#Hetalia peru

[another-mexico-oc]

¡Sí se pudo! 🥇🥈🥉

(Ya sé, me falto dibujar a Guatemala 😅 Felicidades por sus medallas 👍)

⚜️ ⚜️ ⚜️

(Si gustas puedes rebloguear🔄 este post, pero por favor NO reposteés mi trabajo en otras páginas web y redes sociales sin permiso previo. / You can reblog🔄 this post, but please don´t repost my work on other websites and social media without previous permission. )

[crepegosette]

your Peru and Bolivia ocs are so friend-shaped?? i love them sm <3

aaa thanks sm anon! ;w;

(don't tag as ship, they're sibs)

[moonbyte]

Perus national flower is the "Cantua buxifolia". The Cantua grow on bushes, these bushes can become up to 3 meters high, the leaves are small and rought and the flowers don't smell despite their captivating colors. The flower has been cultivated, but to find it in the wild is difficult and dangerous. It grows mainly in a height of 1200 to 3800 meters, for example in the area of the Yungas of Peru. It is hard to access, since it likes to grow on the valleys on top of steep cliffs. Perus fascination for its flower is thus also not based on the colors or anything, but on history. Or, more precisely, a historic story. A old legend from the Incas, Perus ancient ancestors...

Illimani and Illampu had been two powerful inca kings, both blessed with proud sons. Both their kingdoms florished and were full of harmony and riches. But, despite not displaying any danger for the others wealth, the kings felt threatened by the others prosperity. They began a war and fought long and mercyless, until both hit each other with a fatal wound. They forced their sons - who had been against the war from the beginning - to revenge them and died. And thus, the sons continued the war, despite not feeling any anger or hate for the other. They, too, hit each other with a fatal wound. And as they were lying on the battle field with their last breaths, they asked their servants to stop the war and put both of them in graves that are next to each other as a sign of peace. Pachamama, "Mother World" and godess of fertility, appeared then and found pity in the upcoming death of the two sons, for they had died due to their fathers stupid hostility. She made the stars of Illimani and Illampu fall from the sky as punishment and as they touched the earth, they became two gigantic, snow-covered mountains. Whenever the snow melts, running down as rivers, then they are crying out of regret, nourishing the valleys of their former kingdoms. Pachamama also created then the Cantua, a present for the kingdoms to show their unity, displaying the sons colors red and yellow, as well as green (which stands for hope).

Those mountains indeed excist and are named after those kings. They are the highest mountains of Bolivia and at least Illampu is, despite being smaller then Illimani, very dangerous because of it's multiple steep cliffs.

[dolceminerva97]

Sorry for seeming repetitive with these artworks, but I wanted to make a post with all of them together! The last time I drew all my ocs together it was a group of chibis in 2018, some characters have been updated and new ones created since then, it was about time I could re-introduce them all :D

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE LATIN AMERICA

ik ik they aren't canon characters (yet) but i just have some ideas for some fan perceptions of them. i got a lot of inspiration from live journal for their portrayals. honestly this was a lot of fun to write and i might start exploring other non canons characters that have piqued my interest as well.

tw. this toxic as shit, blood, violence, some suggestive themes, my horrid attempts at incorporating spanish into the dialogue if it counts

MEXICO (José Hernández Valdez Martinez)

• José as a yandere is suffocating, to say the least. He never gives his darling a break from his presence. But all he wants to do is be with his amado, is that too much to ask? According to José, it is not. If they try to get even a moment of peace from him he acts as though they've committed a heinous wrongdoing against him. He goes out binge drinking, neglects his responsibilities, isolates himself from others. It gets to the point his brothers will step in, and deliver his darling to him on a silver platter. If they haven't already turned them self in. Does he feel a bit pathetic? Yes. Would he do it again for the same result? In a heartbeat. • He won't allow his darling to have a life of their own. From their national affairs to everyday life, José will ensure he's apart of it all. He wants to be their closest ally and dearest confidant, so anyone who gets in the way of that better start goddamn running. He'll happily sabotage every relationship his darling has to ensure their exclusivity to him. • There's no way to get privacy with José around, he thinks things like boundries are stupid concepts the USA invented. "Don't fall for Alfato's mudo traps" he jokes, but he means every word he says. • Why does his darling need to lock the door when they take showers or take phone calls with their boss in a different room, José takes sourly to any minute attempt at creating a personal space bubble.

the sounds of water rapidly pouring filled josé's ears, usually we take our shower together at 4, his face contorted into confusion. oh well — dinner can wait, he set down the bowl of rice he had been rinsing. "mijo" josé called out, picking at the locked door "why do you always lock it" he groaned, now he had to go get the spare key.

