A/N: A Model United Nations AU. I've wanted to do this ever since I watched the "16 Military Wives" music video by the Decemberists. There's pretty much every pairing known to man in this thing, so I won't list them all here.

The General Assembly

Chapter One: Germany

Ludwig looked around his room one last time, checking to make sure he'd packed everything. Of course he'd packed everything. But that didn't mean he wouldn't check seventeen or so extra times just to make sure.

Finally satisfied he had everything he needed, he brought his suitcase to the kitchen and set it on the floor. His dogs walked up and sniffed it gloomily. Ludwig bent down and ruffled Schatzi's fur. The great German Sheppard whined and licked his hand. Bayrische and Pfoetchen nudged his back, obviously wanting more attention.

"LUDWIG!"

The blond blinked and turned to face his older brother, who was standing in the doorway, hands on his hips and feet planted firmly apart. His silver-blonde hair was standing up all over the place, and his lower lip was wobbling. He had obviously just woken up, even though it was already past noon.

"I can't believe you're leaving without me, asshole! What am I going to do without you?"

"Bother the neighbors," Ludwig returned to petting his dogs. "Like you usually do."

Gilbert crossed his arms.

"Why can't I go?"

"You didn't apply. The spots for German delegates are filled, großer Bruder. Besides, the program is for people who resolve their conflicts by discussing issues. You resolve all of your conflicts by beating people up."

"Why can't I be Prussia, then?" Gilbert sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, scowling. "Prussia's fuckin' awesome."

Ludwig coughed. "Prussia doesn't exist anymore."

"Does too," Gilbert retorted, swinging his legs up onto the table.

"Take care of Schatzi, Bayrische and Pfoetchen while I'm gone," Ludwig ordered, then stood, picked up his suitcase, and walked out the door.

--

Several long flights later, Ludwig found himself on an odd-smelling shuttle to the hotel.

A young man with tousled brown hair and glasses slid into the seat next to him, and held out a hand.

"Hello," he said, in English. "I saw you on the flight over. Are you Germany? I am Austria, but you can call me Roderich."

Ludwig accepted the handshake. "Yes, I represent Germany. My name is Ludwig."

A long sigh from behind them startled the two.

"Like, oh my God?" someone said. "What, like, totally crawled up their butts and died?"

"I know, shh!" giggled a girl's voice. "They can hear you."

"Yes," said Ludwig. "Yes, we can."

Two people slowly, guiltily, poked their heads up over his seat.

"Like, hi," said a guy wearing butterfly clips in his shoulder length hair. "I'm Poland, but please, call me. I mean, Feliks," he added, giggling madly. Ludwig and Roderich stared.

The girl had long brown hair and a pretty smile. She flashed this towards them apologetically.

"I'm Hungary. My name's Elizaveta, but I prefer Eliza."

"She totally wants to get frisky with you, Rod," Poland interrupted loudly. Eliza turned a dark shade of red and punched Feliks. Hard. Ludwig winced and glanced at Roderich, who was also blushing and ducking his head.

--

The shuttle dropped them off at the hotel shortly afterwards, and Ludwig found himself in his hotel room alone, unpacking his luggage in the eerie quiet. It was a nice room, wide and spacious with minimal décor. There were two twin-sized beds facing a medium-sized flat screen television. It was nothing fancy, which was how Ludwig liked it.

But where was his roommate? Certainly, the opening ceremony didn't kick off until tomorrow morning, but technically whoever it was was late for check in.

Not that Ludwig minded. To be honest, he was sort of dreading living in the same room as a stranger.

Deciding that he might as well take a nap, Ludwig crawled beneath the covers and fell fast asleep.

--

The German delegate awoke to some kind of commotion going on in the hallway outside of his door.

"For the last time, let me go!" whined one slightly nasal voice. "Fratelloooo..."

There were several loud, thumping noises and the doorknob jiggled.

"No! I'm not staying with that damn Spaniard! He's a pervert! I'm staying with you!"

"Ve! You can't stay with me! I already have a roommate!"

Ludwig decided that it would be good to open the door and see what was going on at this point.

Two nearly identical young men were tangled up in a heap on the floor. One with lighter brown hair was holding a card key away from the other.

"Can I help you?" Ludwig asked. The darker haired guy chose the opportunity to swipe the card out of his brother's hand. The light haired one immediately sprung up and grabbed the front of Ludwig's shirt. Ludwig stumbled back a few steps in surprise.

