Glass Case

When Elizabeta finds Roderich, several rooms on in the Hofburg treasury, he's explaining to a young boy about the history of an ancient sword. She leans against the wall, sliding down to sit on the bench and watch him.

He'd be a great father, she thinks. He's grown so much; they both have, over the centuries. Seeing the old jewels, maps that outline what once was the Holy Roman Empire, Hungary colored in with Austria- it all brings back flashes from days gone by. The crowns, the jewels, they were all signs of the proud Austria that once was. And now the nation incarnate is bending down to explain it all to the little child.

When he turns his head, Elizabeta can see he's smiling. It's wide and honest and so real, so raw. Her heart skips a beat taking in the sight. Yes, Roderich would be a fantastic father the Hungarian nation thinks, the boy running off to his awaiting mother, already reciting what he had just been told. Standing the Austrian sighs, relaxed, before turning to find his lover.

"Hello," Elizabeta whispers playfully as he comes to sit beside her.

"Sorry," he apologizes weakly, not meeting her gaze. They've spent a couple months apart and it's a testament to how much he'd missed her that Roderich is wearing the jeans and sweatshirt Elizabeta had bought him in a vain attempt to update his look. It's almost unbearable to see him dressed for the twenty-first century. "I became carried away, I suppose."

Elizabeta slips one of her hands into his. "It's ok. I thought it was sweet." She gives his hand a squeeze.

The Austrian chuckles inwardly. "Boys and our toys," he comments.

"Boys and your toys," the Hungarian agrees. "Do you remember that sword?"

"Hmm?" His head comes up, Roderich finally meeting her gaze. In the low light his eyes are almost deep blue-gray, shining behind his metallic glasses. "Oh yes," he smirks and it makes Elizabeta melt. "It was mine."

That's the thing about visiting museums and historical sights: so often the items presented were in some way involved with one of the living nations. Looking at the ancient blade Elizabeta can almost see it in Roderich's hand on the battlefield instead of peacefully sleeping behind glass in its case, but she can't place the battle until her lover whispers in her own tongue,

"I used it against you."

That was it. In the end Elizabeta had thrown Roderich to the ground, but the Austrian had gotten in one chest wound before that day's end. She still has the scar, the one her boyfriend seems to kiss each time they make love. So that was the sword.

"Do you want to go look at the jewelry I bought you again?" he offers in an attempt to turn the mood around.

Elizabeta snorts. "The ones we lost after the war and now I can't wear anymore?" It's a bit less romantic when Roderich's gifts are on display with a placard describing them. "No, let's finish up here so I can go spend your money in the gift shop."

"Excuse me?" Roderich's voice calls as she leads the way out, laughing at his indignation. "Why my money?"

"Euros!" the Hungarian calls back cheerfully, listening for the sigh of resignation before her lover follows.

Roderich would be a good father, she thinks; he's already a good husband, lover, and best friend, even if their relationship is on display behind glass cases.