"josé can i just take one shower" they peered out from behind the shower curtain, eyebrows furrowed "you don't have to cover yourself we've showered together before" he began stripping "just one" pushing past them, he let out a yelp as the ice cold water hit him.

"think about how much we're saving the environment by showering together, mijo!" adjusting the tap, he let out a sigh of relief as the water began to warm up. "you've been spending too much time with manuel" they scoffed under their breath, reaching for the conditioner bottle.

josé's eye darkened "and you have been such a weón, as manuel would say, lately" he snatched the conditioner out their grasp, opening up the cap and squirting out product onto his hands. working the conditioner into their hair, they yelped as his nails scratched against their scalp "don't ever think about anyone but me when we're in the shower" he growled under his breath, ignoring their complaints.

VENEZUELA (Carlos Gómez Delgado)

• There are few yandere's as openly manipulative as Carlos. Most yandere's categorised as manipulative do their work from behind the scenes, but Carlos has no problem telling his darling what he thinks to their face. If he's jealous, he makes it known, albeit by trashing the person and his darlings involvement with them until his darling feels too self conscious to interact with anyone he doesn't approve of. At first he describes himself as having paternal or brotherly instincts to protect them, and whilst that is true, a part of them just wants to be able to control their every move. • Out of all of Latin America, he is among the most openly affectionate yandere's; he's always got a hand on their shoulder, he always refers to them as corazón and has no shame in pecking them on the lips in front of others no matter their gender. He doesn't really care if his darling is fond of his affections, nothing they can do will ever get him to stop, so they better get used to it. • Rejecting his "advice" or affection is perhaps the stupidest thing his darling could possibly do. It's no secret he is not to be messed with. He has no qualms about roughing his darling up if it means setting their behaviour straight. • Don't like it when he tackles you to the ground? he used to hug you but apparently that didn't satisfy your highness. Carlos's moods are a ticking time bomb, once his anger wears off he returns to normal as if he didn't just batter the person he claims is his corazón.

they sniffled, hand held up against where he had laid his hand on them. Carlos hated the sight of tears in their eyes but how else would they learn to be appreciative? he studied their expression as they attempted to calm themself, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"are you sorry?" he finally spoke, his amber eyes meeting theirs "what" they breathed out, bewildered. "sorry or not, corazón?" he leaned in closer, furrowing his brows as they flinched away "ahh, it was just a slap, nothing to cry over" they remained still as he brought his hand up to their face, fingers brushing over the reddened skin.

they remained quiet, only the sound of heavy breaths could be heard from them "do you need another one?" he joked, breaking the silence. but carlos wasn't just joking. he'd happily do it again if they didn't speak soon.

his face was unreadable as they hastily shook their head "words, amorcito" he had shifted closer to them, prompting them to finally speak "i.. im sorry" they stuttered out, avoiding his gaze. "good" he placed his lips to their temple, before dragging them to lay down.

ECUADOR (Esteban Fernandez Romero)

• Esteban is subtle, the true extent of his insanity is known to no one but himself. He's a delusional yandere, who see's his relationship with his darling as more than what it is. What might be a cordial friendship to them is a blossoming relationship to Esteban. He craves having someone to himself, he craves the kind of relationship Spain and Romano had back during the empire, he used to think he wanted to have someone to look out for him no matter what he did, but as he becomes more and more entrenched in his obsession, he's found himself wanting to be the macho man for once. • He might despise tedious tasks such as chores, but if it means catching the attention of his darling, he'll grin and bare it. He helps them with whatever task they might need help with, with no qualms, yet they still don't give him the time of day! He hates the fact that he craves their validation and attention as much as he does, but he'd rather be stuck in a room with america for a week than admit it. • Esteban can handle them using him for their own gain but god, please god, don't ignore him. It drives him crazy, which is something you never want to see in a former Spanish colony. He lashes out, drastically changing his behaviour. Esteban isn't afraid to maim or threaten others when he gets like this, even his darling. • There are few situations that would make him do this in public, perhaps in front of his brothers, but behind the privacy of closed doors, so his darling could never convince others about his true nature.

a loud bang was heard from the kitchen, prompting them to come rushing in to see what happened. "este-" "oh now you care" he spat out, blood gashing from his arm, pots and pans that were once cooking on the hot stove on the floor "only when i do something wrong you look away from your paperwork" he glared at them, grabbing another knife and throwing it at the ground, grinning when they flinched.

"maybe i should start doing everything wrong" stumbling past the hot pans and the cutlery littered across the kitchen floor, he made his way closer to them "speak goddammit!" he barked out as they remained silent, staring at him with wide eyes "i- esteban you're bleeding" they slowly pointed towards his arm, which had been completely disgarded in his fit of rage.

he blinked, bringing his afflicted lower arm up to his eyes, before glancing back at them. "do.. do you want me to patch that up.." they quietly asked, stuck making burning eye contact as he came up close to them.

slowly, he snaked his arms around their waist, leaning his head on their shoulder "clean that mess up as well" he spoke into their ear, bringing his injured arm up to their face and dragging it across their visage. as they went to go fetch the first aid, they wiped the blood from their cheeks.

