Pairings: Past implications of a few pairings. Edelweiss and USUK, if you squint.
Warnings: Rated T for crossdressing, America's slang and references to sexuality. Ah... Technically, I'm not supposed to write about actual people without their permission, so that's why I can't actually add names here... *Slaps red tape* Just pretend you don't know who I'm talking about.
AN: Wow, my first time writing Switzerland and this pile of weird is what he debuts in. I wrote the vast majority of this in the dead of night on my phone, so...this fic probably shouldn't be taken seriously at all.
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You wouldn't know me at all, today.
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"I just can't stand the way they talk about her, Switzy, it's...it's hateful."
"Weren't you reluctant too, a few months ago?" On the other end of the line, Vash sounded bored. Roderich could hear faint clicks and clacks in the background. The blonde Alpine nation was most likely performing maintenance on his beloved collection of guns. Austria had grown accustomed to such noises during their calls. "You said you were afraid it would be like 2012 again."
A minute shudder wracked through Roderich's shoulders at the mention of his...interesting Eurovision entry from a couple years past. "Ja, I was weary at first, but then I met her. And I heard her sing that song, and you wouldn't believe the passion she has! It's inspiring!"
"Well, if you say so, she must be really something." Vash agreed. "She did sound good in the video they put up."
"She is more than good. She has something special - and don't say I'm biased!" Roderich warned. "Don't be jealous. I like your entry, too. It's my second favorite."
"It is?" Switzerland sounded surprised, even pleasantly so.
"Ja, it's very catchy and has a lightheartedness to it."
"Well... Danke. You are still biased, though."
"I can't help it. If you talked with her, you'd understand. She is having all of these horrible things said about her, and yet she's nothing but gracious. She has better people skills than I do! She has what it takes to win-"
"Biased." Vash observed idly.
"I'm not biased, I'm honest. She does have what it takes. And even if she doesn't appear to be bothered by all of these comments, the more I read about them, it makes me so angry, Schweiz..."
His neighbor sighed, static crackling over the line. "You do sound pretty worked up about it. What are you going to do?"
"Something...different." Austria admitted, placing a hand over the large dry-cleaner's bag in his lap. A hint of nervousness edged into his tone. "She was only joking with me one day, but something she said gave me an idea..."
"Oh, no."
Roderich huffed good-naturedly. "Come now, give me a chance to explain first!"
Evidently, it wasn't any better after he'd explained.
"You're going to do what?!" Vash yelped. "Are you insane? Have you finally become the insane vampire-like man who plays piano all day like in the movies?"
"No! Why does everyone think that...never mind. There's nothing wrong with it." Roderich insisted stubbornly. "It's not as though I'm asking you to do it with me. Although, you could if you wanted to."
"Why would I want to? I can't do that! What would Lili think? It's bad enough she's going to have to see you like that."
Roderich smiled slightly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes regardless of the fact that Vash couldn't see him. "I'm sure she would be perfectly fine with it."
"Well, she has been spending time with Hungary, so it wouldn't surprise me... But honestly, why do you need to do this?"
"It's only to teach the rest of them a lesson. I would do it here at my capital, but there's a chance there might be cameras there -"
"Do not do it there...don't do this at all." Vash sounded thoroughly exasperated. "Why can't you just make a speech?"
"I could do that, too." Roderich responded thoughtfully, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the plastic bag. He was used to Switzerland's tone and knew the other nation wasn't as put-out as he sounded. He often sounded angry when he was shocked or surprised.
"You're impossible. Why would you embarrass yourself like this?"
"You know exactly why." Something sparked in Austria's eyes, and he straightened his shoulder resolutely. "It won't be embarrassing for me. I have nothing to be ashamed of. Not in that way, anyhow. When they talk about her, they talk about me, too. They talk about anyone who is different, anyone who dares to express themselves freely, anyone who empathizes with people like us."
His tone softened. "I have to do this. I'm not going to tell anyone else, I only wanted you to know ahead of time. The meeting will be at your place, after all."
"Don't remind me. Now I have to deal with your...your thing on top of that. Well..." Switzerland trailed off, leaving Austria to anxiously loop the handle of the bag around his fingers.
"You really don't approve, do you?"
