Expression of the Soul
It had only supposed to be an alliance.
It was only supposed to be a promise to protect each other in war, something that greatly benefited both sides. Nothing more, nothing less. It was simply business. Impersonal.
Even at the beginning, both had thought that to be completely true. Anything more than that would be ridiculous, right? Elizabeta had bullied and beaten him as a child, so it would be ironic if they had actually fallen in love, right?
Maybe it would have been. But even so, what had started out as a "just an alliance" had spiraled into something so much more, unbeknownst to either one of them. Somewhere along the line, his discreet glances turned into "I can't keep my eyes off of you". And somewhere along the line, her plain admiration turned into "I'm in love with everything you do".
Eventually, these notions grew stronger and stronger until reaching a magnitude where they simply couldn't be neglected any longer. So one day, as Elizabeta entered his music room in her daily routine of laying a tray of tea on the nearby table, Roderich (after a prolonged period of silent self conflict) decided to do something about it.
His hands had still been flying across the keys of the piano when he bit his lip, hearing her footsteps about to stride out of the room. In was now or never. Right before she reached the door, he called out to her.
"Elizabeta… Stay here for a moment, would you?"
She had blinked in surprise. That was the first time she had heard him call her by her real name. Acquiescently, she stayed, her heart starting to beat a bit faster. Against all odds, a remote fairytale part of her mind offered her a bit of hope, but for what she was not sure.
Roderich had never been very good at expressing himself through words. However, they say that music is an expression of the soul, and so he allowed these notes to say what words could not. Taking a soundless deep breath, he started on another piece. Each note resounded in the room as he willed the truth of his emotions to be carried through—nothing more, nothing less.
As the song gently swelled to an end, Roderich almost dared not look up at her. Perhaps he wasn't clear enough—perhaps she wouldn't have understood in the first place. "Elizabeta, I—" he began, but never had the chance to finish. It was only now that he realized that she had come to stand behind him, for at the moment, she had leaned over his shoulder and touched her lips to his cheek.
"I love you, too, Roderich."
Originally written on June 8th, in commemoration of Austria and Hungary's wedding day (a.k.a. the Austro-Hungarian Compromise).