There was this stranger.
He came in at rainy days, in the castle, without any permission whatsoever by the guards, but they still let him past.
Hungary didn't know who he was; neither knew how he looked like.
He always wore a long dark jacket and a hat, always in a darker shade than their normal color since he was drenched by rainwater from the outside. He always came on rainy days. She never saw him face to face, but she caught glimpse of him, sometimes, the hem of his dark jacket by the corners, walking by with heavy steps. He was quite tall, a few inches taller than her.
Once, she tried to follow him. He ran away from her, fast too.
That annoyed Hungary more than usual. The stranger, whose presence is almost always in the castle, the man whom the guards have gave their accords to, is avoiding her? For what reasons? She had asked that to the various servants who just gave her a mournful look. They seemed all to know who he was.
Who the hell was he? Why didn't she know who he was?
Hungary decided that that day was the one that she would discover his identity and will capture (?) him once and for all.
Rain was battering down, the sky bleached grey. The rain misted the horizon, the green grass looking grayer than usual. The sound of water echoed outside, drops trickling down the window. Hungary pressed her hands against the glass, mist gathering around her warm fingers. This was the day, if he was going to come.
As if right on cue, a tall man in a billowing black leather duster passed through the courtyard, the guards still ignoring him on his passage. They seemed at the least conformable with his presence. His long strides reaching the castle gates in one minute flat. She ran down the hallway, her dress billowing around her as the fire of the lamps flickered to her passing.
"At this time of the day…" Hungary checked her small silver watch on her wrist, given as a gift by Austria from their marriage."He's going to the garden."
Stuck in the castle almost at all times, she really had no life. Even to monitor a single curious activity was slightly special to her. She ran as hard as she could in the red high heels, lifting the hem of her dress above her knees, the pink laces flitting across her skin, shifting from time to time.
Out of breath, she finally arrived to the back door. It was in a dusty corner, with rats and spider webs which were recently cleared by her, to make her descent faster.
Last time, she had learned the hard way and spent 30 minutes trying to get over her disgust.
Opening the door, with a slight twist of the knob, she creaked it open, poking her head out slowly in the electrified air, a big gust of wind blowing past air, throwing drops of water towards her face. Though they were supposed to be soft and delicate, the drips felt like needles. She closed her eyes and stepped out into the open, the wind dying down momentarily. Even if the wind wasn't hitting her sideways, the rain was still falling hard.
It was hitting the paved ground, overflowing the stones, trickling between her toes, splitting in the way of her heels… She hadn't been standing in the rain for 4 seconds before she became wet from head to toe. Her shoes were full of water. Taking them off with one hand, she threw them inside the castle, which clattered on the stone floor with a splat.
She hoped that it was worth it.
Hungary glimpsed towards the umbrella resting against the marble floor and took it, though she didn't quite need it, since well, she was goddamn drenched already. The brown haired girl stealthily walked over, trying to move as slowly in her burgundy dress, walking across the Garden, on the tip of her toes.
The military hat of the man was visible from where she was, along with his dull grey coat, holes covering the shoulders, and the back. As she gained closer to him, she could see that the jacket was worned out by weather and time. The water didn't quite glisten on his overcoat, though his hat seemed brand new. He was overlooking the same set flowers.
Elizaveta didn't notice quite anything peculiar with them, so it interested her.
One of the things she would have to check.
The girl was quite surprised that the man didn't notice her. It'd been such a long time since she practiced sneaking up on people. Her feet silent slid on the liquid covered pallets of rocks, her feet slowly sinking in, while the water streamed past. Her hands were kept up, with umbrella in hand, to maintain her balance.
"Who's there?" The man uttered, surprising her in the least. His voice seemed rough, like rock on sandpaper. He turned around smoothly, and he saw her. So much for being stealthy. Hungary sighed internally. They both stayed in an short awkward silence before the man spoke again. His voice was slightly trembling."Elizaveta." He whispered.
"How do you know my name?" Hungary responded, touching the wilting pink flower in her hair, an action that she discovered that she did often when she was nervous. Or else, she would've reached for a pan, which was the violent alternative.
The tall man stayed silent for a while, "Well, why not?" The cloaked gentleman answered, putting his clenched fists in his pockets. She was still suspicious, observing the man with her steady green eyes. The stranger had said her name with such familiarity, it seemed like he used it on a regular basis.
She tried to get a good look at his face, but the shadows made his face look unrecognisable. After all, she just couldn't ask if he could take off his hat so she could see his goddamn face a little better. It would be a bit rude, wouldn't it?
"Well, if you know mine, what's yours?" The woman answered back, contrarily to her manners and to what she was formed to do. Something in her gut said that she better be direct about that question.
And her gut was always right.
Overhead, the sky rumbled in the distance. The man fidgeted a bit, as if snapping out of a dream, and strode up to her, stopping right in front of the country, both apparently nervous. "My name is Gilbert." The man said, with a clear tone. "Gilbert Beilschmidt."
