Title: Conference
Pairing(s): Prussia/Austria, established relationship; hints of little!Germany/little!Italy
Disclaimer: Hetalia and all affiliated characters do not (and will never) belong to me.
I return bearing fic! I apologize for my absence, FanFiction!
This is actually something I started months ago but never finished. Recently, when going through my "incomplete" folder, I stumbled across it and decided it deserved an ending. Who knows, I might even do more in this AU!verse (:
-x-
"To put it simply, we're worried. He doesn't play well with the other children, and the other day we caught him trying to organize them into 'squads'. Before that, we caught him trying to drill them like an army sergeant. It's just not normal. I think you should look into some therapy, or at least talk to him about it." The woman looked away, twisting her hands in her skirt as she tried to avoid eye contact with the poised man sitting on the other side of her desk. Honestly, she didn't know why it was always so hard for her to talk to him – he was nice, sophisticated, polite; everything that should make talking to him about serious matters easy. And yet…
"If he has done nothing to hurt anyone, then I do not see why this merits calling me in, Miss Carson."
Mary Carson sighed again, hazarding a slight glance at the man she had been addressing earlier. "I am sorry if this is an inconvenience to you, Mr. Edelstein," she said, aware that she had likely mangled the pronunciation. "It's just… I've been receiving complaints from some parents, and…"
"You may call me Roderich, Miss Carson. I understand my last name can be a bit troublesome for some." It was said with a straight face, traces of an accent still noticeable. "I understand perfectly what you are getting at." And that was the problem, she reflected – he did understand. In fact, he had a tendency to understand everything, from how the Top Brass of the school was putting pressure on her to do something about little Ludwig, and how she didn't really want to call him in here, but had no choice.
With a sigh, the young teacher watched with a slightly wistful expression as Roderich Edelstein turned his head to observe the reason for his being brought in – namely the little blonde, German boy with blue eyes who was currently yelling at the Italian kid, little Feliciano. Roderich – erm, Mr. Edelstein? Though he had said it was alright – really was an attractive man, she mused, cheeks colouring slightly as she realized she was already calling him by his first name in her mind, not even feeling awkward about it. He had dark hair, slightly wavy, with blue eyes so unique they looked violet. He was slight, not overly muscular, with a face any woman (and even a few men) would fight for. It was certainly different speaking to him in person than it was talking in polite tones over the phone.
She sighed again. And he seemed to have no idea he was so attractive, either. She wondered, absently, if he was single…
"Yo, little master!"
Mary straightened in her seat as another man flounced into the room, a scowl on his face as he moved to stand behind Roderich, his eyes flickering to her with absolute disinterest, ignoring her startled gasp at their reddish colour before he turned to the window and finally back to Roderich. She found her eyes glued to him, widening in an almost comical way, she was sure. He wasn't overly tall, with well-muscled arms (that she had just noticed by honest chance, really!) and shockingly silver-white hair, which was cut short and shaggy. In a way, he was almost Edelstein's polar opposite, even down to the way they dressed, for while Roderich wore a respectable loose white shirt with… well, a cravat and brown pants, this new man had a snug, plain black tee-shirt, jeans with a hole in the knee, and a red-and-white scarf around his neck. Craning her neck, Mary caught sight of a black-and-white wristband with some sort of black bird, but not knowing what it was she decided to dismiss it.
"Gilbert," Roderich said flatly, his mouth thinning as the silence around them shattered. Mary frowned, snapping out of her surprised stupor long enough to wonder who on earth this man was, and moreover why he was here interrupting the meeting whilst chastising her own self for becoming distracted. In her defence, it was hard to concentrate when there were two very attractive men just on the other side of the desk, both with German-sounding accents, though the silver-haired man's was admittedly far stronger. "Why are you here?"
The strange man shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "I got bored. You're entertaining."
Roderich looked annoyed. "That is not my problem, Gilbert."
"Everything is your problem, Specs!"
"Even the behaviour of Ludwig, it seems."
Instantly the silver-haired man's face shut down, eyes becoming shadowed.
"I don't see why we're here," he snarled then, voice filled with so much venom that Mary actually found herself flinching, pushing herself to the back of her chair in a subconscious fear-controlled reaction. "West should be able to play how he wants!"
