She is beautiful, he thinks to himself. He moves into the room almost soundlessly, watching her shadowed form as she replaces the bandages on her arms. Roderich has been practicing these lines for nearly a week. After all, it has been a week since…he doesn't want to think about it now. It is an event that is done and over with, and he is here to offer apologies and beg for her sweet forgiveness.

And betray her once again.

He can only pray she'll receive him in understanding, and accept what his duty demands of him. He has been told to…no, he doesn't want to think about that either. There is really no thought he can bear to think, so he clears his mind and empties his heart of emotion. She will have to understand. After all, Roderich does not want to commit the foul crime that he has been commanded to do. His stomach turns and his throat goes dry at the very thought. As if this wasn't enough; he just can't stop shaking.

"Elizaveta, how are you feeling?" he asks, trying to mask the fear that is painfully obvious in his voice. "I hope well?" It is difficult to voice his concern without sounding terribly emotional. But he has to keep detached, or this will be impossible. He can't start thinking about how he feels, or he will turn away indefinitely.

Gentlemen weren't trained for such tasks as these.

"Quite fine, Austria." she spouts sarcastically in reply. She places all her emphasis on his nation name, implying she is too upset to refer to him by his human. Despite this, her face is as bright and cheerful as always; a fact which makes Roderich even more uneasy.

He is unused to such an attitude from the Hungarian. They have always been friendly, despite political affairs. Why would she disregard this friendship now? She must certainly know that some happenings that have transpired are Austria's, not Roderich's fault.

"I'm glad to hear that." he says automatically.

"I'm sure." she murmurs. "I'm sure you and Russia are planning on slaughtering thousands more of my people." She waves him away with a bandaged arm. "Just go. I haven't the energy to deal with you right now."

He winces. This so hard for him, doesn't she realize that?! He's never been on the receiving end of Elizaveta's hatred, but it's very apparent with the way she is glaring at him that he can now say he has. She's always been warm and gentle towards him. "You have to listen to me." The brunette is upset with how defensive he sounds. "I wasn't one of the men on that battlefield, my dear." Roderich sighs, taking a heavy step closer. "So please, I ask for your forgiveness."

Green eyes focus on him and wander all over his trembling form. They dart from his stone-still face, then to the shine on his boots, then back up to a few stray locks of chocolate brown hair. She is about to oblige to the man's plea when she is seized by her wrists, suddenly being forced to struggle against a surprisingly strong grip.

"Elizaveta, I-" he trails off, his eyes closed. She is thrashing against him, and every feeling he has had since receiving orders is starting to break free from his shell. He clears his throat and forces himself to stop thinking, to just stop. Before he knows it, he is pushing her against a wall and muttering what he has been told to say. "You cannot leave my empire. I will not allow it. You cannot be independent." Roderich's voice is monotone, his actions forceful and uncharacteristic. "If I have to, I will be forced to reclaim my territory." He forces his body to press against her in a suggestive manner, even though he is internally screaming that this must end.

"Let me go, Austria! This is completely unlike you! What the hell is wrong with you?!" she grunts, trying to twist her body away from him. It is surprising the Austrian can keep his hold on her. She tells herself she'd have been able to escape had he not taken her by surprise. He's never been like this. A fear starts to swell inside her mind, clouding her reason. He's never been like this. Never. Never!

Never!

She weighs her options. She's never harmed him before, not in anger. Definitely not for self-defense. However; a moment before she plans to give him an old-fashioned kick in the vital regions, he slumps away, almost in a possessed state.

"I can't do this. Elizaveta, I can't." His voice is hoarse and fading, like somebody falling from the edge of a cliff and screaming for their life. "I can't do it." He covers his face and curls into a nearby corner.

Hesitantly, she hurries to the door and opens it, ready to run down the hall and right out of the nation's home.

But she can't leave him like this.

"Roderich?" She kneels beside him, still wary of a sudden attack. "Roderich, what can't you do?"

"I can't do it." Of course he can't do it! He's known he can't since the day he received orders! Violating his dearest Elizaveta? Violating somebody he's quite sure he's in love with? He feels he is the most disgusting monster ever. He feels he is undeserving of the beautiful young woman hovering over him, trying to dry the tears from his face. He feels he deserves to be hanged.

"My bosses told me to…break you." he chokes, starting to sob. "Frighten you. Elizaveta, I came here today to invade you." The crying man turns away, not wanting to see the expression on her lovely face. "They thought it would help us quiet this revolution. Believe me! I fought against this command! I begged them. But their word was final, and I had no choice but to…" He turns back suddenly, a look of total devastation on his face. "You must hate me." His tone is composed, almost normal now.

She doesn't answer right away, leading him to believe he is correct.

"I'm so sorry. I hate myself as well." Roderich stands, collecting himself as he does so. If his eyes weren't so red, no one could tell he'd been disheveled in the first place.

"No." She grabs the cuff of his shirt and yanks him back down to the ground. "I don't hate you. This isn't your fault." Her hands slide around his, enveloping them in her soft warmth. It takes a moment for her to realize she's begun to fight tears off as well. "I hate this."

"What?" He grasps her hands tighter, fighting off the urge to kiss her.

"I don't want to be a nation anymore. It ruins everything." For the first time since the incident several moments ago, their gazes meet. "I don't want to fight you."

"And I want you to be free. Power be damned, I want to see you independent." He reaches up to cup the side of her face with his hand. "I have no desire for you to feel caged like this. Austria can't do anything, but Roderich would give his life for you."

She smiles, but it is sad and full of longing. "Hungary is only fighting for its independence; Elizaveta is in love with you." A soft sigh comes from her as she suddenly shifts forward, burying her face into his neck and starting to sob again. "I love you."

"I love you as well." That feels wonderful to say, he thinks to himself.

He wraps his arms around her, embracing her and this bittersweet moment. If only they are human. There would be no silly disputes when they aren't angry with each other; their happiness at finding love wouldn't be tainted by wars and bloodshed. They wouldn't have to waste time on battlefields or tending to frequent wounds. If only they are human.

But they are not, so all they can do now is cry into each other's shoulders, wishing and dreaming.

Loving and fighting.

This is based on Hungary's war for independence from Austria. In June 1849, Russian and Austrian troops entered Hungary (who had recently tried to set up a stronger government and break some ties with Austria). Hungarian forces were far outnumbered, and thousands were killed.

However; I can't exactly see the two of them at war personally, seeing as I ship them a whole awful lot. So behold! I give you horribly OOC and overdramatic angst instead! Also, I don't usually write in present tense, so I might have a mistake or two!

Oh! And somebody else really needs to write an Austria/Hungary fic soon. The last one that wasn't written by me was posted on the site over two weeks ago. Am I the only one who loves them? ;_;

-Lissa