AN: This fic is written by two people. The odd chapters, such as this one, are written by xXCrimsonBlueXx and the even chapters are written by the Koyama half of KoHachiProductions. Check out their stuff~

We're hoping to incorporate all of the characters, so you'll see a lot of these;

Zoe: Belgium

Lars: Netherlands

Lukas: Norway

Henrick: Germania

Viktor: Romania

Disclaimer: No poseemos nada de la serie Hetalia~

Enjoy~

The revolution would come to be called the war that started it all; a revolution that split apart a great union, one that spread across half the world. Yet the story of the revolution is not our story, ours is the one that came after, the war that ended it all.

Feliks Łukasiewicz felt the weight of his crown, metaphorical and literal. Endorned with old rubies and pearls, colors of his kingdom, it had not been worn in years. And even now, it was only on his head for a brief ceremony. A flaunting of victory.

Feliks pouted and sunk into his seat, trying to remain as kingly as possible while doing so. His father had led their kingdom to victory, passing the throne to his son mere months later. Neither should have lived, Feliks always thought. The Polish royalty were all meant to be killed decades earlier.

"Your highness." A woman curtsied in front of Feliks, pools of red silk curling together, "Or is it majesty?"

"I prefer Feliks." He responded, straining to keep the accent he had picked up out of his voice, "And that's just the proper way of saying I don't know."

She laughed and relaxed. Even with the throne it was apparent she was taller than him. He scowled internally. "Lars sends his apologies he couldn't make it."

Feliks leaned forward, recognizing the name. His tutor had taught him to memorize all royalty's names. "You're the duke's sister!"

"Zoë Lüger, your Majesty."

"Tell your brother I owe him my greatest gratitude. My father told me he was the strongest general on the forefront."

"My apologies, majesty, but I heard your father quote the exact same line to Väinämöinen." Zoë winced at the pronunciation.

Feliks just barely held in a giggle, laughing instead before catching his tutor's eye. "I could probably have you hung for that."

"Probably isn't very certain, your Majesty."

"Likely, then. We have a library for books containing nothing but reasons why people can be hung."

"I'm sorry to be interrupt with a personal matter, but the truth is," Zoë paused, looking down at her feet before back up apologetically, "Lars is set on a marital alliance. I know I have overstepped the boundary long ago, but I still beg of you, please, do not accept it." She frowned and curtsied deeply again, "Congratulations, your Majesty. May Poland be free forever."

The young king watched wide-eyed as she backed away and flitted anxiously through the crowd.

She hadn't called him Feliks.

"The king is young, the king is strong, and may the Polish stay free long!" Alfred chanted loudly, the bar chorusing after him. He laughed and fell back into his seat, the table now muddy from his boots.

"Long?" Mathias shook his head, "Forever, I say!"

A small Japanese man was between them, and he sighed helplessly at their loud outburst. "Arthur-san will kill you for that." He said, gesturing to the mud, "And on a larger note, you really shouldn't be picking sides right now."

"I'm not picking sides!" Alfred protested, "I'm sure I'll be mopey, depressing and drunk if I go to the union!"

The bar roared with laughter at the insult, and Kiku groaned, "Lukas, can you help me with this?"

Lukas looked through silver hair, rolled his eyes and said coldly, "Don't do anything that will lose us clientele. We've already lost hundreds in the war."

"Maybe, but we also lost almost all competition. And defense! Jobs will come quick, be quick, and give us quid." Alfred chuckled. He was pretty proud of that.

Mathias nodded, but his addition was cut off by a sharp glare. "Oh, come on, Norge! ("Don't call me that.") Don't be so harsh, we're celebrating because we're alive!"

"In other words, because a helpless neutral country asked for your help?" Arthur had come over quietly, and he rolled his eyes at the flamboyant duo. "In fact, you should still be neutral now. Stop this all, then."

"Artie-"

"And you-" Arthur swiftly knocked him onto his chin, growling, "Never stand on my tables with your mud-caked boots again."

