Title: A Song for the Silent
Genre: Drama/Romance
Rating: T
Summary: He was broken, but not beyond repair. He eased her loneliness with his music and she healed him with her love. A song doesn't always have to end when the keys stop moving. Austria/Hungary. AU.
Pairings: Austria/Hungary, Spain/Romano, Spain/Austria (implied), Prussia/France
A/N: Nothing much to say except I really enjoy writing AusHun fics set in WWII. For this one I wasn't sure whether or not German soldier got leave (I actually don't think they did), but for the sake of this story, assume that they get leave. Also, this was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but turned into a three-shot. Let's hope it doesn't go further than that ;)
Please enjoy~
Extra Note: I used Elizaveta in Traveling Soldier, but I'm going to use Elizabeta here. Again, read what you will.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, but I do own this story
A Song for the Silent
The First Song
If Elizabeta had known that the train was going to be late, she would have worn her gloves. Instead she stood on the crowded platform breathing heavily on her bright red fingers, ignoring the disproving glances from the woman next to her. Before the war, her stockings would have been made of the thickest wool, but now only a thin layer of material separated her legs from the below zero temperatures. She shifted quickly from foot to foot, attempting to bring circulation back to her body and stamped her boots for added measure, almost smirking as the scowling woman wrinkled her nose and fully turned away.
Of all the days for the train to be late, Elizabeta thought angrily. And of all the days for a blizzard…
A murmur suddenly rose up from the crowd as a plume of gray smoke appeared over the hill followed soon by the sight of a gleaming black engine that stood starkly out against the falling white snow. A cheer rose up from the crowd and Elizabeta could barely keep herself from running down the tracks as she joined in, although the sound of her voice was hardly audible in the cacophony of elated cries.
What was only a few minutes seemed like hours as every person on the platform waited—some in fear, others in furious excitement—for the train to pull into the station. It had not even come to a full stop before the crowd rushed forward, the angry yells of the station master unheard as the first car door slid open. There was a loud silence in the station as a hundred pairs of eyes watched the dark opening, waiting for the first passenger to descend.
There was sharp intake of breath as the sound of footsteps approached the door. The poor boy who stepped down from the train car nearly jumped back in fright at the booming cheer that accompanied his arrival.
The boys were back. At least for some time…
They stepped off the train one by one into the arms of the crowd that greedily took them in. Elizabeta stood on her toes and craned her neck to see above the heads and waving hands. There were only two people on that train that she cared about.
She didn't have to wait long. When the first stepped off the train, it was, unfortunately, with his usual "unique" flourish.
"No need to worry your little heads anymore, people. Gilbert Beilschmidt is back!" Despite her excitement, Elizabeta groaned, although the crowd cheered. Gilbert posed in front of the train car doorway, the sunlight reflecting off his silver colored hair and only adding to the dramatic image.
"Now I know how much you all missed me—please no tears, darling—but who can really blame you? What's this town without me?"
The crowd cheered again and Gilbert jumped happily into the fray of waving arms. When his brother stepped off the train a few seconds later, he only shook his head at his brother who was now being lifted into the air by the overjoyed people.
"Ludwig! Gilbert!" Elizabeta screamed, although it was just then that a large gust of wind blew into the station, sending Elizabeta's words back at her. She cursed loudly as she readjusted her hat that had been knocked askew. Looking back up she was shocked to discover that both men had disappeared from sight and the crowd was moving eagerly to the next train car. She glanced furtively around the station but there was no sign of Gilbert's tell-a-tale white shock of hair and it would be never-ending game to discern Ludwig's bright yellow among the countless blond heads. Swearing underneath her breath, Elizabeta prepared herself to push through the crowd, intent on reaching higher ground, but was stopped by an arm on her shoulder.
"Hey sweetie, you look kind of lost. Maybe I can help you out." Came the suggestive voice from behind.
Of all the days…Clenching her hand into a tight fist, Elizabeta whirled around, fully ready to deliver her response until she met a pair of mischievous looking red eyes.
Although the desire to inflict pain on an idiotic pervert had vanished from her thoughts, in her shock, Elizabeta's fist kept moving, colliding with Gilbert's cheek and sending him stumbling back.
He swore as he struggled to regain his balance and clutched his face. "What the hell? What was that for?"
Elizabeta didn't know whether to hug him or scream at him, she was too shocked to do anything but stare as he angrily rubbed his reddening cheek.
"That's what you get for trying to sneak up on her." Ludwig stood next to her brother, looking at him with a disproving look. When he turned to Elizabeta, the frown had softened, although to say he was smiling would still be an exaggeration.