PERU (Miguel Alejandro Prado)

• It's impossible to see through Miguel and realise his true intentions until it's too late, but under it all he's the most obsessive of the bunch. Unlike others, his darling won't have even the faintest idea of the dark thoughts he harbours towards them. He's Miguel, when he flirts it's nothing but niceties, when he insists on accompanying them wherever they may be going, it's just him being social. It's hard for his darling to tell him to go away when he's such good company, but if they did they would come to find out the true extent he's willing to go for them. • Miguel is honestly just content being in his darling's life, he doesn't feel the need to have a specific label on the relationship, as long as he has a place in their heart, his obsession will go unnoticed. He's apply to be their prince in shining armour and work behind the shadows for them. They don't have to thank him, they just have to love him. • Which is why he simply couldn't handle it if they ever tried to distance themselves. He won't leave them alone, he won't let them get that far. He'll drag them back kicking and screaming if he has to. "oh i just hadn't seen you in a while querido" He chuckles, scratching his neck. He simply invites himself back into their life. • Afterwards, he'll find himself craving to know every detail about them. They can't even go get a glass of water without telling him. He's breathing down their neck at every turn, regardless if they want him there or not.

the door creaked open, miguel tried to avoid making a sound but god was not on his side tonight. testing their reaction, he sighed in relief as they remained asleep. slowly closing the door behind him, it made another unholy crackle, causing his cariño to shift in their sleep. mierda, he cursed internally, gripping on to his pillow.

turning over to face the wall, miguel grimanced "move" he whispered under his breath, trying to coax his darling's sleeping body to face him. what was the point of sleeping next to them if he couldn't admire their beautiful face?

grumbling quietly, miguel slowly approached the bed, placing his pillow next to their head, and gradually sinking down on to the bed. don't wake up don't wake up don't, their eyes opened at the sudden mocement "miguel" they whined, shifting to face him again "i thought we could have a sleep over" he smiled toothily, making himself comfortable.

"we had one last night" they deadpanned, half asleep, definitely displeased to have been awoken "and the night before" miguel only grinned at their words "and now tonight as well!"

BRAZIL (Luciano da Silva)

• Few would expect Luciano to be as clingy as he is. He himself could he the ideal target for a yandere. But what they forget is that he was raised by Portugal and Spain. Not to mention it's always the unassuming ones. As a pretty major world power, he's rather co-dependent on his darling, in matters of country and personal. That's what started it all; his darling always does so much for him, it would be absolutely horrible if he ever didn't have them! It starts off as wanting to make sure his darling liked him enough to stay by him, and turned into an obsession with making sure he is the only one his darling cares about. • He takes up all their time to acheive this, can't go off with other countries when they're stuck helping him with his paperwork, can they? and by helping they're actually doing all the work, but Luciano made sure to prepare snacks and he'll take them out for drinks once they're done! At first he's content having them during working hours until he can't see them when they return home back to their own lives. He should be their entire life. He'll convince them into fulfilling just about every one of his responsibilities, using the excuse "isn't it so great to have so much influence over a country as big as mine" • Sure they do all the important stuff but he promises to repay them in other ways. It's best to just take the bait, Luciano doesn't respond well to rejection. His temperament become abominably clear when his darling rejects his company. He doesn't lash out physically, not yet, but he says some truly vile things, makes some threats, it's disturbing. And the worst part is no one believes his darling if they try to tell others about his true nature. • He's a submissive yandere if his darling doesn't attempt to pull away. He doesn't mind complying with demands or being bossed around, as long as they want him. He can handle anything but rejection.

"querido! what do you think" luciano marched into the study, not caring the slightest that he was disrupting the others work "looks good" they tapped their pen against the paper, in deep thought as they examined the words "you didn't even look!" he skipped up to the desk and snatched the pen out of their grip

with their attention now, luciano did a spin "tada!" he smiled widely "i've seen you wear your soccer uniform hundreds of times" they quickly stood up, trying to chase him down for the pen, but he only kept moving away "football — how many times do i have to explain! and look closer" he held the pen up high in air as they tried to retake it "you forgot to shower?" covering their mouth and nose with a hand, they stepped back.

he shook his head, a laugh escaping his lips "no, it's a new jersey, the colours are brighter" he pointed out the minute details, ignoring the look of unamusement on his darling's face. "just giv-" they quickly reached for the pen whilst his hands were down, only for him to use the opportunity to drag them closer, up against his chest "you left me a mountain of paperwork to do i'm busy!"

his smile fell; they were being difficult again. "you can't take a moment to admire me?" within seconds, he flashes them a cheeky grin. before they could explode into anger, he leaned in and pecked them on the lips, before running out "you can get your frustration out later after the match, good luck with the paperwork!"

