I know what you all are thinking. "What the hell are you doing writing another story, you idiot? Finish your others already!" Well, I can't blame you… But I reeeeeaaaaalllllllyyyyy wanted to start this! Based on a prompt for the Hetalia kink meme.

Also, for NaNoWriMo, wrote a story about made up countries in a made up world, which is sort of Hetalia-styled, except with a lot more angst and blood mixed in with the humor. A "dark humor" of sorts. Anyway, I was wondering if you guys would read it if I put it up. ^-^

Prompt: A human AU about a culture in which people who come of age get a freshly caught slave they can do whatever they want to. Liechtenstein, the daughter of a very well to do family, reaches this age and is presented with Prussia, a foreign officer and nobleman who was just captured in war between their countries. Prussia is very proud and not at all willing to submit to someone else's will but has little choice.

Smut is optional but would be lovely, especially if Liechtenstein is leading. If authoranon is feeling generous, some kind of plot would be nice as well. However, I'm mostly interested in seeing Liechtenstein in a position of power while Prussia has no free will.

Elise knelt down in the grass, unaware that she was staining her new dress, peering into the rose bushes. Several fox kits were curled in the middle, where the mother fox seemed to be sure they'd be protected by the thorny branches. If they didn't hurt themselves, that is.

This was the first time Elise had seen a baby fox in the wild, let alone the four that were napping in that bush. She watched the gentle motion of the kits' breathing in their fragile chests. Her green eyes were wide with curiosity. How could their mother leave them all alone, where anything could reach out and pluck them away, or where the smallest shift in their sleep would paint their hiding place red?

"Elise! What are you doing out here?"

The voice made the girl jump. She looked up sheepishly as her older brother came to stand beside her, akimbo with a disapproving look on his face.

"Oh, hello big brother," she said shyly, her cheeks pink with the embarrassment of being found kneeling like a commoner.

Vash took Elise by the elbow, gently pulling the girl to her feet. "Look at you. Sheesh, you've gotten your dress all ruined again. Mother will be angry, you know," he scolded.

Elise looked at the ground, scuffing the ground with her shoes in shame. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, clasping her hands behind her back.

"What on earth are you looking at that have you digging around the dirt anyway?" Vash peered through the small opening in the leaves and saw the fox kits. He blanched. "Elise! You know that wild animals could be dangerous!"

She sniffed a little, swiping at her eyes quickly. "I'm sorry, big brother. They're just so cute… I couldn't help it," she apologized, sounding absolutely miserable.

Seeing that his sister was truly sorry, Vash's expression softened a bit. He brushed away her tears, smiling gently.

"Hey, don't cry. I'm just worried about you, you know that. I can't protect you forever," he said.

In a few weeks, Vash would be going off to fight in the war, as all first-born sons of noblemen were required to do. Remembering this, Elise looked up sharply, shaking her head vigorously so her blond twin-braids whipped about her head.

"Don't worry about me! I'll be fine!" she said earnestly. She didn't want Vash to get distracted by worrying about her safety while he was out fighting. If it was to keep her brother safe and alert, she'd try to be strong.

He smiled fondly at her determination. "At least I'll be here for your birthday, right?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked. Elise smiled brightly, nodding her head. "Yes! I can't wait! I'll finally get my own slave, like big brother did!" she said.

Vash shifted uncomfortably, remembering his slave. Having his own slave had been horrible right from the start. Not because he didn't want a slave, though, because coming of age and finally having a slave of his own had been a lifelong dream of his. His slave had been a fighter—stubborn and fiery right until the end. The slave had to be killed because of the many attempts made on Vash's life. The thought that his precious little sister might have a slave like that worried him.

"Let's go inside and get someone to change your dress," he said, mostly to change the subject.

Elise sighed and pouted. "Do we have to? Mother with lecture me for sure, and then Elizaveta will scold me for the same thing," she said, looking up at Vash with pleading eyes.

