Hello fanfiction lovers! Welcome to my fanfic. This is my first AU. I usually don't like them, but this one seemed to work with me. This is Italy/Fem!Germany, Also, just FYI: I made Gilbert Louise's dad because I feel that the relationship between them is more father/daughter than brother/sister. I think it's just gonna be a two-shot, so look forward to part 2 at some point! Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Masquerade

Louise sighed as she nervously flattened the non-existent wrinkles on her gown. It was a pretty dress, she supposed. She never had much of an eye for fashion. Her dad had bought this dress specifically for tonight. She twisted her torso back and forth a few times, trying to find an angle she liked. It was a shimmery shade of blue, the exact same color as her eyes. Simply cut, it hugged her waist before coming over her sizable breasts. Thank goodness it wasn't a strapless dress. She didn't want to be constantly adjusting the top of her dress the whole night. She flicked the spaghetti straps, testing their strength. The finishing touch was a silky white scarf that she now slipped over her pale shoulders.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, turning away from the floor-length mirror.

Ambassador Beilschmidt ducked his head slightly as he crossed the threshold as if he were embarrassed to enter the room. A toothy grin etched itself on his face as he caught sight of Louise. "Sei bella," he gushed, clapping his hands together.

"Dad!" Louise whined. She wasn't sure what he had just said, but she knew it was embarrassing. Her dad loved to fawn over her, just about as much as he loved the Italians, which was a lot. Ever since he spent a semester abroad when he was in college, according to the stories he tells his peers at parties.

"What did you say?" she demanded.

"I said that you're beautiful," he explained, switching to German He walked across the thick carpet and took her hand. A twinkle in his eyes, he kissed it. "You should brush up on your Italian now that we're here."

She nodded dutifully. It had been a year since she had taken a class in Italian back in Germany. She could only recall some basic words and phrases. Her dad was right. Now that he had been appointed to be the German ambassador to Italy, she'll need more than just the basics to get by.

"Who did your hair?" her dad asked. Her blond locks had been pinned up in a neat bun high on the back of her head. "You didn't do it yourself, did you?'

Louise smirked. Even her dad knew that she couldn't do her hair to save her life. "No, Sofia did it." She was speaking about their live-in maid. A small, elderly Italian lady, she did not speak any German, but seemed to understand completely when she came in to find Louise trying desperately to tame her hair.

"This is for you," her dad said, holding up his other hand. It was a beautiful mask, the same color as her dress. The sequins around the edges glittered in the artificial light of the room. He waved it a little in his hand, causing the blue feather glued to the side to dance.

"Thanks," she responded, taking the mask from him lightly, as if it could bite her. Her dad seemed to notice her reluctance and took her chin between his fingers gently. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "It will be fun. You should lighten up sometimes. It would be good for you. You might even find a boy, eh?" He gave her chin a little shake.

Despite herself, Louise couldn't stop a small smile from crossing her lips. "I doubt it," she countered, turning away from his grip on her chin. "But I'll try to have fun."

"Good," her dad said, nodding. "You know, there's going to be more than just old government-type people at the masquerade. Some awesome young people are coming." He jerked the collar of his tuxedo and puffed out his chest." But they're not as awesome as me, right?"

"Sure dad," Louise laughed. "Whatever you say."

"Here, I'll help you put it on," he offered, taking the mask again. "It's designed to hug your face around the sides so it won't slip off." He flipped it around and fit it on her face. Louise adjusted it with her hands. The inside was covered with some kind of soft material, probably felt. At least she would be able to keep it on the whole night without it itching too much.

"Ah, perfetta," her dad sighed. "You'll have all the boys fawning over you." Louise blushed underneath her mask.

With a small tap on the door, another man in a suit came in the doorway. "Ambasciatore Beilschmidt," he announced. "E 'ora di andare."

