A/N: This was just a bit of OOC practice. I really love this pairing, and I want to write more of it, but I haven't quite got them down yet. Though, I still like this short fic.

I feel this is so OOC simply because of the soft setting of it. There's not much soft Austria or Hungary, and I really wanted it to just be soft, and relaxing. I really like how it turned out though, and it was nice to take a break from all the angst I've been writing lately.


A picnic blanket and a chair. A beautiful lady, hair blowing in the wind as she watched the butterflies dance around the flowers, and a well-dressed man, fingers brushing daintily across her shoulders. A soft, comfortable silence over them, alone in a field. Happy, content. Words neither had been able to describe anything for a very long time.

Elizabeta leaned back, her head falling against his knee, and his fingers moved to play with strands of hair. She sighed softly, turning her head to press a kiss to his knee, whispering happy words, and gentle encouragement.

Roderich brushed his fingers her hair, admiring the way it was so easy, her hair so soft, so smooth, and Elizabeta practically purred as he curled locks around his slender fingers.

"Braid it?"

He just smiled softly, and began parting her hair into three, the way he had done for her so many times.

"Hey, Roderich?"

Roderich hummed in reply, focusing entirely on braiding her hair.

"I got you something."

Again, he just hummed in reply, tying off the braid with a rubber band.

"I want you to close your eyes though."

"Oh, really, don't be silly, Elizabeta."

"Close your eyes, Roderich." Eliza shifted onto her knees, setting herself between Roderich's legs. "You trust me, don't you?"

"With my life," he replied.

"Then close your eyes." Elizabeta kissed his cheek, before moving away. "Don't move."

"I won't."

In the basket she'd prepared, right at the bottom, she pulled out a small box. With a deep breath, she kneeled before him, box held out, and whispered, "Open your eyes." Roderich didn't say anything as he looked at the box, he just smiled softly, the way he often did when he looked at Eliza. She opened the box. Inside, a ring she'd spent days, weeks, months trying to find. The perfect ring, for her perfect man.

Elizabeta had always been brave, she never showed fear, never let her worries get the best of her. She took the world as it was, and thundered ahead without an essence of doubt. Roderich, on the other hand, showed fear, and always let his worries get the best of him. Eliza didn't care though, she smiled widely as she made her speech, telling Roderich all the reasons she loved him; his caring nature; love for music; the soft smiles he saved only for her; the way she wakes up at three in the morning and he'd be sat at his piano, composing yet another piece of music for her. She was his inspiration, and he was hers.

Roderich didn't need to say anything, he never was good with words, he just nodded and smiled, letting her slide the ring on his finger, and she smiled too. Happy, content. Words both knew they could only feel when they were together.

"Thank you," she whispered, holding him against her chest.

"What are you thanking me for?"

It was Elizabeta's turn to stay silent, as she pulled away to look at his hand, ring glistening in the early July sun. "It's a perfect fit," she finally said, moving to sit down back against his legs.

"Just like you and I," Roderich added, kissing her head.

There was a lot of history between the people in the field, arguments they didn't think they'd get over, fights that lasted months, their first kiss, their first time. Everything was history, a memory, whether good or bad, is what kept them strong. People had tried to come between them, telling them they weren't good for each other. They both knew though, sitting in that field, they were all the other needed. Love, and happiness. Happy, and contentment. That was Roderich and Elizabeta.


I made Eliza propose because I can imagine that more than Roderich proposing. I also hate the 'men have to propose' bullshit, it's 2017, if a woman loves her man, why can't she propose? Why is that so weird?