"How he wants is detrimental to the children around him," Roderich said, but Mary noted pensively that his voice lacked the conviction she had come so quickly to expect of him. "And I myself am tired of getting calls from angry parents."
Mary wondered if the silver-haired man, Gilbert or whoever, was bipolar considering how fast he changed his moods, for he suddenly went from indignant to completely enraged, and Mary yelped when he suddenly darted around to stand in front of Roderich before jerking him to his feet. She felt her protective streak rear up then, eyes widening indignantly, but it was tampered with a faint flush as she realized how quick she was the jump to the absolute defence of a man she had almost literally just met face-to-face.
"Excuse me—!"
"Shut up," the man called Gilbert hissed, and Mary visibly recoiled as he turned back to Roderich, hauling him out of his chair by the neck of his shirt. "They've been calling you? When? What have they been saying? I swear I'll fucking end them, those rotten bastards! I'll bet it was that dick, Braginski—"
"Gilbert," Roderich cut in, his voice rising sharply in disapproval. "This is a school, and you are neither a sailor or a soldier, so stop such uncouth behaviours."
"Like hell," came the answering snarl, but something in Roderich's face must have convinced him, for before Mary could try and interject again he had let go, allowing Roderich to smooth out his crumpled shirt with little more than a barely audible sigh, telling the young teacher that this was normal – either that or he was just impossible to rile. Gilbert, meanwhile, had crossed to the window, and Mary watched quietly as Roderich followed him after a moment, feeling apprehensive. This Gilbert seemed very volatile, and she wasn't… she wasn't used to dealing with men like that. What could she do? He had very clearly implied that he had no care for anything she said, and she wasn't even sure he should be here, not knowing his connection to Ludwig…
"Look at him play, Roddy," Gilbert said then, turning to look back at Roderich. "I don't see why they need to tell him it's not all right. They're just playing." He was grumbling near the end, and Mary watched as Roderich once again rose from his seat, moving to stand next to Gilbert at the window.
After a heartbeat or two Mary herself followed suit, swallowing her nervousness as she made her way to the other window. She doubted they even noticed her.
Outside little Ludwig Beilschmidt was standing by the sandbox, his expression as stern as ever as he arranged the two Vargas brothers in a line, ignoring the outraged cries of blue-eyed and adorable Alfred Jones, whose shy brother Matthew had somehow managed to find himself part of Ludwig's latest 'squad.' Mary bit her lip. Arthur Kirkland, one of Matthew and Alfred's… guardians? Fathers? Either way, he had been one of the ones to voice concerns, raising his voice over the protests of his partner Francis Bonnefoy, which had been enough to put Mary herself more at ease.
"He's not doing anything wrong, Roddy," Gilbert said then, his voice settling into a low whine, almost like a wounded animal. She was suddenly struck with the urge to reach out and comfort him. "Just playing."
"It is not our place to presume whether it is wrong or not."
"So it's theirs?" Gilbert asked with disbelief.
"No," Roderich said, his tone more placating and soothing. Mary watched, wide-eyed, as he reached out to curl one hand around Gilbert's bicep. "However, they are in a place to decide what they think is right and wrong and, perhaps more importantly, enforce it, whereas you are not. It is why I asked you to stay outside. I knew you would get defensive." Gilbert opened his mouth, but Roderich continued on, smooth voice overriding anything the other might have said. "You are his brother, Gilbert, and his guardian. Of course you would take his side."
Oh. So this is the elusive older Beilschmidt, Mary thought, her mind immediately seeing the connection almost as soon as that was stated. But if he's the child's legal guardian…
As if on cue she found herself watching as Gilbert smirked, but it was a different kind of smirk – one with a softer edge. She wondered if he noticed.
Roderich was looking back at him, his body language and face betraying nothing at first glance, but when she shuffled over – inconspicuously, really! – she could see the ghost of a smile flickering across the serious man's face, both fond and irritated all at once.
"Go back outside, Gilbert," Roderich said then, his tone formal and even, but she didn't miss the way his hand tightened momentarily on the other man's arm.
Gilbert glared at him once, but his heart wasn't in it like it had been earlier, or at least it was a more mild version of the first glare.
"Can we take Feli?"
Roderich's face moulded into a mask of disapproval, his eyes going flat as he uttered a deadpan, "No."
