Title: Turning Tables
Author: perfectioninmypride
Summary: In the halls of his own home he finds himself trapped. He can choose to turn away now, avoid the confrontation that is sure to occur… but doing that would be too let Gilbert walk away, leave his home and never come back. Companion fic to Someone Like You
AN: Well here it is! Companion fic to Someone Like You. Just a reminder: This is a companion fic. It's not a direct sequel (and is in fact, set a little bit before Someone Like You), and there will be similarities, but ultimately, this is Austria's story, not Prussia's. However, I promise you that this may not make sense unless you have read Chapter 5 of Someone Like You. For those who have read both Someone Like You and Somebody That I Used To Know, the latter is more of a sequel, and will hopefully start to make more sense after I complete this fic.
DISCLAIMER: Neither Hetalia nor Turning Tables is the property of myself. Both belong to their respective owners.
Part One
18th October, 1748
It is strange to think he was built for war, when, to be frank, most of the time he simply does not know how to fight it. There are those moments, of course, when he feels like he is doing something, feels like for once he is winning, but these moments are brief and far between.
He has spent 8 years of his life fighting this particular battle, and for what? His Archduchess, (who at least has now gained the right to rule)? His pride (that stupid thing that had brought many a lesser man to his doom)? So many lives… so much time…
Status quo ante bellum – the state in which things were before the war. Supposedly, everything will go back to the way it was, after this treaty is signed. He is not stupid though. He is certainly smart enough to feel the aura of change that is growing stronger.
After all, he is the one giving something up today.
"Edelstein."
"Kirkland."
The blond nation nods once, before gesturing towards the door in front of them. He can tell the Englishman is nervous, from the way his foot is tapping incessantly on the ground and the clipped tone of his voice.
"We should be heading in now. They'll be waiting."
He catches the barest hint of a scowl flash across Kirkland's face, and is almost amused. In the 17 years they have been allied, Kirkland has still not learnt to hide his innermost thoughts.
"So let them wait."
His own response is carefully constructed, so not to let the slightest emotion taint it. No one needs to know how utterly… disgusting he feels.
Kirkland simply shrugs, and acknowledges his reluctance. He of all people knows that the moment they head through that door, is the moment they admit defeat.
Neither of them have ever been very good at that.
July 1868
"...what do you want?"
He can hear her voice drifting down the hallway, and the silence that follows her simple question. Elizaveta is not alone, it seems.
He continues walking down the familiar corridor, intentionally making his steps quieter as not to disturb his wife. He had intended to find her as soon as he got home, but she has visitors.
He is on the brink of changing his course when he hears the reply to Elizaveta's question.
"Nothing. I don't want anything from you."
18th October, 1748
"How long do you think we can make them wait before they send someone to force us in there?"
He is interrupted before he has a chance to answer the Englishman's question.
"Long enough."
"Spain." Kirkland's eyes narrow at the appearance of the Spaniard, who is unusually serious.
"Why the formality? Come, Arthur, we have stalled too long."
Kirkland is glowering as Antonio gestures at the door, but makes his way into the room nonetheless. He slams the door after him.
With the Englishman gone, Antonio face softens. This is a look more familiar to him, a gentle smirk gracing his tanned face.
"Roderich."
"Antonio. Could they not find a servant to collect us? Or did they think we would refuse to enter the room without ... personal intervention?"
"Would you believe I chose to walk out myself?"
"Only you would."
"As arrogant as ever, Roderich. I mean that in the best possible way."
"Of course you do."
Antonio's face breaks into a real smile, one that is a little bitter, but a smile nonetheless. The Spaniard's words are somehow comforting, even though at this present moment, they should hate each other.
"You seem insistent on staying out here."
"Give me one reason why I should walk through that door."
"Roderich... you always did hate to lose."
"If-when I walk through that door, I know what is facing me. It's defeat, Antonio. Defeat, and the pity-filled faces of you gloating 'victors'."
"So you're afraid?"
"Afraid of Francis and Prussia? Of course not. I would simply rather not be in their presence."
"Would you rather fight forever? This treaty means an end to this war, you know. You walk in, sign the treaty, and we can all walk out of that room, no longer enemies."
