"Damn it all," he swore, kicking a pebble out of the road as his little yellow bird flew in circles above his head. What was going on, it was as though the world had completely tipped upside-down and left him in this state of limbo! And seriously: WHAT WAS WITH THE DRESS! Yeah, she looked nice and all, but that just wasn't her! Who was that damned aristocrat to make her dress like a housewife? She should be in a pair of pants with a bow in her grasp and a cocked arrow, that concentration and determination burning in her green eyes; challenging any idiot to make a move; that idiot usually being himself.
He looked up angrily to Gilbird, "This is so not awesome! What the hell did that pansy do to her to make her so docile!" She looked all motherly, or even big sister-like. He hated it. It didn't correspond in his mind, the place in his memories where Hungary once fit was now empty and no matter how hard he tried to place this new Elizabeta in that place, it refused to match. Who was that guy she was living with anyway! He heard talk from those around him, France especially, about how much of total pushover the guy was. How did he ever take over that wild child?
He found himself back at his own home, no game to bring to his place today. For some reason he didn't feel like walking into his little home, a feeling of being lost settling in his chest. He walked pass the cottage to the river that lazily flowed by, he could see the glimmer of small fish darting this way and that under the calm surface. He looked deeply into his own reflection, frowning as his brow turned up in confusion. Why did he suddenly feel so old?
He paused in the march, the other Knights careful to move around him, almost as an instinct. They all looked out for each other as a brotherhood after all, and just because he was only thigh-high, that didn't make him any less of the group. It had taken them a while to recognize him as a worthy Knight. They had been walking for months after being removed from Jerusalem, not that they were going to complain about that, if the chosen people wanted them out, they really couldn't refuse. Now he stood upon this foreign land he never knew, but felt as though it was home. The men were from Germanic descent which originated in this place called Europe, as such, this was his home too. He breathed in the peculiarly familiar scent as he continued on, following his people wherever they go.
The land was beautiful, that was the least he could say. The climate was definitely different from the weather patterns of the Holy City. There were people as well, going over their daily lives, glancing towards the strangers as they passed. He could smell the foods they cooked, his stomach growling in want. Always being on the road and surrounded by men, he had never experienced what they called a home-cooked meal. Nor did he really understand the term "The love of a woman is in her dish" until he sniffed out the bread cooling on a windowsill. He could almost taste the care that went into the kneading of the dough and the tenderness of a mother as she planned to give it to her children. Oh how he wished he could take just a bite.
He knew stealing was wrong, he wasn't THAT stupid, and being raised under the Good Book of Christ the Lord, he knew God would be angry with him. Despite all these reminders, his ruby eyes gazed upon the bread until he had a lust for it. There was nothing he could want more in the world than that loaf of bread. Quickly scanning the area, he went to snatch the baked dough, his small fingers just inches away.
"Don't even think about it kid," an intimidating voice snapped from the right of his persons. Damn it, he should have known God wouldn't let him take what wasn't his. He sighed and dropped his arms, sending a contemptuous gaze at the person who had stopped him. A boy with dark green eyes and long dun-coloured hair with the strands pulled back in a ribbon glared at him. He wore an emerald tunic and cream leggings with knee-high boots. His cheeks were a healthy red from hard work, and his skin evenly tan as he stared the albino down with an intimidating gaze. "Who are you anyway? I haven't ever seen you before."
Gilbert puffed up his cheeks ignited, everyone knew about him! "I'm the Holy Order of the Teutonic Knights! How can you not have heard of my awesomeness you dummy!"
"Oh, you're that rag-tag bunch of mercenaries I hear are trudging their way West. You got kicked out of Jerusalem for some reason or another."
"They don't believe in the Lord," Gilbert huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "For being the Chosen Peoples, they sure are stupid."
The boy stared at him intently before the courner of his lips twitched up into a conniving grin, "You fight for money, don't ya? That's what I hear anyway."The brunette folded his arms thoughtfully, the smile showing through despite his childish efforts to conceal it, "I hear you're damn good as well. Also you hate those who deny your Lord, don't you?"
"Well duh," Gilbert frowned, still pouting, his bottom lip protruding, "What do you want, just get on with it."Suddenly his stomach growled a monstrous roar, his paper white cheeks flaring an embarrassed red.
The boy with green eyes laughed, "You're no good to me on an empty stomach. Come on, I'll feed you."
Gilbert sighed, his tiny belly bloated with food as he reclined in his chair. That was the best meal he had in a long time, so long he couldn't remember better. Over the meal he had gathered some information: (1) the boy who kept him from sin was a country called Hungary, much like how he was the Order of Teutonic Knights, (2) Hungary had totally awesome food, which he was stuffed fat with, and (3) he was at war with a country who wanted some land or something.
"I want you to defend Burzenland from the Cumans, we'll even pay you for the trouble," Hungary announced, starting off on a long speech. Fuck the talk-talk, time to get to the fighting and total own-age by the Awesome HIM!
"I'm on it, be back in a moment!" he called, running off.
Hungary reached out to him, but the hyperactive albino was already gone. "Jeeze . . . I hope that brat is going to be alright. He didn't listen to a thing I said . . ."
While Hungary mused, the Teutonic Order was already sending the invaders running. Gilbert held up his sword to the sky and laughed obnoxiously loud, "Who is the most awesome guy around? I am! And I'm here-."
"Gilbert!" one of the Knights called.