BOLIVIA (Julio Paz)

• Julio is overwhelmingly possessive of his darling. He doesn't like to sound dramatic, but they're the only person that really matters to him. The only person he gives a damn about. So the least they can do is stop fucking talking to that ingrato spain or even looking at the likes of the USA. He's as bad as Manuel when it comes to isolating his darling from the outside world. They have him, why do they need other allies or friends, if they're that desperate he'll let them invite one of his brothers over but don't you dare think about associating with the likes of europe or asia. It pisses him off to no end when they go frolicking off with other nations, why isn't he enough?! • He isn't particularly open about his jealous and possessive tendencies, at least not at first, all he can really do is pout and give his darling the silent treatment — but he'll never tell them what he's upset about "no, don't worry about me nobody else does" he isn't afraid to use whatever card he has to subtly pull to guilt his darling into compliance. • Overtime, Julio will get more and more comfortable with expressing his discontent towards his darling, oh you went for tea with england? shame his boss decided to go with chile for that trade deal and not his darling's country. huh, apparently spain visited you the other day? and you let him into your house? what a clutz he is forgetting to turn the burner off when he was using his darling's stove to cook tucumenas. • His darling will find themselves not bothering to leave his side anymore, what good does it do them? or running for the hills, either way, there's no shaking him. Once he's become obsessed there's no getting free.

"aye!" julio barked. what a wonderful day it had been, enjoying a sleep in and then going motorcycling in the streets of la paz, only to come home to his darling packing their bags. "what do you think you're doing" storming in, he began throwing their things out the suitcase, ignoring their yells to stop.

"julio, im moving out" in a stern voice, they stood their ground, gripping his hands so he couldn't continue making a mess of their belonging "oh? you think you're too good for me now that gringo wants to be friends with you, huh"

he ripped his arm out of their grip, shoving them onto the bed "i can't live with you twenty four seven, i have a country to help run!" he wasn't listening to their arguments, he was tipping the rest of the contents of the suitcase on to the floor "julio!" they stood up only to get slammed into the bed, unable to move under his weight.

"maybe that ingrato had the right idea, maybe the only way to keep you in line is to lock you up" he stared deeply into their eyes as he spoke, he finally understood what spain had always said, if you wanted something you had to take it.

ARGENTINA (Martin Hernandez)

• Of all of Latin America, and perhaps the world, Martin is the most unpredictable yandere out there. His darling is constantly left on the edge; one moment he will seem to like them, only for the next to be filled with audacious humour that attacks their character. To his darling, he is a self absorbed man who they prefer to keep at arms length. To Martin, his darling is the menace that lives rent free in his head. He tells himself he thinks they're a boludo, a forro, a chamuyero, a careta, a sorete, every offensive pelotudo under the sun, he'd describe his darling with. • Yet he seems to reserve shitting on his darling as his sole right. Anyone else who tries something similar instantly gets the third degree because who the hell do they think they are. Lovino once went on about Martin's darling being some sort of bastard and got swiftly kicked where the sun doesn't shine. Martin passed it off as drunken rage, but it wasn't an isolated incident. He'd pick fights with the other latin american nations who his darling was having troubles with, of course it always has nothing to do with his darling he was just mad Luciano snubbed him from winning the world cup, that's all, "stop thinking everything's about you". • Martin is highly insecure on how his darling perceives him. When his delusion that they mean jack shit to him starts to fade, he's left with the reality that they see him as a royal jerkwad. Surely they still appreciate how attractive and intelligent and talented he is, right?! • He'll start to look for opportunities to show off — he'll overdress whenever he knows he might run into them, subtly get one of his brothers to drag them to his football games, so they can see how ripped and athletic he is, and.. y'know, he might just trip them over so he can show off his medical skills.

with an oomph, they fell to the ground, descending the stair at a rapid pace, one that would surely not uphold the ligaments in their ankle's, at the very least. "aye, pelotudo!" martin yelled from the top of the stairwell, tattering down the steps hastily, as if he hadn't been the one to put his foot in front of theirs, causing the aforementioned fall.

"are you trying to seduce the ground now" he ragged on, squatting down to their level, gripping on to their arm and dragging them to an upright position. a groan of pain left their lips, which sounded a bit too pleasing to martin. letting out a chuckle "what sort of boludo are you, falling down stairs, are you seven?" he examined their bruised limbs.

with a click of his tongue, he slid his arms under their legs and behind their back, hoisting them up with him. "i can walk-" "sure you can, you overgrown baby" he leg their legs fall to the ground, making contact with a loud crack he winced as they let out a cry of pain. maybe that was a bit harsh he mused to himself as he picked them up once more.

