Old Fritz would HATE him for this. That thought was ever-present, and it gnawed relentlessly at his mind. He was never supposed to get into a relationship of dependency, of inseparable alliance, or even worse of marriage. He was supposed to be strong by himself and for himself.
But, then, Prussia was sure that losing all of his land to Poland, and then every sort of influence he'd ever had, would have been more than enough to make his king turn his back on his country.
It made him sick, and not just in a figurative sense. He'd probably thrown up 3 or 4 times that evening, and he didn't even want to try to count how many times over the week.
Isolation wasn't fun, if he allowed himself to move past dissonance and be honest with himself. But it was who he was supposed to be, damn it. Even if things had worked out in a manner he wouldn't have even thought to have nightmares about, he was still alive.
He was alive because of who he was and who Old Fritz had told him to be.
He'd turned his back on that for a child that smelled like syrup and was almost impossible to hear unless he was screaming. For someone who relished in negotiation and liked to keep any ferocity within him locked away.
And, as disgusting as it was, Prussia found himself catching it. Like he was some sort of animal being tamed. The slightest sound, the slightest word, and he backed down from fights that every fiber of his being told him were fully justified.
It wasn't right.
His stomach turned again, but with nothing left inside it all there was to rise within him was rage. He wanted to take the lamp on the nightstand and smash the sleeping face in. Seize his vital regions, and then take every bit of land for his own. Let the boy live and suffer through the dismemberment, so he damn well knew exactly why he should never have disrespected a Prussian so thoroughly.
Prussia's lip twitched, as he sat up and looked down at the form. He grabbed for the closest makeshift weapon, and...
The boy smiled in his sleep. A quiet, private one that Prussia knew nobody besides himself had ever seen because nobody else bothered to look.
And, somehow, he relaxed. He fought the sensation, but he had melted into a state of overwhelming calm.
Without a bit of tension, he most certainly wouldn't be on his best guard to defend against an attack. He'd be more vulnerable than ever until he could turn that around. Old Fritz encouraged him to be strong and take challenges, but to be stupid wouldn't be smiled upon either.
He settled back down; pulled the boy close and buried his nose in the maple-scented hair.
Just staying the night, just one more night, wouldn't make this any worse.
