PRUHUN SHIPPING WEEK: Day 5: Let's Dance!

Title: Stolen Dance
Summary: Prussia only dances with Hungary 3 times in his life.
Warnings: Unrequited love (Prussia - Hungary), character death, mentions of character abuse

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The first time he actually danced with her was on her wedding day. That wasn't to say he hadn't wanted to dance with her before- he had just never had a justified reason to do so.

The happy couple was sitting, feasting with most of the nations in Europe present. Gilbert simply sighed to himself, poking at his food. They had already done the ceremony. He had been formally invited by both of them; it would have been rude to turn them down.

"C'mon, dance with me!" A drunk on love Hungary pulled him up, using their common language to communicate. "It'll be like, you know, my last transition from childhood to womanhood!"

Prussia scoffed. "Are you insinuating that I'm handing you- you, of all people- off like a father would with his daughter?" He asked, amused, and pretending to be shocked.

"Well, you did agree to walk me down the aisle." She teased. "Plus, your hair gives you that appearance, even if I know better."

Gilbert pretended to look offended, "That, my dear, was entirely uncalled for!" He said, putting his hand on his heart dramatically. He kissed her hand, waggling his eyebrows playfully. "But sure, if the lady desires."

He took her out to the ballroom dancing area, where he put her into proper waltz hold, and the band started to play a new song.

"Prussia…I didn't know you actually knew how to dance…" She murmured, looking up into his sad red eyes.

"I also can play the flute." He smiled gently; leading her smoothly through the simple steps Austria had taught her. "Not that I capitalize on that skill. But…"

I want you by my side.

He tossed the thought away, knowing it was now far too late to tell her the truth.

"But what…?" She looked curious, something on the tip of her tongue that she wasn't willing to tell him, just as he was unwilling to tell her the truth.

"But, I hope he doesn't get your mind!" He laughed quietly. "But, I guess your heart's too strong, anyway…" He twirled her around, while she looked at him suspiciously. "Anyway, we have to make up the time we've lost! I've actually never danced with you, in the like, thousand years we've known each other."

That got her attention. "Oh! I suppose…you're right." Her hand tightened around his shoulder, around his hand holding hers.

I want you.

The words stayed between them, unspoken by Prussia, who smiled at her, taking this stolen moment of heaven for his own pleasure.

He took her back to her husband, smiling at her. "Well, newlyweds, time to consummate the marriage!" He laughed obnoxiously.

Hungary slapped him for that, and things returned to normal.

Prussia was able to bury it for a while longer.

XXXXX

Not even a hundred years later did he dance with her again; he had been sent to his new "home" in the "motherland" of the USSR. He grumbled, too fucking cold for all this white bullshit. After World War II, when the Soviet Union had taken him as his prize, Gilbert had been transferred from one hell to another. He had spent years in the gulag, and was just now coming back to Russia's home in Moscow.

He heard from a couple of Russian soldiers that apparently Austria had ditched them. Great.

Once he got back to the mansion Ivan had them living in as practically servants for his maddened desires, he sighed, and grabbed his few remaining belongings, and he went up to his room, only to see Hungary was waiting for him. Maybe this wouldn't be entirely bad…

She slapped him once he showed up, crying. "God fucking dammit Prussia!" She whispered. "How dare you leave me here!" She hiccupped.

"It's East now." He corrected her in a hushed tone. "He doesn't like me using my old name." He looked her over, biting his lip. "You're all banged up, what happened?"

She looked away, quietly. "A-Ah…Well, you see, after Austria left, Poland got some extra rights, and I tried to break away entirely…" She mumbled.

He rolled his eyes. "So you could leave me with him." He summarized. "And get back to Austria." He put his things down on the bed.

"Y-You don't understand!" She quickly said, upset. "I…I still love the idiot…"

Oh, how wrong she was. He understood entirely, and that was probably the worst part.

"Okay, still? You still have me!" He laughed a bit, trying to lighten the mood, but she sniffled, and tears dripped from her eyes.