"No, I was just thinking that you'd better go through with it. And you'd better look confident or I will be disappointed. No backing down!"
Roderich grinned briefly. "Jawohl. I can do that. Danke, Schweiz."
"Ja, just...take care." Vash replied, seemingly unfeeling. Roderich had known him long enough to pick up the subtle undertones of emotion in his voice, however. "I have to go, I hear either Italy or a very troubled goat outside."
"Don't shoot either of them."
"No promises on the first."
The call cut off with an abrupt click, as was the usual way with Vash. The dark-haired musician was left alone with his thoughts.
Austria had a choice. He could stand up for one of his citizens - no, so many of his citizens - against his fellow nations, or he could be neutral.
Roderich couldn't help it as his lips curved into a smirk.
Well, he never had quite gotten the hang of being completely neutral. That was Switzerland's thing.
The conference in Geneva was not unlike the countless other world meetings the nations had endured. A humdrum of voices rose, idle chatter occasionally overshadowed by arguments and shouts of horseplay. The long conference table bore carefully assigned seating, placing quiet nations in between the rowdy ones. The good intentions didn't always work.
For instance, England and France continued to argue whilst ignoring Canada's presence in between them. Later on, they would remember the lad and feel ashamed of themselves, but in the heat of the moment his soft protests went unheard.
To the right of England sat America, studiously ignoring the bickering of the other two nations by engaging Japan in conversation about robots and Godzilla. Italy occasionally piped up with ideas about cats, to which Greece hummed in agreement with in his sleep.
Germany sat at the far end of the table, to the left of Switzerland, who was sitting in his rightful place as host at the head of the table. His sister was dutifully at his right, next to Hungary. There was an empty space in between her and Spain, with Lovino, Turkey, China and South Korea sitting further down. Russia occupied the very other end of the table with his sisters and the Baltics. Poland sat next to Lithuania, their chairs spaced further from Russia than the others.
Switzerland observed his fellow nations with slight disinterest, shuffling his papers. He knew exactly who was missing, and he was waiting upon him.
"Wo ist Österreich?" Germany seemed to have caught on, leaning in to pose the question. "Usually he asks me to pick him up for meetings like this, but today he didn't."
"He'll be here soon." Surely, knowing the aristocratic nation, he was taking longer than usual to get ready.
And while the others were oblivious, Vash knew exactly why.
The first thing Switzerland noticed about Austria was that his typical cravat was absent, leaving the smooth column of his neck exposed save for the long, indigo coat he often insisted upon wearing.
There was a key element missing from his attire that day, however.
Roderich wasn't wearing pants of any sort.
Instead, a full-length, shimmering skirt could be seen from beneath the coat, billowing out gracefully past his shins in a mermaid-tail fashion. And as he stepped further into the room, a soft clicking could be heard on the hardwood floor...gut Gott, were those high heels?
Vash didn't know whether to be embarrassed on the musician's behalf, or impressed. All rational thoughts had jolted to a screeching, swirling halt within his head.
He registered hearing the other nation's reactions to what was happening next before he could bring himself to look up and see. Gasps and shocked titters of laughter broke out around the room, while some were left nigh speechless.
Arthur and Francis had paused, each with their hands halfway around the other's neck.
"Bloody hell!" England's impressive eyebrows rose in shock.
"L'Autriche..." France practically purred, gazing at his husband of once-upon-a-time. "What a pleasant surprise."
All eyes were trained on the figure in the doorway, and Switzerland finally brought his gaze up to join them. He soon saw what all the shock was about.
Roderich had been unhurriedly unbuttoning his coat, and now he slowly eased his shoulders from it, taking his time to expose the rest of his dress-clad body. His cheeks were flushed red – he was embarrassed, that liar, but he followed through with the dramatic entrance until at last his wrists had been freed.
He stood before them in an amazingly fitted, elegant gown. It spanned across in a wide sweetheart neck, hugging his shoulders gracefully with long, thin sleeves sewn in intricate lace patterns. The material shimmered and caught the light as he shifted his stance, glimmering like gold to accentuate the subtle curves and tones of his tall, slim body. A simple, darker belt rested across his waist, sending the lower half of the dress clinging gracefully over his hips and curling about his legs.