"see? useless bebito" he had this smug look on his face as he peered down at them. they diverted their gaze. "it's okay, i'll take you back to my place and put some ointment on, then tomorrow i'll take you in for an x-ray, bueno?"

CHILE (José Manuel González Rodríguez)

• Manuel can best be characterised as an isolating yandere. Once in his grasps, his darling can say goodbye to their social life. It's not that he's overwhelming and takes up all their time, his darling has plenty of free time with him, it's just that there's always a reason they can't leave. Whether it be dangerous wind currants preventing his darling from returning to their country, him or his darling suddenly falling ill, his boss wants to discuss a new treaty between he and his darling, and on and on. • He would never be caught openly admitting to his tendencies towards his darling. If they were to ever confront him about the isolation he tries to impose, he'd go straight to gaslighting: "maybe it's you who's isolating me, have you thought about that". He himself is in denial, and genuinely thinks it's his darling's own fault he's so enamoured. If they didn't want to be stuck with him they would just leave. He's not exactly America, he can't stop them. • That's what he tells himself, until they take his advice and distance them self from him. Something in him snaps. His only friend thinks they can just pick up and leave? Well shit, maybe he is the obsessed one. • Manuel is quick to break into their house. He'll say he's just paying them a visit, that's what friends do. But his intentions are clear, and his darling comes out of the night shaken up to say the least.

"uhh, manuel?" they chuckled nervously "it's eight at night — shouldn't you be in chile?" they scrunched their nose, something they always did when they were nervous. manuel would know, he'd observed everything about them.

he took a step closer but they took a step back. was it the blank look on his face? manuel tried smiling, but his cariño only seemed more uncomfortable. "am i not allowed to pay you a visit, weón" he tched, backing them up against the wall. he followed their eyes but they avoided his gaze "aye" he grabbed their chin "mucho mejor" he muttered under his breath, their eyes now meeting his.

his face leaned in closer until his lips dance above theirs, hand still sturdy on their chin "manuel" they managed to squeak out from the pressure of his fingers against their jaw "just — let go please" he surpressed a growl, letting his hand fall from their visage.

that same hand took ahold of their arm, dragging them along with him "manuel!" he ignored them "whatever i did im sorry!" he pushed into the bedroom, locking the door behind him.

[pixigels]

fem latin hetalia designs

[ecuperweek]

[Español] 

El Atelier de Miguel abre sus puertas del 21 al 27 de octubre y están invitados a ver lo mejor de la moda ecuatoriana-peruana 🇪🇨❤🇵🇪 en la 11va edición de la EcuPer Week (también conocida como la semana Perú/Ecuador). 🤩

¿Cómo participar? 🤔 Muy fácil: suelta tu imaginación 🎨 y crea lo que más te guste (fanarts, fanfics, fanmixes, etc.) con ambos personajes. Compártelo en tus redes (Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook e Instagram) y sé parte de la pasarela digital más top 💻✨.

👀 Estaremos utilizando principalmente los tags: #ecuperweek2024, #ecuperweek, como también los opcionales: #latinhetalia, #ecuper, #perecu.

¡Sigue nuestra cuenta en Twitter @ecuperweek para no perderte ninguna creación! 👗

[For information in English, please follow the cut]

Miguel's Atelier is opening its doors from October 21-27, and you're invited to check out the best of Ecuadorian-Peruvian fashion 🇪🇨❤️🇵🇪 at the 11th annual EcuPer Week (aka Peru/Ecuador Week).

Want to join in?🤔 It's easy! Just let your imagination run wild 🎨 and create whatever you want (fan art, fanfics, fanmixes, etc.) featuring both characters. Share it on your socials (Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, and Instagram) and be part of the coolest digital runway! 💻✨

👀 We'll be using the following hashtags: #ecuperweek2024, #ecuperweek, and optional ones like #latinhetalia, #ecuper, and #perecu.

Follow us on Twitter @ecuperweek so you don't miss any creations! 👗

[one0p1nk]

// Ah- Don’t mind me, I’m at my Hetalia phase and I still need to sedate my Latam spirit and OC hyper fixations /ih.

