So, Hetalia. Geez I jump all over the place with my fandoms-and besides that I haven't written a fanfiction that wasn't some form of slash in SO LONG. But my love for Hungary outdoes my normal tendencies. Hungary is just such an awesome character, an dI love her, Prussia and Austria so much. They just really make my day. Hungary's got such great and interesting relationships with those two.
But anyways-This isn't any specific Historic event-unless you count Hungary coming under Austrian rule a big point-but that's not really what this one-shot is about so I won't be giving any real details on that. This is really a coming into her gender sort of fic for Hungary. (and starting to love Austria too ) So I hope you enjoy and don't sweat the Historic details for this one-I'll be writing other Hetalia fics where there's actually some history-but this is really just for character love more than anything.
I do not own Hetalia in any which way.
Hungary had never liked the whole gender thing. Because really, what was the point of it? There was none. So she didn't have that…thing Prussia was always flashing when he had to go to the bathroom. So what? There wasn't any difference between the two of them. She could still beat Prussia in a wrestling match and still outrun him.
That is until she got a bit older. She was under the impression that Prussia did not bleed between his legs once a month. It was painful and uncomfortable and terrible-but that only made her stronger, because wimpy Prussia probably couldn't deal with that sort of pain could he? Though, there was the growing difference in their statures. Prussia was growing stockier, his shoulders broader and his torso thicker. Her hips were rounding out and to her dismay her shoulders did not grow out, but her chest did. Muscles she had thought of them at first when they had appeared. When she was a child and she and Prussia had tussled in the water and they took off their tunics to dry they had looked the same in the chest. Surely she just needed to work harder to make her muscles as firm as Prussia's. How wrong she was.
They were grappling as usual, fighting over something stupid and Prussia had reached out and grabbed them. Those stupid useless muscles that weren't helping at all. She yelped. Hungary did not yelp when she was grabbed. But when Prussia touched them-it was shocking and instantly she struggled to get away and out of his grasp. He had cackled and proclaimed he had found a new weak spot-triumphant in her defeat. She hit him with the pommel of her sword on his head for that remark. From then on she tried so hard to hide those useless things on her chest. She bound them, wore shirts that didn't show them, tried so hard to pretend that she was no different. They were both men-both equal.
She couldn't keep up with him anymore-his legs were longer and easily out strode her in the forest and he found it easier to gain advantage in their fights. His arms were stocky, wired with muscles that you could see, her muscles were hidden beneath her skin, only visible when she flexed them whereas Prussia's were prominent. His legs were sturdy and hers were softer-curvier. It was scary. Why was she changing? Wasn't she a man too? Wasn't she just like Prussia?
Apparently not. She didn't want to believe it though. She liked being able to run around in the wild and ride horses and fight with swords and grapple with Prussia. She liked talking in coarse words and swearing. She liked wearing breeches and tunics. Even though she would later admit she thought that those dresses she would see on some of Prussia's women friends were very pretty. She liked not having to worry and fuss over table manners and how she acted around other people.
That was until Prussia found out. That hadn't been good. That was the end of it, no more pretending. Even Prussia had to treat her differently now. She had to accept it. She was a girl. A girl who would have to submit to the men around her and curtsy and serve tea. It was a terrible moment for her to realize it. What was even worse was that when she accepted it-she was forced far too soon into a role she did not want.
Servitude.
To that wimp Austria no less! How many times had she beaten him in wars or in play fights? How many times had she been able to beat him without even trying? And here she was having to serve him? Oh no. No no no no no. She could not possibly stand that.
Gone was her chest of tunics and pants and replaced was a closet of dresses and aprons. Her hair was forced to be held in a kerchief, and she was being tortured by some contraption the other maids called a corset. She was smothered. No. This was not how the free and proud Hungary was supposed to live. She was supposed to run through the forest with Prussia and hunt and win wars-not sweep floors and make tea in ridiculously expensive china. She already hated this stupid wimp Austria and she hadn't even seen the man in the humungous house yet. She was going to change that. She was going to march right up to him and proclaim that she was not going to take this treatment. She was going to-
But then she heard him playing piano. Oh that had changed everything. She had been so furious when she had stormed up to his study and she was so ready to chew him out-but she had to stop. She had to stop and listen to that beautiful music. That music that was flowing from that room from that man's fingers. Her jaw had dropped. How different he was from the runt of the litter that she and Prussia had beaten up so many times.