"I'm sorry about that Eliza—mph!"
It took only a step and a leap for Elizabeta to throw her arms around Ludwig. She felt him stiffen in surprise then relax slightly in her embrace.
"I missed you so much." She said softly.
"It's good to see you too" He replied, the embarrassment obvious in his voice.
"So I get punched in the face and he gets a hug?" Gilbert said, his face twisted into something between a pout and a sneer.
Elizabeta released her grip on Ludwig and turned to him frowning.
"I should hit you again for pulling a stupid stunt like that!" She snapped. She moved towards him and he flinched, taking a step backwards as she reached out.
Unlike his sensible brother, Gilbert never wore gloves so his hand was only slightly warmer than Elizabeta's as she gripped it tightly. She met his eyes and smiled.
"Welcome home Gilbert." She reached out and took Ludwig's hand and glanced between them both—the warm feeling in her chest expanding despite the frigid weather.
"Welcome home, both of you." She said.
"So how long will you be staying?" Elizabeta asked as she opened the door to the small, but warm apartment. As it was a special occasion, she had set up a small fire in the fireplace before she had left, deciding for once to ignore the ration on firewood.
"A week." Ludwig said, stamping his booted feet on the welcome mat before slipping the boots off and arraigning them neatly by the door. He took both his and his brother's bags—Gilbert had dropped his at the bottom of the stairs in his excitement to reach the apartment—to their respective rooms before returning to the living room.
Elizabeta felt her heart sink. "Only a week?"
"That's what I said." Gilbert chimed in as he moved past his brother, dropping into the nearest couch, his snow covered boots still firmly in place. "How dare they give me such a short leave? I deserve at least 3 weeks."
Elizabeta scowled at him. "The only thing you deserve is a kick in the head. There is snow all over my just cleaned carpet. Take those boots off now!"
Gilbert made a face. "Still as grumpy as ever." Suddenly he smirked. "It's because you missed me so much, right?"
"I'm going to show you just how much I missed you if you don't take those boots off now." She threatened.
"But they keep my feet so warm!" Gilbert whined.
"Now!"
"Fine. Fine." Gilbert muttered, unlacing the boots and throwing them casually over his shoulder once they were off.
"Happy?" He asked.
Elizabeta bit her lip to hold back the insult that was on the tip of her tongue. The two brothers had only been back for less than an hour. There would be plenty of time to yell at Gilbert later.
"No." She said as she strode out of the room into one of the adjacent bedrooms.
"Wait! What did I do?" Gilbert asked, looking at Ludwig for an explanation.
"What you always do." Ludwig said shaking his head.
"So a good thing?"
"No."
"Look who's been waiting to see you two." Elizabeta called as she came out of the bedroom with a large cage in her hands. Within the cage was a small yellow bird that bounced off the walls excitedly, chirping so loud that it could only be described as very happy.
"Gilbird!" Gilbert jumped up from his seat to crouch in front of the cage. If the bird had been happy before, it was ecstatic now; flying into the bars with such a force that Elizabeta had to tighten her grip on the cage.
"Did he miss me?" He asked.
"He's been miserable." Elizabeta admitted, although she spoke more for herself than the bird. "I wanted to bring him to the station, but I didn't want the poor thing to freeze."
"Well I'm back now, buddy so more feeling sad, OK?" Gilbert opened the cage and was instantly hit in the face by the fluffy yellow bird. Elizabeta couldn't help but smiled as the bird flew happily around Gilbert. It flew once around Ludwig—who regarded it with a slightly pleased look—before settling onto Gilbert's head.
"I still don't understand why that bird chose you of all people." Elizabeta said.
Childishly, Gilbert stuck his tongue out at her. "You're just jealous that you don't have a cute little bird who likes to sleep on your head."
She rolled her eyes. "Because that's my greatest wish in the world. A fuzzy ball of fluff sitting on my head all day."
Gilbird chirped at her with an obviously offended tone. She winced.
"Sorry Gilbird."
"You horrid woman. Insulting my Gilbird like that." Gilbert frowned at her.
"I didn't mean to insult him!" Elizabeta protested.
"I'm sure," Gilbert said sarcastically. He turned back towards the couch, carefully settling back onto it so that Gilbird did not tumble off.
"So where are we going tonight?" He asked once comfortable.
"But you just got back!" Elizabeta was shocked. "Don't you even want to rest a little?"
"She's right, brother." Ludwig said. "And even if you're not tired, I am. That was a very long train ride." He started towards the kitchen. "Do you still keep the towels in the top cupboard Elizabeta?"