Unlike Feliks, Roderich had been shaped into his position. The son of the aging king and queen, his birth had been rejoiced after years of doubt. The Hapsburg, more commonly known as Austrian, Empire had been larger than the new Polish kingdom at its start, but as the Union grew to swallow most of Europe, Austria became a small nation, locked in the middle.

They had stayed neutral in the war, under the guidance of their general. But his advisors were pressuring him to make an alliance with either of the kingdoms in case of a war.

"Not now." Roderich said, facing his advisors, "Not yet."

"She's been gone since before the war," Ludwig protested, "I want him back just as much, more, even, as you, but we can't risk everything for one man!"

Roderich cleared his throat and looked at the German man, "Two men, now. And two of our best, at that."

Another man cleared his throat and Roderich and Ludwig turned to see Vash Zwingli looking at them pointedly. "Why don't we wait until either she comes back-" He noted the flickering relief in Roderich's eyes, "-Or, we haven't heard from her in three weeks."

"One month."

"Twenty-five days."

"Twenty-seven days."

"Twenty-five days."

Roderich sighed, resisting the urge to slouch, "Very well. We'll send a diplomat to improve relations. Even if we do choose to ally with one and not the other, I believe we can act as a buffer until Elizaveta brings him back. And if not, we can at least have a preview of both." Roderich drew his gaze over the table, adding slowly, "Preferably someone of higher rank."

The room was quiet and Roderich silently cursed his words. He should have known not to make the suggestion so soon, especially after the disappearance his two best men. But a simple matter of diplomacy was no need to worry, and nothing so publicized could disappear so easily. "I know I'm asking you for much, but remember, men, thousands of soldiers border our walls every day. Do none of you want a fanfare?"

"I'll go." The tiny voice came from the corner of the room, and Vash looked at the small blond girl in shock. "I know a duchess in Poland. I can go." She pushed a braid behind her shoulder, causing the impression that her hair was shorter than it was.

"Vash?" Roderich asked.

"He has no part in this." Lili smiled at her brother, "I'm merely an envoy, brother, what can happen? I agree with his imperial majesty, and I highly doubt a granduchess can grant even an audience with the king in any manner."

Vash's voice was pleading, desperate, but she cut him off before he could change her mind, "But it's worth the chance, we should gain relations while their kingdom is young." She laughed, "I'm being a coward! We truly need a man in the union."

"I doubt they'll be too happy with a general they've opposed, but I'll have to try." Hendrik said, "Far be it for me to fail at what a girl did before me."

Vash shook his head vehemently, still in shock over his sister's decision, "I'll accompany Lili." He said.

"No. I'm sorry, Vash, but I can't allow that. She'll be escorted with guards and she's admitted to knowing nobility, so there's no need for another noble to go." Roderich gave him a pitying glance, before turning to his sister. "When will you be departing?"

"Whenever you will us to, majesty." Lili replied complacently.

"A week then." Roderich's eyes met with Hendrik's. "You will both leave in a week."

The table nodded and Roderich left first, an exaggerated robe trailing the floor behind him. Other kingdoms scorned his system, a joke of a monarchy. But in the end, Hapsburg had existed as a kingdom for centuries and through wars outnumbering the years, they had yet to fall.

"Has Ivan called us yet?"

Viktor shook his head, baring an inhumane grin. "He's waiting until the treaty has been signed."

"Have you heard yet what it entails?"

"They'll publicize it after it has been signed. I heard besides Warsaw rule it's all a joke by any means."

Elizaveta's eyebrow twitched skyward. Even with the power Diamond had, as an individual member Viktor should not have had the ability to learn the contents of a treaty. "You're not going to tell me what Warsaw rule is, are you?"

Viktor laughed, a sharp bark of disbelief, "Well if the jack found out, surely so can the ace?" He smiled, saying, "Ivan has no reason not to trust you, has he?"

"None." Elizaveta snapped, narrowing her eyes, "Yet considering he hasn't called for us, you shouldn't know either."

"Natalia told me. Seems he needs his consul more than his guard."

Elizaveta nodded, a shadow of hair brushing her shoulders. She pulled it tighter into its string, and let the tail fall in her back. "To be completely truthful, I'm rather surprised he's spoken to anyone."