"Lovino is being mean to me! He wants to sleep with me because he thinks his roommate is a pervert, but I say he isn't a pervert, maybe! I told him looking through someone's underwear upon meeting them is maybe just a custom in Spain, but Lovino doesn't believe me, and now he's stolen my key!"

And with that, the young man began sobbing loudly.

The other guy, Lovino, looked irritated. He handed the key to Ludwig.

"Can I sleep in your bathtub or something?" he asked. "My roommate is a pervert."

"I'm sorry," Ludwig apologized. "But I'd rather you didn't."

"Bastard!" Lovino suddenly shouted. Ludwig resisted the urge to clamp a hand over the noisy man's mouth. "I need to keep an eye on my brother, too, you know? He's very innocent! If I hear you lay one finger on him…" And with that, Lovino stomped off down the hall, shouting obscenities about Spaniards and potato bastards.

"Come on in," said Ludwig, grimacing. His roommate continued to cling to him, and was now staring all starry-eyed into Ludwig's face.

"Hi, I'm Feliciano Vargas, and that was my brother, Lovino, and we're both Italian delegates, and I really like you, you know that? I just decided, and we're going to be best friends."

"Best…friends…?" Ludwig echoed, feeling his face color.

"Yes!" Feliciano smiled. "Now, can you help me with my suitcases? I don't think I can carry all fifteen up the stairs by myself."

--

In only four hours, Feliciano had taken up most of the closet space with his ridiculous designer clothes, redecorated the room with random crap, ordered seven room service pizzas (and eaten them all), and left a complete mess around the room.

Ludwig was now picking up after the other student, grumbling to himself all the way while Feliciano took the longest shower in the history of mankind, no doubt using up all of the hot water. To make matters worse, the Italian was singing. Loudly.

As Ludwig was just settling on his bed and pulling out a book, Feliciano emerged from the bathroom. He dropped his dirty clothes on the floor, along with several damp towels. Revealing himself to be completely naked.

"What--what--what--" stammered Ludwig.

"Ve?" Feliciano gave him a quizzical look and crawled into his own bed, yawning. "Goodnight, Ludwig. Wake me up when we have to go."

Ludwig buried his face in his book, trying not to look over at the naked Italian.

It was going to be a long week.

--

Ludwig awoke at his usual time of six a.m., feeling jet-lagged and irritable.

He tried in vain to roust his roommate for about fifteen minutes, which was rather awkward because the covers had fallen off Feliciano so he was just kind of, well.

Ludwig gave up and decided that he could always call the room on his cell phone later.

Breakfast was provided by the hotel. There were several other people in the restaurant, but Ludwig felt that, after last night, he had met enough people for a lifetime. He chose a table alone in the corner, but, of course, no one else respected his wishes. He was not there for ten minutes when a blond man with large eyebrows and green eyes approached him.

"Another early riser? Most people are sleeping off the jet-lag, you know. I'm Arthur Kirkland, by the way. Representing the British Empi-- I mean, England."

"Ludwig, Germany," Ludwig grunted, shaking Arthur's hand.

"Actually, I'm here to get away from my roommate." Arthur shivered and glanced around. "You seem to be the sanest guy here so far. See him?" Arthur pointed towards a towering man in a scarf sitting at another table. "That's Russia. I don't know his real name, but I've already heard some rather odd rumors. And over there--" he pointed to a short, angry looking blond sitting with a cute girl. "That's Vash. I sat next to him on the shuttle. When he opened his backpack? I swear I saw knives."

Ludwig glanced around in alarm.

Arthur just sighed miserably.

"Honestly? I hate America. And not just the country. I had to apply for this in one of my classes. Just my luck I should get in…" he shook his head. "I don't know why my little brother wanted to come with me so badly."

"That's funny." Ludwig sipped his coffee. He noticed the other delegate was drinking Earl Grey.

"Yeah, well, Peter's just a little git," Arthur sighed. "They can be so bloody annoying."

Ludwig nodded in agreement.

"Say, is your brother the other Germany? You look and act completely different, but I thought he mentioned you."

"The other Germany?" Ludwig blinked. He hadn't seen this person on the flight over, nor on the shuttle. He had assumed that the other delegate was running late.

"You know, light hair, funny eyes…"

"Gilbert… Gilbert is here?" Ludwig asked.

"Gilbert, that was his name!" Arthur snapped his fingers. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Excuse me," Ludwig said, setting his coffee down and bolting out of the restaurant.