Roderich had always favored sophisticated outfits, but this...was...tasteful...
Switzerland felt his mouth go dry and forced himself to swallow, blinking in shock a few times because his neighbor was actually standing in a dress in front of everyone and he looked regal and beautiful in a way that should have simply been impossible.
"My apologies for being a bit late." Austria announced in a casual tone, as smoothly as ever.
No one could manage to say a word.
"What?" He continued, feigning surprise as if he genuinely hadn't been expecting the reactions. "Am I not the same person I've always been? Close your mouths and stop looking at me like that."
Switzerland jerked his head away, noticing Germany next to him staring with his mouth open in shock. The shorter blonde irritably bopped his jaw shut.
Roderich sent him a hint of a grateful smile. "Danke." He turned to address the nations at large. "Now," He murmured, draping his coat over one arm. " We're not strangers here, are we? I've known most of you for centuries. Lifetimes and lifetimes."
He began to walk around the conference table with small, extremely deliberate steps - it was almost a collected prowl, his hips swaying naturally with each stride forward. Switzerland remembered that walk. It could easily go from pleasant to dangerous. He hadn't seen it in such a long time... Not since...
He glanced over at Spain, who was watching with interest, his gaze lingering about the old silver cross which now hung in plain view from Austria's neck.
Yes, they both remembered what Roderich had been like in the Habsburg days.
"I'm sure that, over the years, you all have felt many things toward me. Emotions," He paused shortly near Antonio's chair, only a halt of one step. "Conflict..." He smirked wryly at Turkey. "Harmony." He placed a brief hand on Hungary's shoulder before moving on to the host of the meeting.
"Friendship and everything in between, to name a few." Vash found himself gripping the arm of his seat tightly as he stared face-to-face with the man.
He could see the way those violet eyes, although gentle for him, had hardened in resolve, a glint of determination and defiance sparking within their depths.
As awkward as wearing a dress might have been for some of the male nations in the room, Roderich showed no signs of discomfort. The flush was fading from his features, leaving behind nothing but quiet grace and assurance. Austria had fallen into his element, and there would be no stopping him now.
"As nations and as individuals, we've been through hell and back numerous times on this earth. And look at us. We're still here. We have grown, and overcome toxic afflictions and hindrances." Roderich lifted his head and straightened his shoulders, continuing on past Germany.
"Some are stronger and freer than ever." He added, looking briefly at Poland.
"At the same time, however, it seems that some stifling opinions still remain. I know that some of you, or at least your citizens, have seen fit to ridicule my choice for the upcoming Eurovision Song Contest."
As he neared the end of the table, Roderich placed his hands on his hips. "Before this meeting starts, I would like to say right now, to all of you, that such narrow-minded stubbornness will not do any good." He stared down at Russia, meeting innocent lavender eyes with his own icy pair. "You may try, if you like, to hinder the success of another. You won't succeed."
He folded his arms across his chest, gazing at the assembly thoughtfully. "I thought the same thing at first, I must admit. Someone like that, representing me in Eurovision? It is new." He admitted.
"But then I met her, and she is so real. What does it matter, how she identifies herself? What does it matter, what she wears, where she's been, what any of you say about her? Her dreams are pure. I came here like this today because I want you all to see that there is more to a person than what any of us realize at first glance. It doesn't matter if they choose to wear the exact same jacket every day, or a skirt, or a scarf, or even if they are the occasional nudist like Francis."
"Oho." The man is questioned chuckled, twirling a lock of curled golden hair about his index finger as he listened.
"He like, totally has a point." Poland chimed in, giving his silken, honey-blonde hair a flip. "I mean, look at how fabulous I rock the skirt!"
Glancing down at his scarf, Russia thoughtfully ran one end over his fingers.
"I like my jacket." America mumbled, drawing it closer around himself.
"I like it, too." The mutter from England was even quieter.
"What was that, dude?"
"N-nothing..."
"Now," Roderich continued, "I am still the same person today as I have been for years. I have been married to men and women-"
Hungary coughed lightly.
"Alright, men and one woman," Austria amended obediently. "And I'm not ashamed of who I am. I'm not ashamed to wear this dress, and I'm not ashamed to be represented by this particular citizen of mine. In fact, I'm proud!" He shook his index finger at the group, which was still quiet and somewhat stupefied. "Therefore, I demand the same amount of respect in this outfit as I would in any other. If any of you think otherwise, you are fools."