[ichiishi-and-ulquihime-lover]

Estaba muy ácido 🍋

Mi país, mi país :0

[franzoarts]

Latam Kids and Spain

[red-pincushion]

Ecuador and Peru

I know there is a canon Ecuador design, I still wanted to make one of my own

[another-mexico-oc]

Buenas noches! Seguramente en otros países el Día de San Valentín ya se terminó, pero en México todavía falta una hora, así que todavía estoy a tiempo 😁 Espero que hayan tenido un gran día 😊 /

Good evening! Surely in other countries Valentine's Day is already over, but in Mexico there is still an hour left, so I'm still on time 😁 Hope you had a great day 😊

💘

( Si gustas puedes rebloguear🔄 este post, pero por favor NO reposteés mi trabajo en otras páginas web y redes sociales sin permiso previo. / You can reblog🔄 this post, but please don´t repost my work on other websites and social media without previous permission. )

[crepegosette]

in-universe memes but I make them about south america and south american history

[ask-ancestros]

Miren que hermoso este arte de HennaWia. Una gran fan de los tatas y enamorada de esta ship~

[dolceminerva97]

Hetalia OC lineup: part 2!

[a-pair-of-iris]

Entre muros y silencios (Prefacio y Parte 1)

by Aris

Ao3 Wattpad

Prefacio.

Como cualquier casa real que se preciara, la de los Burgos tenía un buen conjunto de leyendas y tradiciones familiares que se remontaban hasta los inicios de su dinastía. Esas historias eran transmitidas a todos y cada uno de sus miembros desde temprana edad, con la esperanza de infundir en sus tiernas cabecitas el respeto y temor necesarios para que ninguno cometiera una imprudencia que atrajera la desgracia e ira de las hadas sobre la familia.

De todas, una se destacaba en importancia y reconocimiento por los habitantes del reino, pues se encontraba tallada en las fuentes de todas las plazas principales de cada ciudad. Era aquella que hablaba sobre como el primero de los reyes de la familia se convirtió, de hecho, en rey.

Nacido sin riquezas, con el tiempo se volvió un joven caballero del reino, querido por la gente debido a su generosidad y buen corazón. Aconteció un día que, encontrando en su camino a una viejecita desvalida a merced del frío y la ventisca, le ofreció su capa y un lugar junto al fuego. La anciana en verdad resultó ser un hada que, agradecida por su bondad, decidió concederle un don.

"Dime, noble caballero, ¿qué es lo que más anhela tu corazón?" le preguntó.

El joven caballero, que estaba profundamente enamorado de la princesa del reino, le confesó su amor y amarguras. A pesar de sus proezas, seguía siendo pobre, y sabía que el rey nunca les permitiría casarse a menos que pudiera ofrecerle riquezas a la corona. El hada, tocada por la sinceridad de su amor, le otorgó un regalo especial: un Reloj de Arena mágico.

"Este reloj," explicó el hada, "te traerá gran prosperidad a ti y al reino si te casas con la princesa antes de que caiga toda la arena, es decir, antes de que cumplas 21 años. Si lo haces, no solo conseguirás la mano de tu amada, sino que también asegurarás la abundancia para ti y tus descendientes."

El caballero llevó tal regalo ante el rey y logró que accediera a la boda apenas la noche antes de la fecha encomendada. Con su unión, el reino prosperó más allá de lo que jamás habrían imaginado: los campos se volvieron fértiles y abundantes; los ríos, tempestades y bestias se hicieron dóciles, y la fortuna sonrió a todos los habitantes.

Pero cuando nacieron los hijos del caballero y la princesa, el hada regresó para advertirles: "La prosperidad que habéis recibido no es eterna o sin condiciones. Vuestros hijos, y los hijos de sus hijos, deberán seguir el mismo mandato: encontrar a su pareja y casarse antes de cumplir los 21 años. Si fallan en hacerlo, las arenas del reloj se detendrán, y todo lo que habéis ganado les será cobrado de manera terrible…"

Las transcripciones variaban en esa última parte. Algunos textos hablaban de una mano siniestra que les arrancaría la vida; otros, que el infortunado se marchitaría como una flor sin sol mientras su corazón se tonara de piedra, incapaz de amar o ser amado; o incluso que acabarían vagando eternamente por los confines de una tierra de fría oscuridad e inmensa desdicha. Sea lo que fuese, la historia se convirtió en una advertencia para todos los miembros de la familia y una responsabilidad particular de los monarcas de hacerla cumplir.

Tal angustiante premisa era justamente la que atormentaba las noches de la joven reina Catalina, imaginando que aquel terrible destino del que tanto le advirtieron de niña lograba alcanzar al menor de sus hermanos, el príncipe Francisco, el único de ellos que faltaba por casarse y a quien solo restaban dos días para cumplir los veintiún años.

-----o----

Parte 1

—Tiene que estar bromeando.

Francisco no podía creer lo que estaba pasando. Por un momento llegó a pensar que seguía dormido, un extraño sueño donde su hermana mayor lo levantaba a tirones de la cama para arrojarlo frente a un gran grupo de hombres, pero ya se había pellizcado lo suficiente como para entender que era real.

Francamente, por la desesperación con que Catalina solía abordar el asunto de su matrimonio -o mejor dicho, la falta de este- debió esperarse algo así por parte de la reina.

