Palladio

Pairings: AmericaXFrance, ArmeniaXFinland, some ARMerica bromance, TurkeyXGreece, and EstoniaXHungary!

Palladio- An Italian High Renaissance architect that is widely considered the most influential individual of his trade. He is named "Palladio" in tribute to the Greek goddess of wisdom, Pallas Athene.

Alexianos wasn't ashamed to admit that he was a perfectionist. As an architect, he had to be. His country was known for the splendor of its gorgeous chapels, after all, and who was he to fail such a prestigious heritage? Every curve sketched had the grace of spilled water, which together created elaborate churches, gardens, clubs, or banquet halls in the first Christian nation. His latest masterpiece was his greatest pride- a chapel in his native Hrazdan. The windows were perfectly centered in rust-colored facades of stone, and beckoned traveler and pilgrim alike into the palace-like buildings with the glimpses of rain-water chandeliers that held saturated rainbows within each droplet. Tapers were the only lights needed in such sanctuaries, ever-burning for the intentions of Armenians and odars that visited for worship or a higher power, or merely admiration of high ceilings.

Still, his tendency to overwork himself until the last nerve that fired along the synapses of his neck had stalled, and the thoughts that usually flooded his mind- thoughts of creation, romance, art!- had grown sluggish left him feeling exhausted at the end of each project. Indeed, he wanted to relax- he wanted to travel far, far away, and be inspired only by God's own architecture of sturdy trees, the Lord's mirror of still lakes, His garden of colorful blooms and fragrant herbs. Indeed, architectural majesty could wait- he had seen the Taj Mahal, the Sphynx, the Stonehenge. He wanted to witness beauty that he needed not analyze.

But where, of all the marvelous earth, could he be tempted most to go?

…

"What'cha lookin' at?" My American roommate asked as he peered at the other and munched on some sort of fried treat.

"I'm looking at a travel website. I want to go on holiday," I peered up from the page, "Any suggestions?"

"Oh! Yeah, you should go to the Caribbean or something! The babes in the G-strings would be all over you!"

I stifled the overwhelming urge to sigh, and blushed for my friend's unrestrained honesty instead. "Um, as…interesting…as that offer sounds, I'm more tempted to go somewhere abundant with nature, not thongs. I like your thinking, though- any other ideas?"

"Hmm…well, maybe we should think more locally. You've already been to Turkey like ten times, which is weird, since you're Armenian…hmm, what about Georgia?"

"I've already gone there, too."

"How about Azer-"

My eyes widened in shock. "Che! Maybe if you want me to get shot."

He laughed. "Okay, okay! What about the good ol' United States, huh? New York, maybe? Or Glendale? All you Armenians love Glendale."

"So, you want me to spend a vacation in a town that is almost exactly like Yerevan?" I smirked.

"Well, you're the one that asked for advice!" He swatted me with a towel in jest.

"This is true. I was thinking somewhere up north. What's the northernmost place you can think of that isn't inhabited by penguins?"

"Hmm…well, Russia is cold as fuck, but if you want something really different, what about Finland?"

"Finland?" I immediately felt a rush of excitement. Finland! It was perfect. Ample trees, beautiful lakes, and an endless blue sky. Maybe I could even head to some of the locales, if only for a day. I'd always wanted to see Mannerheim's cabin…

"Finland sounds amazing, actually."

"Of course it does! I stayed at this great bed-and-breakfast there in eastern Finland a few years ago. It's this cute resort in this gigantic Finnish house, and you get to know some of the guests pretty well. You'd like it. I'd worry about you being a recluse, otherwise."

I laughed. "I worry about that all the time. Thanks, man. Hey, would you want to come with me?"

A huge- almost stupidly so- grin spread across his face. "Really? Ah, man, I would love to! Are you sure?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It'll be fun. I'll make you a deal- if you promise to wake up before ten, I'll be communicative."

"Deal! I'll look up the place right now. You pack your bags so we can leave A.S.A.P!" He seized my laptop and pushed me into my room, instructing me to pack for him as well, as he "trusted [my] judgment."

I lugged our suitcases out of the closet, neatly folding each individual shirt or pair of jeans as I loaded them into the duffels. I also packed plenty of books in mine (I still could have some alone time, couldn't I?), along with a few American board games that Alfred insisted on making me play every once in a while. Why on earth was it called "Apples to Apples," anyway?

Lastly, I brought my journal with me. After all, what if something interesting did happen? Maybe I would meet a Finnish guy. Scratch that- I've worked with Finns, and they were quiet and serious. There wasn't much of a chance that I'd meet a charmer from the fatherland. But maybe I'd meet a Swedish guy, or a Russian that wasn't aware of the prejudices against him and decided to go to Finland, anyhow. I smiled at the thought. A cute blond sounded perfect.

Alfred informed me that he had just called the manager, and by the way our flight was in ten hours, and was it okay that he used my credit card, he'll pay me back, he swears? I simply had to smile at him. This would be the weirdest vacation I'd ever go on.

…

"Alcohol or Sprite?" A woman with bleached-blonde hair and a rather large scowl asked.

I tried my best to be kind. It wouldn't do to start off my vacation in a sour mood. "Do you have club soda?"

"No." The corners of her mouth plunged further downward.

"Do I have any other choices?"

"Coffee. You want coffee?" I could tell I was testing her almost-nonexistent patience. On second thought, maybe some alcohol would do me some good.

"He'll have a Kolmes, and so will I," Alfred answered for the both of us, giving a winning smile to our cranky air-hostess. She almost smiled back. Almost.

"Two Kolmeses, then."

"I feel dirty," I whispered jokingly after the woman left, "I shouldn't be boozing at 15:00."

"Are you kidding?" Alfred chuckled, "This is Finland, man. What should we cheer to?"

"To health?"

He stared at me blankly. "…No. We're cheering to you hopefully finding a guy. And to me finding a hot Finnish chick. Or maybe a guy. Preferably one with naturally blond hair."

I laughed. "Sounds good. Cheers!"

The air hostess strode by and shushed us.

…