She smiled at him. "Oh, don't worry yourself Ludwig. Gilbert will take care of his mess."
"I will?"
"Do you want me to get out the frying pan?"
"…Where are those towels again?"
"That's a good boy. Top cupboard."
"I can't believe you're making me work. I just got back!" Gilbert grumbled as he stood up from the couch for a second time. Gilbird chirped in indignation, agreeing with his master.
"You just said you wanted to go out tonight!"
"And I still do!" Gilbert shouted from the kitchen. When he came out he had two towels clutched in his hands. "We have only a week here and I don't intend to waste a single night."
"Where would we even go?" Elizabeta asked. "Most places are closed now that there's no one there to work."
"How about ‚Den goldenen Fuß'*?" Gilbert asked as he bent down to wipe up the first of his now melted snow prints.
Elizabeta thought for a second. "Actually, I think they might be still open. Except I think they close Monday and Wednesday."
"Well today's Friday so that's no problem for us at all." Gilbert said cheerfully.
"I don't want to go." Ludwig said.
"Why do you always have to be such a bore, West?" Gilbert said, using the old nickname.
"He's sensible. Something you're not." Elizabeta shot back. "You should spend the rest of today relaxing. We can go out tomorrow."
"But that's not awesome at all! And tomorrow you're going to say exactly the same thing or some other stupid excuse." He clasped his hands together next to his cheek in a display of mock distress and his voice went up an octave as he spoke in what was apparently supposed to be an imitation of Elizabeta. "Oh Gilbert you sexy, handsome, man you, although I don't know how I can resist your irresistible charm and charisma, we cannot go out tonight because Ludwig has lady cramps."
Although he was tempted to let her do as she will, Ludwig still placed a light, but firm hand on Elizabeta's shoulder to prevent her from jumping onto Gilbert at that moment. The tenants of the small building had enough trouble in their life without having to deal with screams of pain.
"And the next night will be the same thing until a week has gone by and the only thing I would have seen will be these four walls." Gilbert's voice reverted to its usual obnoxious drawl, but faltered slightly as he continued, the previous cheerfulness falling away. "And then it will be back to the front…"
Ludwig felt Elizabeta's shoulders sag beneath his grip. He sighed because he knew what was coming and knew that he would agree.
"…Fine." She said. When she turned to him she had her best smile in place. "Gilbert's right. We can't waste a second of our time together."
Ludwig nodded. "I agree."
"HELL YEAH!" Gilbert jumped in the air, the towels falling onto the floor. Startled and displaced, Gilbird flew back to his cage, deciding it would probably be best to stay there for now.
Gilbert grabbed his jacket and his boots were still unlaced as he ran out the door saying something about "getting beer before tonight" over his shoulder.
"He never remembers to put anything away." Ludwig said. He glanced at Elizabeta to find that the smile had slid off her face, her green eyes dark and clouded.
"Elizabeta?"
She started as if she had forgotten that she wasn't alone. "Oh, sorry. I was...thinking about something else. I'll take care of the mess."
She picked up the discarded wet towels to take them back to kitchen.
"You can talk to me if you would like." Ludwig felt his cheeks heat up as Elizabeta turned to him. He was never good at expressing himself or conversing comfortably with others but after seeing someone that sad, you couldn't just let them go without offering your help—especially if that person was as close as a sister.
"If you ever need to." He mumbled.
"Thank you Ludwig." She gave him a small smile. "And I'm glad to have you back."
The line to ‚Den goldenen Fuß'was longer than Elizabeta had anticipated, but when she thought about it, it wasn't particularly surprising. Tonight was a night of celebration and most people seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Gilbert. Time was short and they didn't intend to waste a second of it.
The music from the club drifted out into the cold night and Elizabeta couldn't help but tap her foot to the beat. ‚Den goldenen Fuß'played a wide variety of music but was most noted for their 1920s American style jazz and fast paced swing dances. Before the war Elizabeta had rarely been there and most people—including herself—did not particularly approve of the music style, but it was not music that they were at war with so complaints were minimal.
"This is going to be awesome." Gilbert said grinning as they stepped into the warm dance hall. Elizabeta had barely removed her jacket before he grabbed her hand, giving her barely enough time to hand it over to the attendant before she was pulled onto the dance floor.
"Who said I wanted to dance with you?" Although she wasn't familiar with the song, she knew the style and the steps came easy to her.
"So you would rather dance with West? You know he has two left feet." They moved perfectly in sync. For someone as loud and boorish as he was, Gilbert was extremely at ease on the dance floor. Each step was smooth and fluid like he didn't even have to think about it.
