. Well, that, and he had only managed to get his front half in the opening in the first place. The remainder of his body, the bottom half, had gotten itself stuck… how convenient. Oh, how the Italian loved his luck in times like these!

He was exceedingly clueless about the exact amount of minutes, or hours, spent stuck with his buttocks and legs still hanging ridiculously outside the den. All Lovino was aware of was the discomfort of his outfit and the exceptional anxiety jolting through his body at the blatant darkness and stench of the hole in which he was stuck. "Hello?!" he had exclaimed, kicking his legs to and fro, disregarding the fact that he was in a dress and probably revealing much more to the world than it desired to see. "Damn it all, someone get me out of here!"

As if on cue, a drenching downpour began to plummet to the earth from the heavens above, moistening his lower half and soaking him to the bone in its chilly rainwater. More time was wasted in waiting, though the heavy batter of rain now added to his gloom. "I swear, if Feliciano isn't even in this hole, I'm going to-"

Thankfully, though what seemed like an eternity had passed during his impatient waiting, Lovino could feel the water from the shower outside flood into the small opening, wetting his body enough to allow it to slip inside from the mouth of the den. At long last, he was un-stuck! Never again would the cowardly Italian stick his head somewhere smaller than the width of his non-existent hips!

Now, to track down his rabbit-brother. Scooting along on his stomach, Lovino shimmied further into the hole, mildly astounded by the depth of the den. He hadn't remembered the ledge going back so far. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him again? The young man grew increasingly thankful for his lack of claustrophobia as he took one final, overconfident scoot forward…

…And promptly plunged downward in the darkness of the reeking hole. This just wouldn't be his day, would it?

A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope to continue updating pretty regularly… I mean, "Celeste Mosaique" is updated about every other day, so maybe I can write this in my free time in between! And this chapter was kind of short, so I hope to write a longer one next time. Consider this the prologue!

However, my rate of updating also depends on the popularity of this story.

If you will, please leave suggestions and commentary in a review. You have no idea how greatly I appreciate it. Even if it's a simple "this is humorous", it will be accepted with gratitude. Check out my other stories as well, and I hope to hear from you all soon!