—Es por tu bien y el del pueblo, Francisco. Todo el reino está en vigilia ahora mismo temiendo por ti. Así que hazles un favor a tus súbditos y elige un esposo. —respondió su hermana, más una súplica que una orden, señalando nuevamente al grupo de hombres.

Era una buena selección de sus generales, comandantes y un par de eruditos los que se inclinaban respetuosamente ante ellos. A pesar de la prisa que traía, Catalina parecía haberse tomado el tiempo de escoger los mejores ejemplares entre los voluntarios que se presentaron para convertirse en su marido. Tal vez en otras circunstancias se hubiese inclinado un poco a complacerla, pero no era el caso en ese momento.

—Se te olvida que estoy comprometido. —Tuvo que recordarle Francisco a su hermana.

—Con un hombre que ni siquiera pudo enviar una confirmación de si vendría o no. —devolvió Catalina, suspirando frustrada con su obstinación—. El alba está a unas horas, Fran, no estoy dispuesta a arriesgarme por la débil esperanza de que ocurra un milagro y el príncipe llegue a tiempo.

—Sé que tú no, pero yo debo confiar en que lo hará y honrar mi promesa. Miguel llegará. —declaró con toda la confianza de la que fue capaz.

“Tiene que llegar”, era lo que se había estado repitiendo toda la semana, pero no podía negar que también comenzaba a inquietarse. Era cierto que el otro no respondió con claridad a ninguna de sus cartas, esas en las que le recordaba las preocupaciones sobre las fábulas familiares y solicitaba su presencia en palacio para disipar los temores de sus hermanas y del reino; pero Francisco sabía que si Miguel hubiese enviado una confirmación de que iría para casarse con él antes de que llegara la fatídica fecha, su padre lo hubiera detenido en el acto. No, no hubo confirmación, pero sabían que la caravana del príncipe estaba de camino a su encuentro, así que no tenía de qué preocuparse.

Miguel llegaría a tiempo.

-o-

El amanecer se elevó finalmente sobre el reino, pintando el mundo de suaves tonos dorados y avivando el murmullo inquieto del despertar de la gente.

Las primeras luces del día bañaban las colinas y campos por los que serpenteaba el camino real, pero este seguía completamente vacío. Francisco había permanecido de pie en el balcón principal desde que la pareja real y él fueron llamados al salón por los eruditos, el corazón expectante, escrutando en la oscuridad cualquier rastro de Miguel o su caravana. Pero en ese momento, mientras el sol ascendía lentamente en el cielo, la esperanza se desvanecía poco a poco y una profunda desazón se abría paso en su pecho, inundándolo de temor.

—Fran... —La voz de María a su lado lo sobresaltó. No supo en qué momento había llegado al castillo ni cuánto llevaba junto a él en el balcón, pero por lo fría que sintió su mano cuando envolvió la suya debía ser bastante—. Ya es hora.

Las palabras de su hermana lo obligaron a aceptar la realidad, ineludible para ese entonces: Miguel no llegaría a tiempo. Y él mismo se había condenado. Sea lo que sea que le sucediera de ahora en adelante, sería culpa de su ingenua obstinación.

—De acuerdo. —Con un último vistazo al camino y las colinas vacías, Francisco se apartó del balcón y siguió a María al interior del castillo.

Dentro, los eruditos no habían perdido el tiempo. Las mesas, bancas, macetas y tapices habían hecho lugar a una serie de altas antorchas alineadas alrededor de un gran círculo que los sabios acababan de dibujar en el piso. Solo los tronos donde Catalina y Fernanda se sentaban estoicas y majestuosas permanecían en su lugar. A sus pies, Francisco reconoció los baúles que los sirvientes habían empacado para su luna de miel. El recuerdo de la ausencia de su prometido lo azotó una vez más bajo los ojos acusadores y desesperados de su hermana mayor. Fernanda por su parte lo miraba compasiva, solo su cuñada podía entender lo que sentía al ver su futuro junto al hombre que amaba desaparecer en un instante.

—Aún hay tiempo, solo tienes que...

Un espantoso estruendo silenció a la reina, como si el destino se hubiese ofendido ante la idea de que intentaran burlarlo. Para enfatizar, un humo negro y espeso comenzó a brotar rápidamente desde el círculo dibujado y a esparcirse por el piso a sus pies. Una lúgubre figura se elevó en el centro de la habitación. Todavía difuso, el espectro abrió los ojos, mirando a todas y a ninguna parte. Finalmente hizo una pregunta que resonó en las paredes vacías.

—Una vez más me han convocado, ¿Quién es el vástago a quién la fecha ha alcanzado?