He sighed. "Well, I have a surprise for you!" He said, laughing a bit, weak.

She looked up, confused. "When did you have time to get things?" She asked, concerned. "Will it make Russia angry…?"

He laughed. "It's in my nature, my dear Lizzy!" He took out a radio, stolen from those Russian idiots, and turned on a song. "Dance with me." He said, grinning.

"What?" She was laughing a bit.

"He can take away our things, our names, and our loved ones, but he cannot take away our ability to be happy with ourselves, Liz." He said, gentle. "Dance with me."

He extended his hand, and she took it, still confused and slightly worried, but he quickly pulled her into a slow waltz, reminding her undoubtedly of Roderich. He knew that he wasn't like that to her.

He could still have her here, in this moment, and pretend it was otherwise.

They danced like idiots, a good dancer ending up with his feet getting trampled beneath him, but it was good fun, despite it all.

He kissed her forehead, before he realized he had overstepped his boundaries, so carefully laid out for him, and she looked up at him, confused. "Gil?"

"Don't talk about it." He told her quietly, smiling a bit. "Shh…." He pulled away, and hid the radio in his closet, under some of Russia's older things.

XXXXX

Years passed, and she had returned to her true love, Austria.

He was weak, and he couldn't face them when it was finally happening. So he went to his old haunt, in what was now Northern Germany, and sighed softly.

He heard someone behind him, and he was startled, but didn't have enough energy to put up a fight.

He couldn't even sense who it was anymore, he was so far gone. "Ah... Gil?" He knew her voice in an instant though.

"Hungary…Elizaveta…Lizzy." He murmured, turning around to face her quietly. "I didn't want you to see this."

"See…see what, Gilbert?" She said, and he heard the sudden fear in her voice.

"See…see my death." He told her, admitting it. "It's been in my future for a long while, and I'm feeling that the time has come, Lizzy."

Her eyes widened. "W-what?" She looked horrified. "But…but, no…but you can't die! You've always told me you were surviving on willpower!"

He nodded, and took of a Band-Aid on his hand. "I'm not healing anymore, Lizzy. It's my time to go. I can feel it in my blood. You younger nations can't feel the earth's call as clearly…take care of my brother, and yourself, most of all, since I won't be there for you two anymore. Oh, and make sure to bother Austria for me, and tell Liechtenstein goodbye, and perhaps Vash, too."

Hungary looked to him, and he saw the tears gathering in her eyes. "You were my first friend, Gilbert." She said, quiet. "Even if you were a prick."

"Ah…but you were more than that to me, Lizzy." He said, before he kissed her forehead.

"W-What do you mean?" She asked, looking confused, before understanding dawned on her.

"My first crush." He admitted. "And my only, and my last." He sighed. "Look, we're not going to talk about this now, the time for that is gone, and it's my fault. But…I want this. Give me this, Lizzy." He held out a hand. "Dance with me?"

She was crying now, but he felt lighter for having told her, like his one regret was reconciled with him. But she took his hand, and they did a very slow dance, that was getting slower as he started growing weaker.

Eventually, he had to sit, and then, had to lie down. He looked up at her quietly, and she cradled his head in her lap. "I love you, Lizzy. I have, I have for a long time. I'm sorry I'm leaving you like this, when I finally have the courage to tell you that I do, but…It's my time to go, and I couldn't choose that."

His eyes closed, and her voice distanced from him even though he knew it was probably getting louder, but he felt himself drifting off into warmth, his time on earth complete, his mission accomplished. The soldier boy comes marching home, for the final time.

Once he had stopped responding, his body started to fade, and she shrieked when it happened. "No! No you fucking idiot!" She clutched at his cold chest, his clothing soon becoming all she was holding.

"I love you too!" She screamed into the uncaring night. "Come back! I never knew! Please!"

There was no answer.

"I'm sorry!"

He was gone.

Later that year, she and Ludwig had a memorial service for Gilbert Beilschmidt, known by many names to many people, and who would be deeply missed in the world.

His name was Prussia, and he was known in death, as he had been in life- a flame in the cold.