"Mutiny by a child king."

"Is that what people call him? Ivan took the throne at a younger age."

"And he waited to gain loyalty before ambitions." Viktor continued, defensive over the man who had raised him.

"And look at what that did to him! Half the loyalty went away after his implications were realized!" Elizaveta's voice went dangerously high and she quickly caught herself, going silent as her breath grew heavy. More loose hair fluttered into her eyes and she cursed her inability to style it back.

"Why do you even have that? It's useless." Viktor said calmly.

"Common sense is very useful, thank you."

"Your hair, I mean. It will only hurt you in battle."

She looked at him warily, worry not having ceased despite months of deceit. "And yet I'm of higher rank than you." She replied, feigning placidity.

Viktor rolled his eyes, both glittering hazel, though they seemed to verge on red, "Natalia's of higher rank than both of us, but only because she's the only girl. And I've never even seen Gilbert fight. These ranks are a joke."

"Really? I quite like them."

Viktor raised an eyebrow and she smiled pleasantly. His quest for the perfect scathing remark ended abruptly at the aforementioned queen's appearance.

Natalia Braginskaya had long, pure white hair to the waist, but unlike Elizaveta she did not tie it back. Rather, she fought with it, glinting like her knives as she spun and attacked. In contrast to her suitably princess-like appearance, her voice was gruff and deep, yet she rarely used it. "Viktor, Erzovet." She said quietly, "Where is Gilbert?" Her speech was more refined, eloquent, a factor that came with her raising.

"I suppose his bedroom, as always." Elizaveta said.

"Would you wake him? My brother says it is in ill form for a lady to go in a man's room. And I could never disobey my dear brother." The words seemed strange with her rough tone.

"Of course, m'lady." She left the room, trudging heavily to the Prussian's room, leaving Viktor and Natalia on their own.

"Will you still not tell me about Warsaw rule?"

"Brother will tell everyone once the treaty is signed. No sooner, he said when I asked him." She tilted her head, mind swarming the usual suspicion she felt when she walked into the quarters. "He shall likely call us in the day."

"Should we be prepared?"

Natalia wet her lips, warily glancing at the hallway Elizaveta had disappeared to. "The court are all suggesting Ivan sign the treaty, but he had been refusing. It's likely he will call us for military advice. What is Erzovet doing?"

As if on cue Elizaveta walked in. Beside her a yawning albino strolled in, wearing simply a loose white tunic and thin pants. He paused to bow to the affronted Natalia, grinning cheekily, "Pardon I couldn't be more suitably dressed, your royalness. I was recently accosted in my sleep."

Elizaveta snorted, before noting the glare and apologizing to Natalia. She eyed the waking Prussian, finally saying, "We believe Ivan will call for us soon. We can't leave without our 'king'."

"At last... well, let's not idle, everyone out." They assembled a few minutes later, dressed as they were always asked for, useless battle clothes flitting in the wind. The harsh weather mocked their long fur coats and bit their skin, the smell of pine making their noses sting. Their cabin bared the border of the forest, and in the distance you could barely see the glint from the palace in Moscow. "I know we're meant to be discreet, but it's hell to get there."

Far from the kingdoms of Poland, Hapsburg and Russia, a middle-eastern king was sleeping. He barely felt the brush across his face, an Egyptian guard arguing quietly with a woman. It was three years before Poland would revolt, and Elizaveta still dressed as the queen she was, long brown hair ornate with diamond butterflies.

"We need his help, Hassan. The Union is swallowing us whole." She pleaded quietly, green eyes wide with fear.

There was a rustling of pillows and Gupta held a finger up, padding into the room with silent feet. He saw the young prince clutching his father, having turned in his sleep. It seemed he worried needlessly, and he breathed a sigh of relief that was quickly refuted.

"We'll help them." Sadiq Adnan said roughly, his voice tingled with curiosity. "As long as Elizaveta will accept the consequences."

AN: Hopefully updates will stay constant

Review any questions, comments and suggestions~ :D