He dropped his arm, something more solemn entering his expression. "We all share a common connection as nations. At our core, we have the same struggles, the same worries, the same fears. The things that divide us may be many, but we must pick and choose our battles. Times are changing. If we are not accepting of our own, who will be?"
Sighing softly, Austria shook his head. "I cannot change your minds for certain, but I for one will not allow hate to cloud my judgment again. So, don't mess with my music. Think what you like about my entry, but I can tell you that I count myself lucky to have someone like her from my home. I will support her whether we win or not."
"We are, however, going to win. That's all." He concluded softly, with a saccharine smile.. The fire in his eyes died down, although it was no doubt still kindled strongly in his heart.
The nations in the room were left to whisper and mutter in awe and disbelief.
Many of them seemed to be impressed, those for whom sexuality was a comfortable part of being themselves. Quite a few were like Roderich, having been in relationships with both men and women over the long years of their existence. Others were homosexual, some like Sweden even openly so. For the rest, the reminder of how petty some old prejudices truly were induced nods of agreement and light chuckles. Roderich's exhibition seemed, for the most part, to have been well-received.
At the very least, all fears of a boring meeting had now been eased.
Hungary leaned in close to him as Roderich slipped into his chair at last. "Why didn't you call me? I could have helped you with this!" She looked close to squealing at the state of her ex-husband. A few seats down, Romania rolled his eyes at them both.
"For exactly that reason." Austria began to blush again, suddenly shy now that he was sitting down along with everyone else. "It's not a big deal, honestly."
Turning to the host of the meeting, Roderich's expression turned calm and lighthearted as if he hadn't just taken a sass trip in a glamorous gown around the world conference table.
"Hallo, Switzy."
"Hallo, Roderich. You did...well." Vash managed, gripping his papers tightly.
Beside him, Lili giggled in amusement. "Yes, doesn't Mr. Austria look pretty, Bruder?"
Vash was fairly certain he needed to shoot something because the room was stiflingly warm, his pulse was thrumming rapidly, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from his dark-haired Alpine neighbor for very long at all.
"He does...look...very...nice."
Roderich considered his words, and something in either his tone or expression must have pleased the musician, for he hid a flattered, beaming smile behind his hand. Hungary returned to fussing over him, going on about how she could have done his hair and curled his lashes and perhaps even painted his nails...
"I think I got the point across just with this." Roderich said nervously, attempting to evade the woman's insisting attention.
"Nonsense! You could have at least taken me shopping with you!"
"Nein, danke, that's quite alright..." Roderich shot Vash, Lili and Ludwig a 'Help Me' look.
The three blondes shrugged slightly and leaned back, as if to say, You asked for it.
"I'll totally like, go shopping with you, Hungary." Poland said.
"I know you would." She replied, smiling gratefully at her friend.
"Dude..." On the other side of the table, America was whispering loudly. He punched England in the arm to gain his attention. "Since when did Austria become a badass?"
"Oi! Watch yourself." Rubbing his arm idly, England chided the younger nation. "I don't know, really... Frog, did you know about this?"
"Oh, believe me, Angleterre, if I had known, you would have known." The nation of love smirked deviously. "Say... Your contestant will be wearing a dress for the competition too, no? Perhaps you should be so brave as - Ack!"
"Don't even finish that half-wit thought." England growled as France doubled over, nursing his freshly stomped-upon foot.
"Ow! Ah, you're so mean to me!"
"Hahaha!" America laughed at France. "He's right, though! I mean, England in a dress?"
"W-wot?" Arthur sounded hurt. "Are you saying I wouldn't look good in a dress? Not that I would wear one anyhow, mind you, but still!"
"I would backpedal now, America-san." Japan advised as he discreetly snapped a few photos of Austria while Hungary arranged his arms in an unknowing pose.
"Ohonhon, Japan, send me whatever you have."
Roderich snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes. "What did you just do?"
"Nothing, Austria-san."
"I don't believe you. Hand that phone over."
