AN: Hey, guys. This is my first ever non-oneshot Hetalia fanfic story. I'm super excited for this because I have SO many awesome ideas for this story. I'm hoping you all will follow me on this amazing adventure and give me lots of feedback and suggestions for my writing. I can't wait to see how it goes. :) So without further ado, here is the first chapter of Treaty of Hearts. Enjoy! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or the Characters involved. V.V Sadly.
The Kingdom of Hungaria was in turmoil. The age-old war against the neighboring kingdom of Romani had drained the nation's treasury dry and reduced its population by nearly two thirds over the past century. The ancient feud had finally reduced the land to a wasteland of destruction and death. The only aspect of their devastating situation that brought the people any solace was that their enemies were suffering just as greatly as they were. Romani, although its finances were in a better place than that of Hungaria, was suffering from a severe population decline. Although both sides were facing the downfall of their nations, neither were willing to surrender to the other, yet neither had yet to gain the upper hand in the war. Facing the threat of the extinction of their people, both kingdoms now must make difficult choices to ensure the survival of their culture, and their victory in the war. And that is where our story begins….
Bright sunlight streamed through the large windows adorning the far wall of the chamber, shining directly on the face of the sleeping woman in the nearby bed. Soon enough, her eyes fluttered open, only to shut again when faced with the aspect of morning. Groaning, the young female turned over gracelessly and ducked her head beneath her pillow, effectively blocking out the sun's rays. Her escape was short-lived, however, as a maid entered the chamber and crossed to the large bed, reaching across the silken sheets and removing her source of protection from her grasp.
At her mistress's whine of protest, the elderly maid shook her head scornfully and drew back the covers. "Now, now, Lady Elizabeta. A proper lady does not lounge about in bed all day like a slovenly heathen. It is time for you to wake up and prepare for the day."
Elizabeta huffed and slowly sat up, stretching her arms and reveling in the satisfying pop that accompanied them.
The maid merely sniffed indignantly and gave Elizabeta another chiding expression. "A proper lady does not perform such distasteful acts, either."
Elizabeta rolled her eyes and eyed her caretaker, flashing her a grin. "Yes, yes. I know. A proper lady never does anything, ever. At all." She said in a teasing voice, earning her yet another chastising look from the elderly servant. "All right, all right. I'm getting up." She surrendered to the older woman's glare, reluctantly emerging from the warmth of her bed and moving behind the dressing screen to be groomed.
Almost immediately, two other maids entered the room and set to work on prepping their mistress for her day. While one set to work on helping Elizabeta into a deep-green, crushed-velvet, long-sleeved gown, the other began to brush through Elizabeta's long brown tresses, taking care to unfurl all of the knots in her hair gently. Finally, the hair was pulled into a delicate updo, the remainder cascading down her back in silken waves.
Elizabeta emerged from behind the screen, and after gaining the approval of her caretaker, the other maids curtsied and excused themselves from the room.
The young woman crossed to the windows of her chambers, her gaze drifting to the distant mountains sprinkling the horizon. "What does my schedule look like for today?" She asked half-heartedly, her voice the epitome of disinterest.
"All of your lessons for today have been canceled, milady." Her caretaker informed, and upon her mistress's questioning gaze, she explained. "Your father has requested your presence, and I have been given the indication that the subject he wishes to discuss with you is of great importance."
Her interest roused, Elizabeta nodded and turned to the older woman. "When is my audience with my father?" She asked.
"I was instructed to escort you to the meeting hall after breakfast." The elderly maid replied.
"I see. I am ready to go to breakfast now, then." Elizabeta announced, eager to have her meal and proceed to the meeting hall. If her father wished to discuss something with her that required the cancellation of her lessons for the entire day, it had to be of vast importance.
Shifting her weight between her feet, Elizabeta waited anxiously outside of the meeting hall. She was dying to go in and find out what her father wished to speak to her about. She knew it had to be something important, and therefore she had a burning desire to know what it was. It wasn't often her father came to her with important matters.
Despite being an only child, Elizabeta grew up feeling inferior in her father's eyes. She knew from her listening to her servants' stories that her father had longed for a son for many years, and upon learning his wife was pregnant had begun to set plans for his "son"'s birth and upbringing. So when Elizabeta had been born, it was no secret her birth had been a disappointment to the Duke. The fact that her mother had died in childbirth gave the Duke yet another reason to dislike his child, despite her attempts to please him. Growing up, Elizabeta had tried to be the son her father wanted, even going so far as to dress in boy's garb and taking sparring lessons- all in an attempt to gain worth in her father's eyes.
However, upon the arrival of her teenage years, her sparring lessons had been discontinued at the head maid's insistence, as well as the prompt removal of her boyish wardrobe. She was no longer allowed to talk however she pleased, nor was she allowed to act any way she wanted. She began rigorous lessons on etiquette and mannerisms, and several tutors were brought in to instruct her in music, dance, needlework, and painting.
Her life became rigid, her days tailored to the mission of sculpting her into the perfect aristocratic lady. Her nights were her only comfort; her dreams her only escape. In her dreams she would imagine herself fighting (and emerging victorious from) a mighty battle, or riding through a forest atop a galloping steed. She would wake in the morning and still feel the weight of a sword at her hip, or the whip of leaves on her bare skin as she blew past them. Then she would come to her senses and realize that she had been dreaming, and she would cry herself back to sleep or until her caretaker came to get her up for the day.
Eventually, the dreams stopped, as did her tears. She learned to simply adapt to her situation, and focus on her lessons. If her father invested so much into tutors and instructors in a desire for her to be a lady, then so be it. Since she couldn't make him proud as a son, she would do so as a daughter.
Her father, in time, had come to accept her as his child, though he always spoke to her in a distant manner. It was almost as if he wished he were speaking to someone else, but did not possess the gall to voice his dislike of her presence. Despite his treatment, Elizabeta remained obedient, respectful, and loyal to her father. And now, it seemed, all of her efforts had paid off. According to her caretaker's report, her father was planning on discussing something extremely important with her. Something that, according to the report, could have a tremendous impact on the war against Romani. Her heart swelled with pride at the thought of having earned enough of her father's respect to be trusted with such information.
Breaking from her thoughts, Elizabeta looked up to see her caretaker emerging from the meeting hall. While her face betrayed no knowledge she may have possessed as to what information Elizabeta would be receiving, the old woman's eyes shone with a weird glint Elizabeta could only describe as… remorse? Fear? She didn't have time to question it, though, for the woman gestured for her to enter the meeting hall. Taking a deep breath and holding her head high, Elizabeta nodded once and strode through the heavy-set oak doors, letting them close behind her as she walked, unknowingly, towards her fate.
AN: GAHHHHH! What do you all think? OwO I really want to know if I'm doing okay so far. I know it's only the first chapter and almost nothing has happened yet, but hey, if you have some feedback, I'd be more than happy to hear it. In fact, I'd love you forever if you gave me feedback. Like, forever. O_O And ever, and ever, and ever... ANYWAYS, review if you can. 3 I'll try to write and post the next chapter soon. Until then~!