Usually, the adorable look would be enough to get Vash to do whatever Elise wanted. Unfortunately for Elise, he was ready for this and quickly averted his eyes. "Yes. I'm sure Elizaveta won't be too harsh on you. As long as the stains aren't permanent, that is." He eyed the dark green blotches on the otherwise solid pink dress his sister was wearing.

Vash led the resigned Elise inside. A tall maid with her plentiful brown hair tied back with a plain bonnet appeared almost immediately. Both siblings jumped at her materialization.

"Ah, Elizaveta, I was just looking for you…" Vash began, but was pushed out of the way as the maid fussed over Elise's appearance, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

"Oh, Miss Elise, what am I to do with you? That dress was brand-new, sewn especially for you as a gift for your coming-of-age. Those stains look horrendous. I'm going to have to work to get them out right now. Come along now, Miss. We need to get you changed right away." The woman took Elise by the elbow, as if the younger girl's entire dress was covered in filth instead of only a couple grass stains.

Then Elizaveta's eyes traveled lower. "Oh, Miss, your shoes, too! Were you running around like a little peasant child? They're all scuffed! We'll need to get you new shoes as well!" she cried, as if messed up dress and shoes were the greatest crimes in the entire world.

Elise didn't have a chance to even apologize as she was swept down along the hall by the determined maid. She looked back at her brother with a look that plainly said 'I told you so' before she disappeared around the corner with Elizaveta.

Vash smiled nervously with a guilty wave until he could no longer see his sister. Then he sighed. It was just like Elizaveta to act like that. Although the woman was technically in service to them, she wasn't afraid to talk back to the siblings. Their parents allowed her to get away with it. After all, when Elizaveta was just a young girl, she'd assisted in caring for little Vash, and later Elise. Elizaveta had earned her freedom, and was now paid for her work. She stayed with the Zwinglis because she had no where else to go, her parents murdered a month before she was captured and bought as a companion to Vash.

He should have known there was no way Elizaveta would let Elise get away with any slight infringement of the obscure fashion rules of their country. Oh well, at least when Elise was with Elizaveta he knew his sister was safe.

"Be careful, Bruder. Don't do anything idiotic."

Gilbert grinned at his younger brother, whose face was creased with concern. It was just like Ludwig to get his underwear tied in a knot over him. He laughed and waved the younger man's worries away.

"Don't worry, Luddy! Your totally awesome older brother will destroy the other army without backup!" Gilbert boasted.

Ludwig paled, although Gilbert wasn't sure whether it was from the nickname or the thought of him rushing into battle without his squad there to help. "Please… Please don't go rushing off on your own again," he said. It was the closest thing to begging either had ever done.

"What are you worried about? The awesome me won that battle!" Gilbert said, offended by Ludwig's lack of faith in him.

"You nearly died from blood loss by the time we got there. It was a miracle you even survived," Ludwig pointed out.

The memory only made Gilbert thump his fist against his armor proudly. "But I survived! That only proves that Gott is on my side!" he said.

Ludwig sighed, slowly dragging a hand over his weary face. "Please, Bruder. I'll make all the wurst you want if you just let your squad back you up for once," he said.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. Now that was something to agree to. "All the wurst I want?" He grinned. "You're making a huge mistake, little Bruder. You know how much I eat."

The younger brother didn't say anything. He only held out his hand with a serious look set on his face. "Stay with your squad. Don't do anything rash," he said.

He took Ludwig's hand and shook it. "Hey, why so serious? I'll be fine, I swear," he said.

Ludwig nodded, looking only marginally relieved. After a while longer of reassurances, Gilbert finally convinced his younger brother that it was fine, that he'd be alright, and they're be reunited again soon to continue kicking some serious ass. And thus they parted ways—Ludwig to the rest of the platoon, probably to write some letter to his dear friend, and Gilbert to meet up with his squad.