Her dad nodded curtly at the man, who disappeared down the hall. He turned back to Louise and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

~.~

The masquerade was being held at the Prime Minister's country villa near Rome. Louise had to stop herself from hanging her mouth open as the mansion came into view. An enormous white tent had been set up in the spacious garden, which teemed with a rainbow of beautiful plants and flowers. The limo traveled down the hill and the garden became blocked by the tall hedges that lined the Prime Minister's estate. Once the limo stopped and the chauffer helped her out, Louise was able to fully appreciate how tall the hedges really were. They towered several feet above her head, casting long shadows from the lamps. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to see her dad, who smiled widely. He wore a black mask similar to her own. Louise allowed him to take her arm and led her through the opening in the hedges.

The garden was alive with mysterious people in elegant clothing, chatting in groups, dancing in pairs. Louise stared as she and her dad walked the garden path, passing many of these masked party-goers, who laughed, talked, and even sang. The air was filled with classical music provided by the small group of musicians on a stand near the tent. Even they wore masks.

"Pretty awesome, right?" her dad murmured in her ear. He seemed to be buzzing with excitement. "It's like something out of a movie."

Even Louise appreciated the authentic quality of the festivities. White tablecloth on dainty tables, beautiful china and wineglasses. Women strutting in magnificent lacey gowns, mysterious men in dark cloaks. The spell was only broken when a girl walked by, her eyes glued to the cell phone in her manicured hands.

"Gilbert, is that you?" called a voice in English. A man with brown hair weaved his way through some party-goers and came to stand in front of them. "It is you, right?" he asked in a heavy Spanish accent, twisting his head to the side comically. His suit was more of a matador costume, with its bright colors and golden designs. A bright red cape was draped over his right shoulder and a mask of the same color adorned his face, making his gleaming green eyes seem to pop.

"Yes, it's me Antonio," Louise's dad laughed, keeping the conversation in English. "It's great to see you here." He slapped the man on the shoulder.

"Same here, mi amigo," the man agreed, returning the gesture. He turned his attention to Louise. "And who is this young lady?"

"Antonio, this is my daughter, Louise. Louise, this is Spanish Ambassador Carriendo."

"It's very nice to meet you, señorita," Antonio greeted Louise, gently taking her fingers and bowing to her.

"It's very nice to meet you, Ambassador," she responded, giving a slight curtsy.

"How polite!" Carriendo commented. "Surely she didn't learn that from you?"

"She's taken after her grandfather, it seems," her dad answered, winking at her fondly. "Very courteous and very serious."

Louise squirmed under the men's collective stares. She despised being talked to like she was an interesting sculpture to be examined. She needed to get away. "I will leave you two to catch up," she told them. "I think I should try to mingle."

"An excellent idea!" Carriendo agreed. He put his arm around her dad's shoulders. "Come, Gilbert! I'll introduce you to Francis. He's the French ambassador, you know and…"

An hour passed. Louise found herself leaning against a stone wall near one of the refreshment tables, sipping from a small cup of punch. Just as her dad predicted, a few young men approached her for a dance, but every time she turned them down, explaining that she did not speak Italian. She occupied the rest of her time by watching the festivities. After the first few minutes of novelty, the masquerade had begun to resemble any other social gathering. The one's she hated. It wasn't that she didn't understand the need to have fun, but parties had always been a mystery to her. This one especially defied any logical explanation. Why wear masks? What was the point in calling back to an earlier time period? Why did Italians drink so much wine?

Suddenly, a shadow crossed her face. The young man that now stood in front of her had appeared almost silently, like a ghost. She maintained her even expression, however, and calmly observed his appearance. His navy blue cloak was of a magnificent quality, almost as if it was an authentic piece from the Renaissance. His elaborate mask added to his already mysterious aura. One side was the same color as his cloak, but the other a deep black. His auburn hair contrasted with the rest of the ensemble, giving it a fiery appearance. One small lock curled outward, a strange quirk on an otherwise suave form. He smiled and his light brown eyes twinkled beneath his mask. As he smiled, Louise felt a pleasant chill run up her spine. She furrowed her brow, disapproving of her body's reaction.