"At least he's a gentleman." The music hit a crescendo and Gilbert dipped her dramatically. She could barely repress a shiver at the close proximity of their faces.
"Yes, but he's not me." He pulled her back up and spun her before she could reply. Neither of them spoke anymore as they moved until one dance had become three and Elizabeta was sweating in the most unladylike manner.
"Break. Now." She gasped, although she was grinning widely.
"You're no fun." Gilbert said, but led her to the table where Ludwig had been sitting stoically. So far he had turned down all offers to dance, however, the ladies in the club—most who had not seen a fit man under the age of 65 in months—were not giving up without a fight.
"Don't tell me you're going to sit here all night, West." Gilbert said as Elizabeta dropped into a chair.
"I'm comfortable where I am." Ludwig said, before taking a sip of the beer in hand.
"If you don't dance with at least one person tonight, I'll dance with you." Gilbert laughed at the horrified look on his brothers face, although to Elizabeta, the idea of two men moving together in something as personal and…sensual as dancing was quite…exhilarating.
"Would you like me to order you a drink Elizabeta? You're looking quite red." Ludwig motioned to a passing waiter.
"Ah, y-yes! A water would be great. Thanks." She grabbed a napkin of the table and fanned herself to cool down not only her body but her thoughts.
"If we could have your attention ladies and gentlemen." The music had stopped as the band leader took the microphone. He made a motion and the lights in the dance hall suddenly dimmed until a single spotlight was fixed on him. "We have a very special guest tonight. "
"Hitler?" Gilbert hissed as he sat down. Elizabeta elbowed him in the face.
"Please put your hands together for Mr. Roderich Edelstein."
The name was not familiar to Elizabeta, but she joined in the applause as a young man in a wheelchair was brought out and wheeled towards the grand piano that had been placed in the center of the dance floor.
"What's all the fuss about?" Gilbert whispered, rubbing his nose. "He's just some brat. Looks kind of prissy from here too."
"Do you want me to hit you again?" Elizabeta snapped.
"I'm just making a point! Do you know him?"
"No, but he's obviously someone of importance."
Gilbert snorted. "He's probably just the nephew of the club owner of something like that."
Elizabeta opened her mouth to reply but was silenced as the applause faded away and the first notes drifted up from the piano.
It didn't take her long to realize that this was no ordinary pianist—nephew of the owner or not. Even Gilbert stopped his snide comments.
The first word that came to mind was "beautiful" but Elizabeta quickly decided that that was not appropriate at all. The music was not beautiful or soothing, it was real. This was no musician playing for fee or simple entertainment. This was a man playing because it was his life. Elizabeta did not consider herself an expert of music, but the emotion was there, in every note, in every chord—the accents were like a knife to her heart as the haunting melody drew out all the pain and sadness she had tried so hard to keep inside.
This man knew suffering and despair. It was entwined tightly within the music and its ripple effect on the audience was a deep reflection of one's own life. Elizabeta thought of the endless days where she sat shivering in front of the cold fireplace, wondering if she was doomed to that lonely existence. Would the war ever end? Would her boys come home safe? Would there be time for peace and happiness? A time for love? During those times her thoughts were engulfed in a void of darkness where no light could shine.
To her right, Ludwig stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tightly and his face shockingly pale. She could not begin to imagine the horrors that he had seen. He never spoke of them but she heard the screams at night from the nightmares and sometimes when he didn't know that she was watching his eyes would go dark and distant as if he was looking at something that no one else could see except him and it was the most terrifying thing in the world.
To her left, Gilbert cried freely, although Elizabeta didn't know if he was aware that he did. If Ludwig hid his pain with his silence, then Gilbert hid his with his loudness. In the end, the three of them were all victims of the cruelest of fates, each cursed to suffer on their own because of stubborn pride. However, for that moment, as the music played, the carefully constructed facades fell away, revealing the dark secrets within.
But when it ended and the lights came back up, the masks were back in place and Gilbert's eyes were only red.
"What was that?" He asked, his voice heavy with emotion.
"Truth." Elizabeta said softly and no one spoke because they all knew that she was right.
"Hurry up, Elizabeta. They're closing up and I want to see if any of the bars are still open."
"You have to be joking." Ludwig said as he returned with their coats. Gilbert snatched his and swung it over his shoulder. After another hour of dancing, he was still too warm to put it back on.
"Does this look like the face of a jokester, West?"
"You two go ahead. I can meet you at home." Elizabeta cut in before Ludwig could respond. "I want to talk to the pianist."