He can't seem to find an appropriate reply as Antonio fixes on him with those bright green eyes.
"You're letting your pride get in the way, Roderich. You always have."
July, 1868
The words halt him in his tracks, conjuring up images of a face and a smile that he has gone a long time without. A face (most likely without the smile- he recognises the pained control in the man's voice) that is here, in his home, speaking to his wife.
Why?
Before he knows it, he has resumed walking, taking too loud footsteps that seem to echo in the silence that lingers after the man's last answer.
"This is about Rod-"
"Don't say it."
Elizaveta's voice is quickly cut off by a barked reply. Cut off in the middle of... his name?
"Oh, Gilbert..."
His suspicions – no, his knowledge, for he knows that voice too well for there to be any doubt in his mind about the man's identity- are confirmed.
18th October, 1748
As he follows Antonio into the room, he is not surprised to see Kirkland and Francis in the midst of a verbal sparring match, which for once, seems to halt immediately as soon as they notice his presence.
"Did you enjoy your little chat out there?" Kirkland's scowl seems to amuse Francis. "Trust me, I had a jolly time in here."
"My apologies."
"Oh, hush Roderich mon ami. There is no need for apologies! Arthur and I were having a good time in here."
"Toni. Glad you finally dragged the princess in here. Any longer and I'm pretty sure these two would have been going at it on the floor."
He can see Kirkland go red as Francis laughs, the Englishman's annoyance with the comment mirroring his own. He knows better than to let Prussia's comment affect him visibly though.
The Prussian is leaning against back wall of the room. He can feel the arrogance (which, frankly, is much more noticeable than his own) practically rolling in waves off the albino, with his cocky smile and proud red eyes.
"You shut your mouth Prussia. Let's just sign this damn thing and get it over with"
Kirkland recovers from his embarrassment quickly, snapping at Prussia and pushing Francis (who has draped himself over the Englishman's shoulders) off himself.
"Patience, mon cher Arthur."
"Kirkland is right. I would much prefer to have this document signed as quickly as possible."
"So eager to leave, Roddy?"
"Don't call me that."
"Aw, but we're friends now. I mean, we'll be friend once we sort out this whole treaty thing. I think we've spent enough time together to use first names."
"We are not friends."
"You're just mad that I whooped your ass, and that you have to give the awesome me Silesia!"
The Prussian's words are so laced with confidence that it becomes hard to keep his own face impassive. Prussia is quick to notice the crack in his cold front, and he curses himself for letting his guard slip.
"Hey, ice queen. Anyone ever told you you're sexy when you're angry?"
The sooner he leaves the room, the sooner he never has to see that stupid Prussian ever again.
July, 1868
"I'm fine. I just came to see..."
It is too soon, simply too soon to see Gilbert. He knows it, Elizaveta knows it… so why was Gilbert here?
"You know what... forget it."
In that moment the world seems to stop turning and he cannot take a step, cannot take a breath. In the halls of his own home he finds himself trapped. He can choose to turn away now, avoid the confrontation that is sure to occur… but doing that would be too let Gilbert walk away, leave his home and never come back.
Instead he just stands there, another statue to line the halls.
A statue who has run out the clock and has been forced to stop pretending, to answer the call of its own name.
He knows he will regret it though.
Two years is not enough time for a shattered heart to heal, no matter how hard he acts like it has.
The War of Austrian Succession occurred between 1740 and 1748 (you guys should know this, it was covered by Himaruya XD. The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed to end the war. Basically, it was negotiated so that everything after the war would go back to the way it was, aside from a few territorial changes. Austria acknowledged Prussia's conquest of the region of Silesia, and gave the Duchy of Parma, Piacenza and Guastalla to Spain, along with some Italian territory. France pretty much came out of the war having gained nothing, due to Louis XV. He wanted to be seen as generous, so withdrew from the Austrian Netherlands, and returned all of his conquests. The French were not ok with this, but the rest of Europe appreciated it, meaning France gained a lot of political influence.
The scenes from 1868 in this chapter cross over with Someone Like You. Again, it might be good for you to read that in order to understand this! :)
