Warnings: This story will have refrences to physical and emotional abuse in the later chapters.
Hope you enjoy this story! Remember, I don't own Hetalia and I never will.
Her heart beat in her chest like it was trying to break through her ribcage and roll across the floor and out the door. Her father to her left took her arm and started pulling her towards the double doors.
"Elizabeta," he whispered. "Don't look so nervous."
"Father, I don't want to do this." she begged quietly.
"It's not up to you." he said.
"But I don't want to marry this man. I barely even know him." the young Hungarian girl muttered. They were now standing in front of the doors and she could hear soft piano music from the other side. Her heart started to beat double time.
"We're not having this conversation anymore." Her father straightened himself and the doors opened so the two could walk into the chapel.
The church was decorated in white bows and ribbons. Red roses hung from pews and the bridesmaids held white lily bouquets. Elizabeta never noticed all the beauty, however, as her eyes were glued to the man standing in the front of the church.
Purple eyes met her terrified green ones. Roderich didn't greet her with a smile, nod, or any sign of acknowledgement at all. Her father handed her over and the church proceeded with the wedding.
The two young people both said their vows. Elizabeta's voice shook, nervousness clearly showing through. Roderich was emotionless as always.
The wedding passed in a blur for the poor Hungarian girl who had been forced into it against her will. In all honesty, she had wanted to marry a poor merchant from the market place, but her father insisted she marry into her own social class. That's how she ended up with the indifferent Austrian aristocrat.
By that evening, Elizabeta found herself standing in a strange house that she had never seen before. Servants showed themselves to meet their master's new bride. Roderich didn't bother to introduce them. He just pulled the overwhelmed girl upstairs.
"I don't know about you, but I was never interested in this marriage in the first place." Roderich told her, one hand holding tightly to her arm. "My parents threatened to cut me off if I didn't go along with it."
He stopped at the door to what Elizabeta assumed was his bedroom. "I was also." she whispered looking down at the floor.
"Well, we're just going to have to live with each other, I suppose." Roderich sighed before pushing the door open. "Come on."
She nodded and resigned herself to her new life of marriage.