Gilbert was a nice fellow. Although he had an odd hair color (and eyes), had a weird obsession as to laugh in a funny "Kesesesesese~" like tone, and even though he loved teasing her, he was also one of the nicest persons she ever met.
He reminded her of someone, but she couldn't remember. It was like something was erased from her memory, wiped clean.
Sometimes, when he though she wasn't looking, his gaze would turn glassy and he would have that weird look. That saddened her immensely; she didn't know why, and it just bugged her as well. It made her feel like crying.
Hungary was sitting next to Gilbert. The greenery around them was blooming, the grass caressing the heels of their bare feet, like if the garden was there for this occasion.
"This is your last day here, isn't it, Gilbert?"
He nodded slowly, and smiled, though it was a uncharacteristically less awesome smile than his usual one.
"Before I go," Gilbert announced, fumbling around in his pocket. "I want to give you this."
Gripping the object that rested within his fist, he levitated it above her hands, hesitating a bit.
Gilbert opened his fist, a pink flower resting in the inside of his pale palm. He slid it on hers. On her hand, it was so light that she barely felt it, if not for the physical evidence. It was a tiny one, with alternating pink flowers in each side, drops of water hanging upon its leaves. "Myosotis?" She said, automatically once she saw the details. In one of her boring states, she began to read most of the books in the library. This one interested her the most, as it often covered the floor of the Garden in summer. It was what he was looking at the day they've met too.
"It's pretty…" It wasn't just only pink, as most myosotis are mostly pale blue and white.
Then she realized the air around her growing cold.
It was the same one that was in her hair.
She took the flower off the corner of her ear and compared both flowers with intense eyes. Gilbert was silently observing her at his turn, his mood growing weary and somber. The German man slowly turned around, knowing that she understood and nodded, like a simple fact, though Hungary knew otherwise. Hungary lowered her arms, her hands trembling. Tears were welling up in her eyes, trying not to make them overflow.
"Hungary! Kesesesesese!~" Prussia ran up to her, with his cape flapping behind him.
"Shut up! Yer gonna scare off the game!" Hungary snapped towards the little boy, gesturing towards him with her bow. "Oh yeah?" He grinned and ran off into the deep in the forest, leaving a big ruckus behind him as the birds fled his path and bucks ran off in the other direction. Hungary sighed, putting her face against her hand, in desperation.
"What was that, Prussia!?"
"Well, the awesome me thought that if I ran them in one direction, it'd be easier to shoot from the opposite side." Hungary couldn't deny that that was a good idea, but extremely foolhardy.
"Geez, that's fine. Jus' explain the plan to me next time." Prussia uttered under his breath, putting his head down, staring at his feet for a moment.
Even the bravest soldier could have a moment of humility. But it didn't take him long to recover, as his head snapped up automatically and his eyes sparkled in happiness, "OH! And, there's something that I have to give ye." The albino boy reached in his pocket and got out a flower.
A simple flower.
"What's that?"
"Dunno. Boss gave it to the awesome me, and said to give it to someone I li-" Prussia stopped in mid sentence, glowed bright red, and continued his phrase, with a new sense of confidence."...to my awesome best friend!"
"What was it for though?" She was pleased that he said that she was his awesome best friend.
"He said that the awesome me would never forget you and you would never forget the awesome me if you put that flower." Prussia put his hands behind his nape, and cocked his head sideways. "Kesesesesesese~ I don't know how you can forget the awesome me but, it's worth tha' shot!"
Hungary poked the flower once, unsure of what to do with it.
"Aw, gimme it!" Prussia took the flower from her hands and put it in her hair, near her ear. "There! Now y'erent gonna forget me!" He grinned and put his fists on his hips, laughing maniacally. In his other fist resided another one, exactly the same as the one near her ear.
"An' the awesome me ain't gonna forget ya either!"
Weeping, tear drops streamed down her eyes. How? Why? Gilbert- no, Prussia- kissed her forehead. He whispered his final words as his hand grew ice cold near her cheek.
Prussia smiled, grinning once again. Arrogance or sadness she did not know.
.
..
..
He faded away, disintegrating in a multitude of bright coloured white flowers, leaving her to cry alone.
"I'm sorry." She said, sobbing away in the hollow sound of the wind. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Hungary repeated the same apology again and again, like if she was calling him back. Like if it was going to change something.
.. . .. .
Alas, he was not heard of again.
In 15th-century Germany, it was supposed that the wearers of the flower would not be forgotten by their lovers. Legend has it that in medieval times, a knight and his lady were walking along the side of a river. He picked a posy of flowers, but because of the weight of his armour he fell into the river. As he was drowning, he threw the posy to his loved one and shouted "forget me not!". It was often worn by ladies as a sign of faithfulness and enduring love.