"But what was all that about not being ashamed of who you are?" Hungary asked shrewdly, grabbing Austria's wrists in a restraining hold. "While you're like this, you may as well give us all something to look back on!"
"I didn't intend to do so like this!" Austria struggled, anger and embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
Switzerland sighed, reaching for his shotgun as the conference room erupted into chaos. "It's always something..."
"Somehow, we've got end up this way." Germany agreed, still looking vaguely gobsmacked. Chaos was a key factor with this group, but for goodness sake, Switzerland's world conferences were supposed to be tame. And it certainly wasn't like Austria to make such a scene. Something about the world today was off.
Two shots later, Vash basked in a quiet room and a seething, cross-dressing musician who now had a roofing bill on his hands.
"Was that really necessary?"
"Oh, as if I'm the one who went over the top today..."
After the conference ended and most everyone had filed out to their respective destinations, Roderich felt the brush of a hand across his wrist. He turned to look questioningly at Vash.
"All this before the final has even begun... What are you going to do if she wins?" He asked, raising his eyebrows purposefully at the musician's attire.
"Well..." Roderich considered the question. "I will tell you a secret, Schweiz." He murmured quietly, a smile playing about his lips. "This is actually her dress. If...when she wins, I might just borrow it again."
Vash rolled his eyes. "You really are something else."
"Aren't we all?" Tucking the day's notes into his leather messenger bag, Roderich prepared to leave.
"Wait." Vash said quietly.
"Was?"
"Would you like to...to come for dinner tonight? I'm sure Lili gets bored of only my company."
"Yes, please join us, Mr. Austria." Lili added. "Although I never get bored of you, Bruder. Well, only sometimes, when you talk about the mechanics of weapons..."
Roderich smiled slightly. The younger nation was still so polite, even after he had long since told her that she didn't have to be so formal with him.
"Danke, but I wouldn't want to impose."
"Just come with us." Switzerland insisted, frowning. "Besides, what if you got lost looking like that?"
"My place is only one border away. I'm not that directional challenged..." Austria began, although he decided to change courses at the pair of disbelieving expressions the two blondes gave him.
"But seeing as it's so important, I suppose I could join you."
A warm feeling uncurled itself within Roderich's heart at the invitation, and he had a good feeling about the future, both immediate and further away. For all Switzerland's abrupt and blunt nature, Austria knew the other Alpine nation would still accept him when it counted most, at times like this.
"Schweiz?" He asked, as a thought occurred to him.
"What is it?"
Mortification shone in rich lavender eyes. "If it's not too much trouble, do you think we might be able to catch up to France or Japan and see about having those pictures deleted first?"
Vash shouldered his rifle purposefully. "I'll talk to them," He promised, gazing at Austria's face. "On one condition."
Roderich cocked an eyebrow. "Ja?"
"At least never grow the beard."
"Of course." Austria smirked. "That's fine." We'll see, he added to himself, just in case.
"Bruder..." Germany locked the door and turned to face the snowy-haired man lounging on the sofa. His face was still blank with the effects of shock.
Some things would not ever be unseen.
"I think you would have liked the meeting today."
"Why's that, West?" The former nation of Prussia glanced up in interest.
"It was...interesting. Check your phone."
"Oh, what happened - MEIN GOTT!"
"You might want to delete those. I think Switzerland and Austria might be seeking retribution."
"Delete them? Are you kidding?!" Gilbert cried out, protectively clutching the device to his chest.
"Or not." Germany agreed easily, shrugging. "It's your head."
"Shh, cover me while I make copies!"
Scrambling off the sofa, Gilbert made a mad dash for the study. "They can't take us all down! This is too good!"
Austria had accomplished one thing successfully. No one would be forgetting that world meeting anytime soon...
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And you have got to see, to believe.
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End
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Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to the Hetalia franchise, the song "Rise Like a Phoenix", or the dress in this story.
AN: I don't even know how I wrote this, really. Real-life events will come and go, and I will be inspired by them after the fact. I was just wondering if Austria ever did any advocating behind the scenes for his lovely Eurovision entry, and this was the result.
Special thanks to two lovely young ladies on another site who drew Austria in a certain someone's dress (one is a true gem, the other is the cat's meow~). That was a ginormous chunk of my inspiration for whatever this turned out to be! ^^