The three others in his small troop were waiting for him a short walk away from camp. All around them, trees stretched high into the sky, as if reaching greedily for the moonlight. It made the night in the forest—which was the only barrier between their country and the enemy's country—so very dark. If Gilbert wasn't as awesome as he was, he'd admit that the forest—with the sparse silvery light poking weakly through the canopy and the immense silence that threatened to swallow them whole if they doubted themselves for a single second—was disconcerting, if not downright frightening.

But of course, Gilbert was too awesome for that, so of course it was exciting as hell, and not scary at all.

Nope, definitely not.

He shivered. Ok, maybe he was slightly afraid. But definitely not by much!

"It's nice of you to show up, Gilbert. I was starting to think you took your brother and ran away," a tall brunette man said, his voice dripping with biting sarcasm.

Gilbert only allowed a scathing grin. "Cool it, Roderich. I'm not a coward like you, who runs away the second they come across the enemy," he said mockingly. The two other men snickered.

Roderich stiffened and adjusted his glasses, very much like the prissy aristocrat that he was. "Just because I'm not an ignorant warmonger like you, doesn't mean I'm a coward," he informed Gilbert, trying to sound proper and dignified.

He looked to his friends, not sure what Roderich just said. 'Warmonger?' he mouthed. The blond only shrugged, while the green-eyed man next to him gave Gilbert a vague, puzzled smile.

Unfortunately, Roderich immediately picked up on Gilbert's confusion. He smirked, crossing his arms smugly. "It means you're an idiot who likes to fight. Which is true," he informed the rest of the group.

Gilbert hid his embarrassment with another grin. "Well, at least I'm not a total wuss who plays piano."

"It's a dignified pursuit of geniuses!" Roderich blurted out indignantly.

"Ja, ja, whatever. You still got your ass kicked by a girl." Gilbert froze as he realized what he just said.

Roderich's cheeks reddened, but not from indignation. "Shut up! Leave Elizaveta out of this!" His voice was full of hurt, vulnerable.

Gilbert looked down and actually complied. He felt bad for bringing Elizaveta up. Both Roderich and Gilbert had been friends with Elizaveta since they were babies. Well, their parents had been friends, and so they hung out together on an almost daily basis. In fact, Roderich and Elizaveta had an arranged marriage for when they became of age, even though they were cousins. It was more like they were second cousins, however, and it was very common anyway.

But then Elizaveta's entire family was captured and presumably wiped out when the girl was just seven.

The blond man sensed the tense atmosphere. He hadn't known Elizaveta personally, but knew how much her disappearance upset his dear friend. Biting his lip, he remained silent and turned to the curly-haired man next to him. The man—

Antonio—obviously sensed the suddenly-tense atmosphere, and was shifting his weight around uncomfortably.

Unfortunately, Antonio obviously didn't have enough good sense to follow Francis's example.

"Well, ready to go, everyone~?" Antonio announced suddenly. And then, "Ow, Francis, that really hurt!"

Francis had elbowed Antonio in the ribs. Not for breaking the mood, however. "You nearly cut off my head!" he growled.

Antonio blinked, then looked down. He seemed to notice his outstretched arms, thrown open in obvious excitement, for the first time. The axe that he was holding had swung over Francis's head, barely missing the man by centimeters.

Luckily Francis had good reflexes.

"Ahaha, sorry, Francis~!" Antonio apologized, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

Francis narrowed his eyes. "You don't sound too concerned that you almost killed me," he accused.

"Anyway~!" Antonio moved on, ignoring the accusation completely, thus confirming Francis's suspicions. "Ready to go, everyone~?"

Roderich barely moved in response, his eyes staring off into some far-off space. Through some huge effort, Gilbert pulled himself together and met Antonio's eyes with a grin.

"Of course! Let's go plunder some villages and capture some slaves!" Gilbert said, punching his fist into the air with a burst of determined energy.

Francis sighed as Antonio mimicked the move, an insane grin splitting the brunette's face. "Yay~! Burn and conquer and kill~!" Antonio cheered.

