Hallo, meine Freunde!
Aw, look at me putting my rudimentary German skills to use... (no, seriously, I'm self-taught...). Anyways, this is just a little Christmas Eve oneshot I threw together, inspired by my adventures baking German Christmas cookies with my dad (a tradition of ours). His family is Prussian/German (and Scottish, but we'll ignore that bit xD), so it put me in a very Hetalian mood. And let's just say it was a little... interesting this year.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Crash!
Germany winced. From the hotel kitchen came the sound of clanging metal cookware, something which was never a good sign. Especially when he was sharing said room with his brother.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Prussia poked his head in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the bedroom area.
"What do you think I'm doing?"
"...Destroying the kitchen?"
Prussia laughed. "Destroying? West, you are so paranoid sometimes. I am baking."
Germany wasn't aware his brother could bake. On second thought... he couldn't.
He stood up from his seat on the bed. "Why on earth are you baking?"
"Psh, you want to go to the party empty-handed?"
"The party...?"
Prussia rolled his eyes. "America's Christmas Eve party? Tonight? That we're supposed to bring food to?"
The brothers, along with all the other nations, were staying in New York for the latest world conference. As it had landed around Christmas time, the meeting had also been deemed an appropriate time for an international get-together the day after the meeting. Christmas Eve. There was, however, one thing Germany had apparently missed.
"We're supposed to bring food? he asked.
"Duh. Everyone's supposed to bring some traditional Christmas food," Prussia said.
"I didn't realize America was that culturally aware."
"I think it was Canada's idea."
They stood there in silence for a moment.
"What exactly were you planning on making?" Germany finally asked.
Prussia rolled his eyes again. "Lebkuchen." He held up a sheet of paper, practically shoving it in Germany's face. He took it from his brother's hands. Sure enough, the list of ingredients was labeled with the name of the Christmas cookies at the top.
He scanned it carefully.
"Do you even have all the ingredients?"
Prussia snorted. "Of course I have all the ingredients. Look at the list, look at the counter. It's not that hard, West."
"I see. I just noticed you were missing one of them, so-"
"-missing one?! What am I missing?"
"Zitrone," he said nonchalantly. "At least, I don't see any lemons."
Prussia smacked his forehead. "The candied lemons! I knew I was forgetting something!"
"But you just said you had-"
"-West, we are going to the grocery store to find lemons. Now!"
"We?"
"Don't you want to help? Or are you making something else?"
Germany sighed. There went his afternoon.
*ヘタリア*
"This is ridiculous! How can America's grocery store not have candied lemons!" Prussia said, folding his arms.
"This isn't exactly Christkindlmarkt. I'm pretty sure Nürnberger Lebkuchen aren't a traditional American Christmas food. And not all Lebkuchen recipes even have lemons in them," Germany said rationally, looking around the store.
"Hmph. Well ours does, so we are finding those lemons even if it takes all day."
Germany sighed. "How about candied citron?" he said, holding up a package. "That's almost the same thing."
"Bruder," Prussia said, putting a hand on Germany's shoulder, "Does the recipe ask for candied citron?"
"No, but-"
"-no buts. We are finding those lemons. To another grocery store!"
*ヘタリア*
"Bruder, we've been to three stores. At this rate, we won't have time to make cookies of any kind, lemons or no lemons. Why don't we just go back to the first store and get the candied citron?"
"I will not let those imitation lemons defile the awesomeness of my Lebkuchen!"
"But what happens when you don't have any at all?"
Prussia deflated slightly. "Fine. We'll get the stupid citron. But if it poisons us or something, don't complain to me! Fortunately, I think my awesomeness provides immunity to evil fruit impersonators..."
Germany rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. In truth, it may already have been more.
*ヘタリア*
When they arrived back at the hotel room, candied citron in hand (or, as Prussia called it, "imitation lemons lacking souls"), Germany took a deep breath.
"I'll get started measuring the ingredients, do you think you can crack the eggs?"
"Eggs? I am a master egg-cracker. Observe the awesomeness." He looked around the room. "Where are the eggs?"
"...In the refrigerator, I hope. You're the one who bought them."
"Psh, I knew that."
While Prussia looked for the eggs, Germany started measuring the ingredients into bowls. He just wished all the utensils in the hotel kitchen were metric, not... well, not whatever bizarre measuring system America used. It made no sense, and he wasn't exactly fond of doing conversions in his head to make sure the amount sounded right.
"Hey, West, can I use this bowl to put the eggs in?" Prussia said, picking up a glass container on the counter. As he did so, clear liquid splattered around the kitchen. Germany smacked his forehead.
"Oops. It looked empty. Why did you have a bowl full of water, anyway? That's not in the recipe."
"It wasn't water, Dummkopf. That was the rum for the glaze..."
"...Reeeeally?" Prussia licked his finger, which was covered in it. "Oooh, it is."
"...and now the kitchen smells like rum."
"There's a problem with that?"
"Well, it's not exactly our kitchen. And now we don't have enough rum to make the glaze..."
"Oh."
"Don't worry, I'll go buy some more. Can you mix everything else together?"
"Easy!" Prussia said. "You can count on me little bruder!"
Germany was slightly more skeptical.
*ヘタリア*
When he returned, Germany was pleased to see that the kitchen had not only not caught on fire, but was filled with the smell of baking cookies.
Prussia flashed him a grin as he entered the door. "Told you I could handle it. I even got the batter perfectly on the Oblaten. These cookies will be beautiful. As I expected."