"Ciao bella," he greeted, holding out his hand. "Vuoi ballare?"

"Non parla italiano," she responded, giving him the same line that she gave the other boys.

He retracted his hand a little, but then he smiled mischievously. "Do you speak English, then?" he asked.

Louise was taken aback for a moment. None of the others had tried this tactic. "Y-yes," she reluctantly said. Curse her own honesty.

"Very good!" His smile grew wider. "Let's try again…Hello beautiful. Would you like to dance?"

"Why would I dance with someone I do not know?" She glared at him.

"Come, I insist." He extended his hand further. "You might get to know me while we dance."

Louise sighed. This guy was persistent. He probably would not go away until she agreed. It was just one dance, she reasoned. She would likely never see him again anyway. She gingerly took his hand. "Fine," she agreed. "But only one dance."

"That's plenty of time," he said, pulling her towards him. Surprised by the sudden action, she grabbed at his shoulder to keep herself from falling. He placed his other hand on her waist, steadying her. "Careful," he teased.

She pursed her lips. It was his fault, she thought to herself. But she didn't have time to dwell on this fact for long, however, because he began leading her towards the dance floor. In some way, she was grateful for the mask on her face. It gave her a sense of animosity. Only her dad and Ambassador Carriendo knew who she really was. She silently prayed that her dad didn't see her dancing with this mysterious man. She would never hear the end of his fawning.

They reached the dance floor and began a simple waltz. "You're very good," he commented after a few minutes.

"Thank you," was all she could say.

"Will you tell me your name?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Louise," she told him at last, trying hard to seem disinterested.

"That's a very pretty name," he complimented. There was that alluring smile again, the one that made his eyes twinkle. "My name is Feliciano."

"I guess that is a nice name too," she said, looking away. She was determined to keep as little eye contact between them as possible.

"You are German, right Louise?"

Another chill ran up her spine when he said her name. "Y-yes," she stammered, unaccustomed to the feeling.

"May I ask how you came to Italy?"

"My father is the German ambassador," she answered blankly. Maybe this will put him off, she hoped.

"Beilschmidt, right?" He smiled widely. "I know him!"

"How?" Dread filled her stomach. Did she unknowingly start dancing with an important youth in the government?

"My grandfather is the Minister of Defense," he explained. "I have seen the Ambassador a few times."

"Oh," she sighed, relieved.

"He is a very lively man for his age," Feliciano commented. "He almost seems Italian himself."

"Yeah, that's my father," Louise said, rolling her eyes with bemusement.

"He spoke of you often, I remember. He must be a very doting father."

"Very," she confirmed. She glanced around for a moment. "Hopefully he won't see us dancing."

"He and my grandfather get along very well in that way. He is always showing his friends my paintings, even without my permission."

"You are an artist?" The question was out of her mouth before she realized she had forgotten to seem uninterested.

"It is one of my hobbies," he replied. "It is something to pass the time." He seemed to have a faraway look in his eye for a moment before turning his attention back to Louise. "Do you have a hobby, Louise?"

"Well, I-" At that moment, there was applause as the small concert band finished the waltz.

Feliciano removed his hand from her waist and stood back a step. "It was very nice to meet you, Louise," he said. He bowed to her, putting a hand on his heart. "Our one dance is finished, so I will leave you now." He began to turn away.

"Wait!" Louise snapped. She realized she had reached out her hand to stop him and quickly swung it back to her side as he turned back to face her. She felt her cheeks turn red against her will as she said, "I-I didn't tell what my hobby is."

"Another dance then?"

She nodded silently. His twinkling eyes smiled at her as she took his offered hand.

I hoped you liked it so far! Sorry if you think Italy is OOC. It'll be explained later. Please review and add it to your subscription list! Look for part 2 soon!