A/N: This is my take on a historical event, the Battle of Morgarten, better known as the turning point for Swiss independence from Austria. I'm going to be overriding Hetalia manga!canon in one point, in that I regard Switzerland and Austria as already being teenagers (or the like) by this time, 1315. This is both because I'm uncomfortable with writing moe!chibis in combat situations, and because I expect nations to become more mature during independence.
There is no outright shipping in this story; it's more of a character study that explores how Switzerland's former friendship with Austria came to an end in a (hopefully) historically accurate manner. However, I'd always be happy to find other Swiss/Austria fans. Please offer any suggestions or critiques you'd like.
The knights came. Row upon row of heraldic decor and burnished armor marched upon the vale, seated astride war-chargers decked to the teeth. Grass fell beneath their feet and was ground into the mud as more marched over them. Behind the grim knights with their lances followed men-at-arms carrying great blades, and behind them, foot soldiers in glittering mail. The host of Austria, a vast silver stream, flowed down the narrow mountain pass between lake and sun.
They were going to war, these chivalrous knights. Maybe not even that; they were going to put down a rebellion, for the Swiss had finally demanded an independence that was not theirs. They had but to cross the Morgarten Pass to reach the canton of Schwyz, where they would dispatch a few fool peasants and cement Austrian rule once and for all. So the Swiss had formed a so-called confederation; the knights were not concerned. They were the might of Austria, the best of the brave, and they were not rats to be rattled by rabble.
In the multitude, one head lay unhelmeted. Roderich Edelstein rode to war among his fighters.
A starling flew chattering from the mountainside, but no knight looked up. If one had, he might have caught a glimpse of brown cloth vanishing again into the undergrowth on the mountain slope, high above the narrow pass. Yet the Swiss, who knew the mountains, went unnoticed amidst crags and broken stone. They watched.
Atop a rocky outcropping, Vash Zwingli waited. He saw the silver stream creeping closer, his own men silent in the underbrush, and finally, the brown, unhelmeted head in a sea of metal. Roderich did not see him, Vash knew, and probably would not see until it was too late. He felt a twinge of pity that he might have called sadness in younger days, but which he now shook away brusquely. After their last meeting, Vash had but one thing left to do, and then he never wanted to see Roderich again.
Soon after the death of Rudolf I of Habsburg, then-Holy Roman Emperor, Vash had gone to see Roderich. He did not expect a warm welcome as he strode unannounced into the great Habsburg hall, and Roderich did not offer him one.
"How nice to see you again." Roderich said coldly. He sat upon a golden throne too large for his slim frame, and his black mourning garb, Vash thought, made him look like a bat. "Please don't offend my intelligence by pretending you're here to offer condolences for Rudolf. You hated him."
"Then I won't." Vash retorted. "We both know why I'm here, Rod-"
"Austria."
"What?"
Roderich laughed. "I am no longer a child. I have come into my rightful rule, and that name will no longer be used. Especially not by you, Vash."
They were not getting off to a good start. Vash pressed on anyway. "The Emperor of the Romans is no longer Habsburg. I and my people answer only to the Emperor, as per the Reichsfreiheit – not to Habsburg rule. I may have tolerated Rudolf I's taxes, but now that he's dead, I want your tax-collectors and lords out of my lands immediately."
"Really." Roderich said. He stood, his cloak swirling irritably. "How funny. And I suppose that little 'confederation' your people formed is going to enforce such demands? Schwyz and some other rats, was it?"
"Schwyz, Uri, and Unterwalden, my forest cantons." Vash snapped. "If you knew that they've united, Roderich, then do me the courtesy of remembering that I am the Swiss Confederation just as much as you are Austria!"
"Swiss, you say?" Roderich mused.
Vash jumped as the other man's pretense of calm shattered. "The Swiss Confederation? A confederation of dunces! Do you honestly expect me to acknowledge the high-minded pretensions of a mob of peasants? The forest cantons belong to me, to the Habsburgs! I will not remove my lords from a land rightfully mine!"
"Choose your next words more carefully, Roderich." Vash growled. He felt cold. It had come down to this, after all. "I – my people – belong to no one, and there is a limit to the amount of tyranny we will tolerate."
Roderich laughed bitterly. "Tyranny? The rights to your lands lie in Habsburg hands, and no earthly power would argue otherwise! Do you honestly think Rudolf I will be the last Habsburg Emperor? My house is growing, Vash; the Habsburgs are becoming more powerful by the day, and you would do well to remain on their – and my – good side. Otherwise..." He made a careless gesture. "Your confederation may have a shorter lifespan than you expected."
Vash shook his head. "I don't take threats well, Roderich. Don't underestimate me; you of all people should know better."
"You are the one who ought not to underestimate me!" Roderich snapped back. "I am no longer the weakling incapable of holding a sword and needing your coddling, Vash! Will you rebel? Go on, do! I will show you the extent of my power, and make you understand that I have finally become stronger than you!"
"Stop raving." Vash said coldly.
This entire visit is a waste, then, he thought, gazing at Roderich. He had grown distant from Austria – Roderich - during the reign of Rudolf I, but even then he had not expected the other to change so greatly. The haughty, vindictive Roderich that stood before Vash now bore no resemblance to the boy Vash once knew. He continued, bitterly, "I don't give a damn about which of us is stronger. But if you won't listen, then I'll do what's best for my people – with or without your interference."
"I shall look forward to seeing you try."
Roderich smiled, suddenly calm, but his eyes remained frosty. "Perhaps we will meet again over this topic, and then I will not be responsible for my actions, Vash. You should leave now."
Vash spun about and left the hall without a word.
Austria gazed after the departing figure, sighed, and turned back towards the throne. Vash did not understand. The Habsburgs needed his lands and people as an open route to Italy, but Austria needed him - to prove against, to control, and to be a part of himself. Vash had always been strong; Austria would defeat him and prove himself worthy to command that strength. They would be powerful together, a force to rival the Holy Roman Empire, but first he had to convince – no, force – Vash to see reason.
Austria had been entirely serious when he suggested that Vash rebel.