Escapando del trance y la impresión, uno de los sabios se ubicó tras Francisco para instarlo a responder, pero el joven estaba demasiado conmocionado como para emitir sonido alguno, más cuando el repentino movimiento guió la atención de la sombra sobre él. Nadie se había molestado en advertirles sobre cómo se desarrollaría la ceremonia. Tan acostumbrados a que todo saliera de acuerdo al plan, se esperaba que para ese entonces estaría partiendo a su gira de luna de miel y solo los eruditos tendrían que presenciar el rito.

—El príncipe Francisco de la casa de Burgos, en este día glorioso ha cumplido los veintiún años, y se presenta ante su merced para cumplir con el destino encomendado. —Habló el hombre que se mantenía escondido detrás de Francisco.

—Entiendo y aguardaré al siguiente... ¡Espera! ¡¿Qué?! —La voz fantasmal se agudizó para esas últimas palabras, haciendo evidente su sorpresa.

—El príncipe ha cumplido los veintiún años y se encuentra ante usted para cumplir con su destino. —Repite el sabio, agregando—. ¿Acepta usted su sacrificio?

Un par de manos enguantadas atravesaron la nube de humo, batiéndola hasta que se disipó lo suficiente para que todos vieran emerger al hombre que se ocultaba del otro lado.

Era un joven moreno, ataviado completamente de negro. Tenía una altura similar a la de Francisco, aunque bastante más enjuto. No se podría decir que era en realidad un hombre impresionante, pero a Francisco le pareció terriblemente imponente mientras se dirigía a su encuentro con una feroz determinación en la mirada.

—¿Realmente está soltero? —Le preguntó directamente.

—A-Así es, mi señor. — Respondió Francisco apenas con un hilo de voz.

—El príncipe está aquí para entregarse voluntariamente y así cumplir con su destino al no estar casado ¿Acepta su sacrificio? —Vuelve a insistir el erudito una vez más.

Francisco se esfuerza por mantener algo de dignidad y no temblar demasiado bajo el escrutinio del otro hombre ¿De qué clase de sacrificio se suponía que estaban hablando? ¿Qué pasaría si no lo aceptaba? En ese momento se esforzaba por recordar las palabras de la historia que había escuchado repetidas en un sinnúmero de ocasiones, pero su cabeza estaba vacía de cualquier cosa que no fuese la mirada severa de aquel extraño.

—Lo acepto. —dijo finalmente, y la tensión en la mandíbula de Francisco se hizo más intensa.

—Entonces procederemos con la ceremonia. Acérquense para enlazar sus manos y sellar esta unión.

—… ¿Qué? —La pregunta escapó de la boca de Francisco un instante antes que de la de sus hermanas.

—¡¿Qué?! —Exclamaron ambas con mucha más intensidad.

—¡¿Matrimonio?! Pero- No puede ser ¡¿Vas a permitirlo?! —Protestaba María a viva voz contra la reina, como si la idea de que se casara con ese hombre fuese peor a que acabara muerto, encerrado en un calabozo, vagando ciego por el mundo, o lo que sea que su hermana estuvo imaginando por el “terrible destino”.

—¡Espera un momento! —Catalina se levantó, deteniendo por un instante al sabio que anudaba sus muñecas con el lazo ceremonial—. Ninguno de ustedes me informó de esto. En ningún escrito se mencionaba…

—La mano de un vástago soltero debe ser entregada en matrimonio para cuando cumpla los veintiún años. Esas son las condiciones. —Recitó el hombre, un frío amenazante en la voz y en sus ojos que congeló a todos en la habitación—. El príncipe admitió estar soltero, así que vendrá conmigo. Impídanlo y verán lo que pasará con su hermoso reino.

Lo cierto era que, en ese momento, a él también le pareció un castigo mucho peor que los otros. Acabar atrapado en manos de un desconocido, el que francamente le aterraba, con toda la incertidumbre de no saber qué esperar.

Mientras repetía mecánicamente los votos que les dictaba el erudito, el rostro del hombre frente a él le aparecía desfigurado, como si la nube oscura hubiera vuelto a cubrirlo, como una ilusión, como un sueño. Francisco deseaba con todas sus fuerzas que está vez sí se tratara de un mal sueño, uno del que lo despertarían en cualquier momento para informarle de la llegada de Miguel y podría contarle esa horrible pesadilla de camino al altar. Podría decirle esos mismos votos al hombre que amaba, en quien había depositado todas sus esperanzas y anhelos.

Pero no fue así. Apenas acabaron con el acelerado rito nupcial el hombre -su marido- se inclinó para dibujar rápidamente un nuevo círculo alrededor de ellos y sus pertenencias. Mientras la niebla los envolvía y el mundo que conocía se esfumaba ante sus ojos, Francisco sintió como todas sus ilusiones de un futuro feliz se desvanecían también.