"Why would you want to do that? He bored us all to death with that terrible music and he looks like something crawled up his—" Gilbert was silenced by a swift backhand to the head. He fell to his knees, wailing in pain as Ludwig turned to Elizabeta.
"We'll wait here." He said.
"Are you sure? I don't want to stop you two from having a good time." From his spot on the floor, Gilbert whimpered. They both ignored him.
"It's no problem. We'll wait."
"It should only take a few minutes. I'll be right back." Elizabeta called over her shoulder. As she stepped into the now silent dance hall, she was surprised to see that it was not deserted as she had originally thought. And not as silent either.
The piano had not been moved from its spot and the pianist sat behind it, his fingers moving gracefully across the keys as he played a soft melody that was nothing like the heartbreaking piece from before. She must have made some sort of noise because he suddenly stopped and fixed her with an icy glare.
"The dance hall is closed for tonight." His voice was just as cold.
Elizabeta tried not to let this deter her as she stepped forward. On closer inspection she saw that he was very handsome, despite the angry look on his face. His eyes were the most unusual color and she didn't realize she was staring until he spoke again, his voice even angrier.
"I said we're closed."
Elizabeta blushed. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but I had to tell you that that song you played tonight was the most amazing thing I've ever heard. Actually, amazing doesn't even do it justice. It was…life changing."
Instead of looking pleased or even humbled by her praise, the pianist's eyes narrowed and he turned back to the piano to gather together the sheets of music.
"Whatever was promised to you for performing this little act must have been very nice. I've never met such an enthusiastic liar."
Elizabeta felt her jaw drop. "E-Excuse me?" It almost felt as if she had been slapped.
The pianist continued to pack up his music. "I don't know what your intentions are but I suggest you leave now. I'm not in the mood to play any little games tonight."
"Now you look here," Elizabeta said angrily. The pianist paused his movements and looked at her and once again she was taken aback by the intensity of the anger in his eyes. "I don't know what exactly you think I came here to do, but whatever it is, you are obviously mistaken. I only came back here to give you my gratitude and appreciation."
"And so you have. Are you done yet?"
Elizabeta felt another spike in her anger. "No, I am not because this is honestly not the kind of response I expected."
The man almost looked amused. "What did you expect? Me to grovel at your feet like a dog who has just received a bone from his owner? I do not need your appreciation, Miss. Save your breath and leave."
Elizabeta exploded. "Just who do you think you are? How dare you be so rude and insulting?"
The pianist frowned. "I'm rude? You are the one who is screaming at a man who you supposedly came to compliment."
Despite herself, she lowered her voice and continued, "What is wrong with you? How can you act so cruelly to someone who only came to pay their respects? Is this how you are with everyone?"
Again, the pianist almost looked amused as his mouth twisted into a half smile that was more like a sneer. "There are some people who find humor in making sport of a cripple. They come here to pay their "respects", which are in fact, not very respectful at all."
Elizabeta felt all her anger suddenly dissipate. "I-I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't. We have just met." He slid the sheets of music into a worn folder and made a motion to slide the cover over the piano keys.
"Please don't" Elizabeta said. Surprised by her request, the pianist paused. "Please believe that I didn't come here to insult or humiliate you. I came because…I understand the song. And I was hoping you would play it again."
There was a long silence before the pianist turned to her, the anger in his face now replaced by faint curiosity. "Is that so?" He didn't ask what she thought the song meant. Maybe because he didn't care or perhaps because he already knew her answer. In the end it was just a question to be saved for another time and another place.
"If it's not too much trouble."
The sheets of music were pulled out from the folder, arraigned back in place and for the second time that night Elizabeta didn't feel the need to hide her pain. She had never felt so free in her life.
"If…if you would like. I can play for you again tomorrow night. Just for you." Elizabeta was surprised to see the faint pink color on his cheeks as the pianist packed up the music for a second time.
"You would do that?"
"Yes."
Elizabeta beamed. "Then I will definitely be here. Thank you so much Mr. Edelstein."
"Please, just Roderich is fine."
"Roderich." It sounded…nice as she said it.
"And you have not told me your name."
"Elizabeta. Elizabeta Hédeváry. Thank you. For everything."
"So I will see you tomorrow?"
"I will be here."
And as the introduction and first movement came to a close, the two parties couldn't help but wonder how the next one would play out.
*The Golden Foot
A/N: So what's the verdict? Shall I continue? I'm enjoying writing the story.
Comments, critiques, anything except death threats are loved.
with love
-dancer