Title: Elizaveta of the Island

Author: me

Characters: Hungary as Anne, Prussia as Gilbert (lol), Austria as Roy

A/N: Very very unoriginal parody of L. M. Montgomery's Anne of the Island, the third book in her Anne of the Island series. Posted as a kink meme fill.

Disclaimer: HETALIA AXIS POWERS BELONGS TO HIMARUYA HIDEKAZ, NOT ME. If it was mine, Gilbert and Elizaveta would have ended up together (maybe?)

ANNE OF THE ISLANDS BELONGS TO LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY, NOT ME. If it was mine, Roy would have been less insensitive (imvho)


Elizaveta of the Island

Gilbert Speaks

Elizaveta was sitting on the big gray boulder in the orchard looking at the poem of a bare, birchen bough hanging against the pale red sunset with the very perfection of grace. She was building a castle in air - a wondrous mansion whose sunlit courts and stately halls were steeped in Araby's perfume, and where she reigned queen and chatelaine. She frowned as she saw Gilbert coming through the orchard. Of late she had managed not to be left alone with Gilbert. But he had caught her fairly now.

Gilbert sat down beside her on the boulder and held out his Mayflowers.

"Don't these remind you of home and our old schoolday picnics, Elizaveta?"

Elizavteta took them and buried her face in them.

"Isn't this a delightful evening?" said Elizaveta, without any very clear idea of what she was saying. She wished desperately that someone, anyone would come by. "Do you know, I found a cluster of white violets under that old twisted tree over there today? I felt as if I had discovered a gold mine."

"You are always discovering gold mines," said Gilbert - also absently.

"Let us go and see if we can find some more," suggested Elizaveta eagerly. "I'll call Feliks and - "

"Never mind Feliks and the violets just now, Liz," said Gilbert quietly, taking her hand in a clasp from which she could not free it. "There is something I want to say to you."

"Oh, don't say it," cried Elizaveta, pleadingly. "Don't - PLEASE, Gilbert."

"I must. Things can't go on like this any longer. Elizaveta, I love you. You know I do. I - I can't tell you how much. Will you promise me that some day you'll be my wife?"

"I - I can't," said Elizaveta miserably. "Oh, Gilbert - you - you've spoiled everything."

"Don't you care for me at all?" Gilbert asked after a very dreadful pause, during which Elizaveta had not dared to look up.

"Not - not in that way. I do care a great deal for you as a friend. But I don't love you, Gilbert."

"But can't you give me some hope that you will - yet?"

"No, I can't," exclaimed Elizaveta desperately. "I never, never can love you - in that way - Gilbert. You must never speak of this to me again."

There was another pause - so long and so dreadful that Elizaveta was driven at last to look up. Gilbert's face was white to the lips. And his eyes - but Elizaveta shuddered and looked away. There was nothing romantic about this. Must proposals be either grotesque or - horrible? Could she ever forget Gilbert's face?

"Is there anybody else?" he asked at last in a low voice.

"No - no," said Elizaveta eagerly. "I don't care for any one like THAT - and I LIKE you better than anybody else in the world, Gilbert. And we must - we must go on being friends, Gilbert."

Gilbert gave a bitter little laugh.

"Friends! Your friendship can't satisfy me, Liz. I want your love - and you tell me I can never have that."

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, Gilbert," was all Elizaveta could say. Where, oh, where were all the gracious and graceful speeches wherewith, in imagination, she had been wont to dismiss rejected suitors?

Gilbert released her hand gently.

"There isn't anything to forgive. There have been times when I thought you did care. I've deceived myself, that's all. Goodbye, Elizaveta."

Elizaveta got herself to her room, sat down on her window seat behind the pines, and cried bitterly. She felt as if something incalculably precious had gone out of her life. It was Gilbert's friendship, of course. Oh, why must she lose it after this fashion? Well, it was all Gilbert's fault. He had spoiled their beautiful comradeship. She must just learn to live without it.