Gilbert snorted, but the easy posture he adapted meant he had likely anticipated this and had only asked out of habit. As a teacher of small children, Mary Carson had always prided herself on her ability to read the small things like that.
With her job and family, she kind of had to.
It still didn't prepare her for the way Gilbert suddenly swooped down and kissed Roderich, though, his arm slipping around the brunette's waste in a possessive hold, the remaining arm hovering a faint ways behind him, the armband clearly visible. When he pulled back it was with a satisfied smirked, and he snickered as he turned to go, ignoring the slightly dazed and irate look currently on the face of the now-rumpled Roderich Edelstein.
"Goodbye, Mr. Beilschmidt," she squeaked as he passed, averting her eyes lightly. That answers that.
"It's Beilschmidt. The 'ei' is pronounced 'ai,' not 'ee' or 'ee-el,'" he snapped before leaving, oblivious to the faint red Mary's face had turned. She coughed.
"… So you're not, umm, related?" she asked the remaining man timidly after a few seconds of silence, during which she watched as he gradually composed himself, cheeks coloured faintly.
"No," he told her simply, adjusting the cravat around his neck. "Not by blood. To answer the question you really want to ask, Miss Carson, I have been living with him for many years now. We were enemies in our adolescence. Often violent." A slight inclination of his head and a sharp gesture of his hand made Mary wonder just what kind of violent enemies they had been. She had no trouble imagining Roderich Edelstein standing on the precipice of battle, sword poised and ready to strike like Heaven's Angel of Mercy, but she couldn't imagine him scrapping in the dirt with a German boy obviously far stronger than he.
She blushed again at the sharp look he gave her.
"Miss Carson, I do not mean to be brief, but if there is nothing else to discuss…?"
The question was clear, and she was nodding hastily before she had even finished processing his words. "Of course, I didn't mean to keep you," she said hurriedly, slipping around the desks. "There was really nothing else," she hurried to explain, still feeling ridiculously flustered.
He just nodded calmly at her.
She blushed again and wanted to run into the closet at the back of the room to hide. Preferably for the rest of the year.
"The administration really would appreciate you talking to him," she said hurriedly as he turned to leave, well aware that this was likely the least impressive and professional meeting he had ever attended. All she could do was pray that he had never attended one before.
She highly doubted her luck was that good either way.
Still, he humoured her with a faint incline of his head. "Good day, Miss Carson," he said before leaving, and she shut the door behind him with a rush of breath.
That could have gone worse…
Sort of…
Well, perhaps not really.
With the goal of packing up her desk she turned to move across the classroom, but before she could reach her intended destination she caught something out of the corner of her eye, finding herself drawn inexplicably to the window, where she noticed a man with pale skin and white hair reaching down to lift a serious-looking blonde child, who responded with a rarely-seen smile as his elder brother lifted him up onto his shoulders, laughing and commenting.
It was… well, it was adorable, no doubt. Feliciano Vargas, Ludwig's friend, was tugging on Gilbert's pants, and with a grin the red-eyed man reached down to pick him up as well, carrying them both on his shoulders and proceeding to do things that likely weren't contributing to the overall health of the children.
He proceeded to do this until interrupted by something she didn't hear, but Mary didn't need to hear anything to know what was said, as Roderich Edelstein was making his way towards them, his face creased into an expression of disapproval. He opened his mouth again, his posture stiff as he approached the little group, and Mary watched as Gilbert winced lightly, but he put the children down easily enough and with a nonchalant expression that spoke of his being used Roderich's crisp attitude before turning to greet the other man with a lecherous grin – the type that made Mary want to rush out there and cover the eyes of the impressionable children suddenly clustered around them.
Gilbert said something she couldn't hear, something that made Roderich give his head a curt shake. Gilbert scowled in response, but kneeled down to ruffle Feliciano's hair as he lifted Ludwig back up, saying something cheerful to the child, whose (abnormally young) grandfather-slash-guardian would be around to pick him up at any moment. Mary watched them for a few more moments, smiling silently to herself as the family of three made their way down the playground pathway, Gilbert gesturing wildly with his free hand (the other was holding Ludwig) as Roderich walked beside him, his posture impeccable. He didn't even break a stride when Gilbert's arm slid around his waist again, but Mary thought, when he turned to glance at the silver-haired man, she saw a smile anyway.
Perhaps little Ludwig would turn out all right after all.