"Where on earth did you get Oblaten?"
"I brought them from home..."
"You really did plan ahead, didn't you?"
"Duh. It's only natural..."
"Actually, I was about to say it was a miracle."
"Be quiet, West."
Germany looked at the clock, then at the timer.
"If we're going to prepare for the second wave of cookies, I'll need to get started on the glaze now."
"Pffft," Prussia laughed. "Second wave? What is this, cookie-baking or a military invasion?"
Germany sighed. "Just mix together some more dough for the next batch."
"Next batch?"
"If you want enough for everyone, we're going need to make quite a few..."
"Oh! I'm on it, West!" Prussia slid over to the counter, where about half the boxes and bottled were still sitting out. He started to measure the ingredients, and Germany turned his attention towards the stove.
As he let the glaze mixture heat, Germany looked back towards his brother. He just about had a heart attack.
"What are you doing?!"
Prussia rolled his eyes. "I'm just measuring out the vanilla for the cookies..."
"Bruder, that is not vanilla..."
"Huh?" Prussia said, righting the bottle and turning it so he could read the label.
On the side, in large brown letters, it said "Molasses".
"Melasse? It looks just like the Vanille bottle!"
"Why do you even have molasses?"
"I don't know. Why are you asking me?"
"You bought it!"
"No I didn't. I don't even know where this came from," Prussia said, twisting the cap back on. Germany slapped his forehead and handed his brother the actual bottle of vanilla.
"I think you still have rum on the brain..." he muttered.
*ヘタリア*
As soon as the first batch was out of the oven, Germany carefully laid the cookies out on a wire rack to dry. The hotel kitchen was surprisingly well stocked. Well, either that or Prussia had carried over more baking supplies than Germany was giving him credit for. He supposed that could explain why their suitcases were so heavy. He gave him a sideways glance.
Prussia, who was shoving the next batch into the oven and singing loudly (and off-key), smiled at him.
"Die Hoffnung und Beständigkeit,
gibt Trost und Kraft zu jeder Zeit.
O Tanne- ouch! Ach, I burned my finger!"
Germany shook his head.
"Why don't you stop injuring yourself and try putting some of this glaze on these things? I have to make some more."
Prussia, sucking his finger, shut the oven door and walked over. Germany handed him the bowl of glaze cautiously. He accepted it gladly, diving straight into the task. It took about three seconds for that to go wrong as well.
"Oops," he said. "This one's going to have a little extra, West."
Germany sighed. "Can you do nothing without causing a disaster?"
"Disaster? What are you talking about? I'm making these cookies awesome!"
"I'm not sure 'awesome' is the word for it."
"Say what you want, they'll be delicious. Except, of course, for the imposter lemons."
"Would you shut up about the lemons!"
*ヘタリア*
Several hours, more bowls of glaze than were necessary, and a couple more burned fingers later (all of which were Prussia's fault, incidentally), the lebkuchen were done. Carefully wrapped onto a large serving plate (in an overloaded pyramid Prussia described as a great feat of engineering and Germany called a structural failure waiting to happen), the cookies finished baking just in time to be shared with the rest of the nations at the Christmas Eve party.
Fortunately, it seemed their hard work (mostly Germany's) had paid off. America in particular, felt the need to flag them down, with Canada in tow. Italy had just tackled Germany, much to the blonde's embarrassment, when the two North American brothers appeared.
"Dude, Hungary said you guys made these. They're delicious! Um... what are they again?" America grinned.
"Lebkuchen," Germany said.
"Huh?"
"Lebkuchen."
"Come again?"
"Leb... gingerbread. Just call it gingerbread. I'm glad you like them - we had a few... mishaps... in making them."
"Mishaps?"
"Yeah!" Prussia said, "In the first place, we couldn't find any candied lemons. Germany had another plan, but I insisted we had to have them. America, your grocery stores are insane, did you know that?"
"Huh?" America said. "What do you mean?"
"Actually, it is my Bruder here who is insane," Germany muttered in response. "We found candied citron at the first store, but he insisted that we couldn't make our Lebkuchen without candied lemons."
Canada took a bite from a cookie he was holding, thought for a moment, and then turned to Germany.
"That's funny," he said. "I don't taste any lemon..."
"That's because we never found any!" Germany said, frustrated. "We had to go back to the first store, after visiting two others!"
"I'm telling you," Prussia insisted, "his grocery stores are part of some Christmas cookie conspiracy. For the sake of alliteration and evil."
A/N: So before you even ask - yes, I really was as accident prone in the kitchen as Prussia. The rum, molasses, and glaze incidents really did occur (and while I was wearing my chicken apron - coughcoughGilbirdcough- no less xD). As did my protests about the citron. Seriously, does no one in this country carry candied lemons?
Translations:
Lebkuchen - the kind of cookies (specifically Nürnberger Lebkuchen, as there are multiple kinds)
Bruder - brother
Zitrone - lemons
Christkindlmarkt - a German Christmas market
Dummkopf - fool
Oblaten - these little wafers that go on the back of the cookies
Melasse - molasses
Vanille - vanilla
Prussia is singing the third verse of "O Tannenbaum" before he burns his finger. Another thing I was doing in the kitchen...
And for anyone here who has read my story "England's Christmas Carol", yes, this is indeed a slight tie-in. That dialogue at the end might sound a bit familiar. =)
That's about it. Thanks for checking this out! Reviews and such would still be appreciated, even though this is pretty short.
Fröhliche Weinachten, everyone!