A/N: Soooo, KishsAngel and I are having a conversation ove my other story "Aim For the Face" and all of a sudden I'm nailed with this vicious plot that refused to leave me alone. And like all of my plot bunnies, this is a bit silly and possibly a tiny bit cracky. In other words, don't take this fic quite a seriously as you usually would and enjoy ^^

Btw, I also have no idea whether or not yarn was around in the 1700s, as my Internet loves to be vague whenever I ask it something.

Needles, thread, yarn, and—Frederick paused for a moment to check the list—old cloth? He shook his head and continued on. There was rarely a time when Prussia confused him nowadays, but now was one of those times. No matter how many times Frederick's thoughts chased themselves around his skull, he still could not think of a good reason why Prussia wanted any of the materials he just asked him for. He went down the hall and stopped in front of Prussia's door. He quickly transferred all of the bundles to one arm and knocked on the door, waiting for Prussia to answer before he opened it and stepped inside.

"Would you mind explaining to me why you need all of these?" He asked without preamble, his tone more curious than reproachful. He moved to set the bundles down on the table in front of the fireplace.

"I need to make something," Prussia replied, leaning forward in his chair to grab things seemingly at random. He looked nervous and fidgety and was biting his lip without knowing it. It was a startling contrast to his usual self, and Frederick quickly occupied the other chair to watch him.

"You can sew?" The king asked incredulously as Gilbert started to thread some yarn through his needles.

"I'm no seamstress," Gilbert replied absently, "but I know a little something. My father, my—" he paused for a second, his eyes unusually distant, "—my actual father, Aestii, used to say that sewing was one of the greatest skills a person could learn." Another pause, although considerably shorter. "But that was when you had to make everything that you owned."

Frederick just nodded, letting him ramble. Gilbert hardly ever rambled, at least not like this. "Why are you making something now?" he asked. "Surely you can call the tailor or buy something?" His tone turned the words into a question.

Gilbert paused again, and Frederick swore that he looked sad. The crimson eyes turned to the hat that lay on the nightstand next to his chair. It was turned upside down. "He's sick," he said, sounding absolutely miserable.

"What?" Fritz asked in confusion.

Sighing, Prussia carefully grabbed his hat and handed it over, telling him to be careful for the love of god. Frederick nodded and peered inside at the little bundle. "Oh," was all he said.

Gilbird looked up at him and peeped sadly. The little chick was wrapped in what looked suspiciously like a cravat (a quick glance at Gilbert's bare neck confirmed it) and its feathers were fluffed up wildly, making it looked more like a ball of fluffy feathers than an animal. Even as he watched the bird huddled down into the makeshift nest and shivered. It was the saddest, most miserable chick he had ever seen. "He's sick you said?" He asked, gently stroking the bird's head and suppressing a gasp when he felt it lean into the touch.

"Mhmm," Prussia replied, needles clacking away. "I think it's the cold. It's been really wet lately, and the snow outside is more like slush." Something was starting to take shape; it resembled a blanket, but was much smaller. Prussia tried to sit cross-legged in the chair, the absent way he moved hinting that he wasn't really aware that he was doing it.

Regardless, Frederick noticed and would have none of it. "Get your shoes off the furniture," he said. "I won't have you putting boot prints on the chairs."

"Sorry," Prussia murmured, placing his feet back on the floor. "Old habit."

"I do not care. I'm not going to waste money on new chairs."

A grin quirked up on Gilbert's lips. "Don't look now Fritz, but you're starting to sound like your father."

The severe expression on Frederick's face instantly vanished. "I am not!" He protested, glaring blue daggers at the smirking country. "Don't you dare compare me to him!"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," Prussia replied, holding up his hands. "Just a joke." He held up the partially finished yarn blanket in his hands. It was not much bigger than a handkerchief. With all the care of a mother tending to her child, he tucked the garment around Gilbird and patted the chick on the head. "There, you gotta keep him warm, you see." He said and turned his attention to the old scraps of cloth that were originally supposed to go to the garbage and get recycled later. "You don't mind if these get torn?"

"Of course n—" Frederick said and paused when Gilbert started ripping them up anyway, regardless of whether he got a yes or no. "Are you making some sort of nest?" He asked instead, watching the soldier arrange the long strips of fabric into a circular shape.

He got a shrug as an answer. "I thought I would keep him comfortable, giving him a home that he's familiar with," Prussia muttered, smoothing down the feathers again. He set his makeshift hat-nest on the table and slid it closer to the fireplace for a little extra warmth.

"I hope that is not your only cravat," Frederick said, indicating to the bit of white that poked over the brim of the hat. "Those get expensive after a while."

Gilbert made a grimace. "You know I hate them," he complained. "It feels like a noose around my neck." He shifted and made to cross his legs again, but a glare quickly stopped him.

"Such is the price of fashion," Fritz replied calmly. "Besides, we have a dinner tonight."

"Again?" Prussia groaned. "Gods, if I have to sit through another philosophical debate then I swear I'll snap and kill everyone in the room."

Frederick laughed at the suffering look on Gilbert face. "If it pleases you, I shall suddenly contract a most painful headache shortly after dinner. A long walk outside in the fresh, cold air should clear it up miraculously though. Unfortunately, my guests shall have to do without me for a night."

Prussia was grinning widely now. "And being your country, it shall be my duty to accompany you across the grounds."

"It sounds like a good evening," Fritz agreed with a smile. "And dinner should be ready in about an hour from now."

There was a not from Prussia, and he looked back over at his companion. "Think you can live without me for a few hours?" He asked, but the bird was already fast asleep with its head under its wing. Every time it breathed, it made a small chirping noise that was absolutely adorable.

"I think that is a yes," Frederick said with a fond smile that was aimed towards the both of them.

A/N: I just couldn't resist the little hints of Fritz/Prussia thrown in there. It's such a lovely pairing and you don't see a lot of it ;-; Anyways, this really was just an excuse to write up the odd conversations I hear Fritz and Prussia having in my head, seeing as there's hardly plot to begin with.