Gilbert turned to Roderich, his expression softer and less mocking than before. "Ready to go, Roddy? Your last mission!" he asked, trying to tease his distraught friend back to the present. After tomorrow, Roderich would be returning to life as an aristocrat, while the other three would continue serving in the army as volunteers.

Roderich blinked a few times and slowly turned his head to look at Gilbert. After a couple seconds more, he nodded firmly. "Right, let's get on with it," he agreed.

And so the three set off, Gilbert teasing Roderich and getting yelled at for it, Antonio singing "Burn and conquer and kill~!" over and over, and Francis wondering how the hell he'd ended up with such psychotic friends.

In an hour, they arrived at the edge of the first village on their way to the heart of the country. Their mission was simple—cause as much chaos on their way to the capitol before the rest of the army catches up. Meaning that they would do exactly what Antonio was singing about—burn, conquer, and kill. No big deal for the awesome Gilbert.

"Ok then, let's figure out a plan of action," Roderich began. Gilbert cut him off.

"No way! We're just going to set fire and terrorize the townspeople! We don't need a plan for that!" he said.

"Sí, let's go already! My axe is thirsty for blood!" he said, swinging the axe he held experimentally.

Even with all the gore the other three soldiers had seen, it still unnerved them to hear the gleeful way Antonio talked about killing.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence (other than Antonio's singing), Roderich cleared his throat loudly to get their attention. "Either way, we should at least come up with a plan just in case one of us gets captured," he said reasonably.

"Ja," Gilbert said. "If you get captured, keep your unawesome mouth shut about the military, and the rest of us, don't get captured or you're on your own!"

"Sounds good to me~!" Antonio concurred, hugging his axe.

Francis shrugged. "The first part is good, and the second part seems logical," he said.

Roderich huffed. "Well, if rescuing them is a possibility, we should at least try!" he protested.

"You're just saying that because you're afraid you'll be captured, Roddy," Gilbert teased, grinning.

"I am not!"

"Either way, can we please hurry before I fall asleep watching you two argue?" Francis demanded, placing his hands on his hips.

Roderich threw his hands up in exasperation. "Fine, fine! Just go charging in, see if I care!" he said.

"Yay, let's go, amigos~!" Antonio sang, already skipping ahead.

"Except, one more thing," Roderich said, much to everyone's despair.

"What is it now, Roddy?" Gilbert asked in exasperation. He was itching to find himself some beautiful women.

"If you see Elizaveta, don't hurt her," he said, looking down.

Gilbert immediately sobered. He nodded. "Right."

"Roddy's cousin? Got it~!" Antonio called back, almost to the outskirts of the village.

Roderich glared at the man ahead of him, but he was too far away to say anything to Antonio about the nickname. Gilbert snickered, proud of the trend that he had started. The trio followed after the insane axe-wielding man. Suddenly, Antonio stopped in his tracks.

"Hey, what's up with you?" Gilbert called.

Antonio spun around. "Amigos! Go back!" he called to them.

Before Gilbert could question Antonio's words, a line of soldiers separated them from their companion. They jumped back, pulling their swords out. Gilbert looked back, and saw that the way they had come was also cut off by the soldiers. They were surrounded.

"Verdammt. How unawesome to get caught like this," Gilbert cursed vehemently.

France backed up until they stood back-to-back. "I guess the three of us are going to have to rescue each other after all," he said.

Roderich huffed as he joined the other two, sword at the ready. "Like I said, we should have come up with a plan."

"Oh, stuff it, Roddy. We'll get out of this, plan or no plan," Gilbert said with a confidence that he didn't feel.

Scheiße, they were so screwed.

Translations:

Bruder: Brother

Gott: God

Ja: Yes

Verdammit: Damn it

Scheiße: Shit

Sí: Yes

So, sorry if the end seems rushed. Don't expect this to get updated too much either. It's just something I decided to do whenever I felt like it (ok, I know I said that about the last story I decided to do on a whim, ahaha, but seriously…).

Please let me know in a review how you liked this story and if you'd read the one I mentioned in the A/N at the top of this page!

Ciao~!