The man before her was handsome. Beautiful even she would admit. He had finally stopped slicking his hair back in that horrid fashion he wore as a child and his hair, and though kempt, was a bit wild, a cowlick sticking up rebelliously. His clothes were neat and his whole air well kept. His face, oh dear his face. Had he always looked so happy? So content? She couldn't move from the doorway at that point. She simply waited and listened as the music finally ended and the man before her seemed to exit out of a trance.
She had frozen when he saw her. She had blushed too. Hungary did not blush she-
"Oh…I'm sorry, I didn't see you there, would you like to come in?"
Oh yes Hungary did blush, as it increased tenfold as she heard his voice. Rich, well mannered. So unlike her own. She gaped and tried to form words but she simply could not. He smiled and stood, walking towards her and her eyes widened, frozen to that spot like a deer.
"I don't believe we got to reintroduce ourselves when you entered my home. I'm Austria, though since you share my house you may call me Roderich Edelstein," He bowed and gave a gallant smile, "It is a pleasure to have you here Miss Hungary," his welcome was warm and polite and so much different than she had expected.
"A-Ah…" words finally came back into her power, "I'm Hungary…Elizabeta Héderváry, it's a uh…pleasure to make your acquaintance," she fumbled over the greeting and shakily curtsied. Her legs did not do that stupid bob-they crouched and sprang and leaped and kicked, they did not-
"Elizabeta…What a beautiful name,"
She was undone again. A frantic nod and she bobbed another hasty curtsy and ran away. She couldn't face that man. Dear god…why was her stomach in knots? Her heart was racing, racing in only the way it had for hunts and games and riding. Since when did the great nation Hungary get weak in the knees for a prissy nobleman? This was not good.
And yet she found herself paying more attention to the horrible, crone like woman who was teaching her etiquette. Sitting up straighter and not slurping her broth. Learning how to dance those overly complicated dances and balancing a tray of tea in one hand and holding a tray of treats in the other. Learning the proper way to sweep and clean dishes. She was learning all the things that she had never wanted a thing to do with. There were times when she couldn't stand it. Times where she would storm about and huff. Times when she would march right up to that study and was going to yell that Austria could blow it out his a-
Then she would listen to him play the piano and she would calm. The raging emotions would fade and she would stare in awe at the man at the piano. She would relax and think maybe it wasn't so bad she was here. As long as she was able to listen to the piano. As long as Roderich still smiled when he caught her in the doorway.
"Yo! Eliza, wanna go hunting?" Gilbert's voice was loud and obnoxious as usual, but the promise of hunting. She hadn't hunted in ages. Just the thought of putting on breeches and a tunic and worn leather boots and running through the wild sent a thrill through her bones. She had to fight the urge to go with the man. Oh how she wanted to go. But she could almost hear Roderich playing piano and the urge had to be squashed.
"Maybe some other time," she could tell her voice was strained. She REALLY did want to go. But no. She would stay with Roderich. The Roderich who had kind smiles and beautiful music and excellent manners.
After some time she got to know Roderich better. He wasn't as self assured as he seemed on the surface for one thing. Once she stopped being so stupefied by his playing and started acting more like herself, she found he was easily flustered by offhand comments and she could even disarm his normally clear face with a blush with the right words and a well timed smile.
So the mystery of the man she lived with had disappeared. So he wasn't as completely wonderful as he had seemed. It didn't matter. There was something about him that made her as though it was alright to be a girl. It was alright that she wasn't a man. Why? Because she realized if she were a man there would be no gentle moments with Roderich watching him play piano, or having him offer a hand to her when she tripped on the godforsaken heels that the other women in the household wore. There would be no yearning for a dance with the nobleman so she could feel his hand on her waist and hold his hand in hers.
She still wanted to roam wild and free, running with no shoes on through the forest and slouch and curse and hunt with Gilbert, but life with Roderich was nice. Calm. Different than her wild blood was used to, but none the worse. After all, Roderich was so good at playing piano, and as long as she could hear that, she could be content to stay indoors a bit longer.
Not bad right? This is the first of some interconnected pieces I'm writing revolving around Hungary, Prussia and Austria. Prussia's the next one lined up for his two bits. Then I think it's Hungary again and then finally I'll write something from Austria's point of view. Anyways-How'd you like it? I'd love to hear what you think of it and if you'd like to read more (since I have more I'd like to write). Reviews are lovely and a beautiful thing for me to read. I appreciate every one of them, so...Please? Until next time though Bye!
~Konaxookami