The boy groaned, his arm falling as he looked back to the man, "You just ruined my awesome speech. This had better be good."
"Eh, sorry, but did you not notice the lands we defended? It is fertile and green, why don't we take this place rather than money from Hungary?"
Gilbert looked around and noted that, yeah, this place really was pretty. And the thought of settling down sounded real nice at the minute. Being born and raised on the march was a hard life, and to sit down, build a house, make a town; it all sounded like a 'Happily-Ever-After' sort of thing. He sheathed his sword and smirked, yes, he'd totally take this place.
"I HAVE RETURNED VICTORIOUS!" a voice on the wind shouted. Hungary stiffened, HE HAD ONLY BEEN GONE TEN MINUTES! What . . . the . . . hell!
"You work too fricken fast!"
"And as my due reward," Gilbert announced, beaming, "I now take Burzenland!"
He pulled the thirteenth arrow from his battered body as blood trickled from his broken nose. Okay, that hurt a lot. Note-to-self, Hungary has a nasty temper and was not afraid to use it. He whimpered like a kicked puppy as a splinter dug into his finger. THIS WAS JUST TOO CRUEL!
'God,' he thought, holding back the tears as he ignored the dull throb in his finger and pulled out the remaining two arrowheads, 'Was this really what you wanted from me!'
Good times, that was for sure. He smirked at the memories, his fierce gaze becoming softer around the edges. When he thought Hungary was a boy, he had always seen them as equals with a lot alike. His eyes widened in surprise, 'had'! He still saw Hungary as an equal; why else would he ask her to go hunting? Why else would he find the skirts of a woman a disgrace to her?
Then again, she did change a little inside his mind . . . after that day.
Gilbert was walking around the perimeter when he heard the sounds of what could be none other than some kind of dying animal. Since he was getting bigger, the hormonal imbalances that controlled commonsense were on the fritz so he was all for hunting down the suffering creature. He traced the growls to the other side of the wall and peeked around, hoping to find a bear or something, but no. It was only stupid Hungary groaning to himself as his arms crossed his chest.
The albino cackled as he sauntered out into the open, his white cape trailing behind in the summer breeze and hand propped on his hip, "Yo! You look like shit! Was t that Turkey guy? He beat you up again? Honestly, you can't get by without the awesomeness that is me."
Hungary glared weak daggers at him, subtly massaging his breast with his folded arms, "Hell, it's you. Get outta my sight, I've got issues!"
"Issues," the red-eyed boy giggled behind his hand, "Then why not go ask the king? Isn't he lavished with money?"
"Shut up! I have my dignity too! Like hell I'm going to show my weakness so easily!" the brunette shouted, wanting to punch the other boy oh so badly!
The Teutonic Order chuckled and held up his hands in defense before leaning against the wall beside his shorter counterpart. There was a moment f silence, a bird chirped overhead as it swooped by. Red eyed flickered to green and he smiled, attempting to be encouraging but it came out mockingly, "C'mon you can talk to me~."
"I don't wanna. But . . ." Hungary's voice trailed off for a moment, "I suspect I am seriously ill. My chest hurts like whoa these days." He looked down to his feet as another wave of pan hit him until he calmed and sighed, "A throbbing pain. It feels absurd."
"YES! FOUND YOUR WEAK SPOT!" he shouted, grabbing the other country's chest and pinching the tender skin through the thin tunic.
"UWAH! A SURPRISE ATTACK IS SO COWARDLY! I DARE YOU TO MEET ME BEHIND THE CASTLE LATER, YOU!" Hungary shouted, slapping his grubby hands away. Gilbert's laughter died down slowly until his smile disappeared as well. Something . . . wasn't . . . right. He backed away slowly, that chest . . . didn't feel like, well, his chest. And seeing as they were about the same age . . .
"Uhhhhmm . . . . . . Can I ask you one thing?" he asked, turning his back towards the brunette. Hungary tilted his head questioningly, prodding him to continue with a gentle nudges of his arm. Gilbert looked over his shoulder, hands firmly on his hips, "Do . . . you have a penis?"
Hungary blinked a few times before bursting out in laughter, "Hey, hey, what are you saying? Of course I got one! What were you gonna do asking about my penis anyway? You shouldn't worry about little things like THAT! Well my fellow, put yourself at ease!"
"Uh . . ." Gilbert slowly started up in his own laughter, "Y-yeah! Right! Yeah . . . since it would be impossible, no chance! I mean, you couldn't possibly be a woma-."
"Everyone will grow one when they grow up anyway!"
At that moment n his small, childish, insignificant life, he felt what the word traumatized meant. And believe him, it wasn't a feeling one wanted to share.
The laughter echoed in his head as his eyes hardened once more. What was she to him? Why was he so upset about this radical change? It made him angry, his heart would pound against his breast and his face would flush with boiled blood. He knew why he was so angry. He knew why he hated that Austria. He knew why her holding a broom a performing mad-jobs just really pissed him off. It was because that wasn't Hungary.
Not his Hungary anyway.
A/N: This is a present to HotTorchic of deviantart for guessing who Katarine was in Don't Leave Me Here. I don't know how, but this turned into PruHun and I actually kinda like it. I actually succeeded with a straight paring. To those who read all my other stories,I apologize for being absent. I have just been in a horrible slump and now I'm clawing my way back out. I'll update something else soon. I hope you enjoyed~!