Warnings: bad language, torture/abuse (not too explicit) yaoi, boyXboy, references to non-con and abuse,
Pairings: Austria/Russia, Germany/ Italy, Prussia/Hungary,Canada/France, America/England, Japan/?,China/?
Author's note: I AM NOT STOPPING ANY OF MY OTHER STORIES. This was inspired by an awesome cosplay friend of mine. She ships rustria and that had me thinking which led to plot bunnies and this story. Not sure if I will continue. Tell me your opinion.
Also for this story I know it might be confusing with the nations, some calling each other by their names and some calling each other by their nation names. the reason for this is because the nations that are close (ex: Hungary, Prussia and Austria, Germany n Italy, or America and England) will call each other by their human names while nations that are not close or anger with the other for w.e reason (ex: Russia and America, Hungary and Romania, or china and Japan) will call each by their nation names. Also the nations that are younger than, respectful of, scared of (in the Baltic's' case) will refer to the nation they are talking to as Mr. /Ms...
CHAPTER ONE: The Exchange
Long, war harden fingers reached to unshackle the two bruised and battered nations, well one was a nation and the other an ex-nation.
"Y-your letting us go?" A soft voice asked, shock showing clearly on her dirty face.
She looked around, now that their blindfolds were off, she could not believe her eyes. They were outside! Not just outside, but beyond the wall that had cut them off from the others. They were now in West Berlin, in Germany! She looked over at her albino companion and saw that he was as confused and excited as her, maybe even more so.
"Not letting you go, exchanging." A falsely cheerful voice explained.
"Exchanging us for what?" A defiant male voice questioned.
Slowly a cheerful smile, though forced and very creepy looking, found its way onto the chapped lips of the bigger nation.
"Not what little Gilbert, whom." He answered vaguely.
"What are you-" the ex-nation's question was cut off by a voice calling out, "BRUDER!"
Gilbert turned around and could not keep the grin that broke out upon hearing his beloved West, his bruder, calling him from upon his face. Without thinking about the Hungarian or the Russian nations standing next to him, he took off running towards his bruder.
"WEST!" They threw their arms around one another and embraced as though it had been years since they had last seen one another. Though in reality it had only been about nine months. Those nine months had been long and difficult and had left scars on them that were both emotional and physical.
"Ms. Hungary!" A loud voiced yelled in joy as a red headed figure ran past the two brother nations and towards the woman who was walking away from the Russian with a limp.
Elizaveta smiled, though it hurt her bruised face to do so, and allowed herself to be enveloped by a warm hug from the nation whom she had looked after for so long."I missed you, Ms. Hungary." He said, his voice muffled by her dress.
She smiled and wrapped her arms as tight as she could. Oh how she missed this warmth. It was so cold in Russia's house, even in the summer it was cold, cold like the man who lived there.
"Hey where's specs?" Gilbert asked having pulled away from his brother.
Elizaveta looked and saw they were surrounded by the allies and their friends but Roderich was nowhere to be found. Everyone looked around, not realizing that the aristocrat was not among them.
"I do not know, we told him what time to come." Arthur said.
"Qui, but ever since the end of the war he has locked himself in that big house of his." Francis said, waving his hand to dismiss the Austrian's behavior.
"That's not like Roderich." Elizaveta said, worried about her ex-husband. Though she did not have to worry long for soon the Austrian appeared in her sight. "Roderich!" She yelled, running and throwing her arms around the man whom she had once been married to.
Instantly he returned her hug, hiding his face in her long, unkempt hair. He tightened his hold on her, not believing that he was holding her again, she was actually here. His Elizaveta was safe, finally she was safe. He let go of her, though he kept an arm around her waist, and went over to Gilbert and Ludwig.
"Welcome back, Gilbert." He told the Prussian, holding out his hand.
The red eyed man looked at his violet eyed friend/enemy for a minute; he took in the dark bags under his eyes, rumpled clothes that looked as if they had been thrown on in a hurry, his too thin body, sickly pale color of his skin, messy hair which looked as if it had not seen a comb in some months, and in a split decision he pulled the fallen empire into a tight hug. Roderich gasped as he was pulled into the sudden hug, his mind taking a moment to register that he was being hugged by the Prussian. Instead of pulling away he pulled Gilbert closer, not realizing how much he had missed the other until now.
"That's enough of that, da?" Ivan said, pulling the Austrian from the hug.
"What the hell do you think you're doing you damn commie!" Gilbert yelled in outrage, watching as the larger nation wrapped his arms around his fellow Germanic nation.
"Taking what is mine." Ivan answered, placing his chin on Roderich's head and causing the smaller nation to flinch.
"What are you talking about Russia?" England asked, barely keeping his disgust out of his voice as he addressed the man.
"He did not tell you?" The blond man smirked as he looked at his new prisoner….I mean family member, "naughty naughty Austria." he said, adopting the tone one might use when scolding a child.
"Tell us what? What's going on Mr. Austria?" Italy asked, his voice quivering in fear and a lump forming in his throat as he watched as the Austrian refused to meet anyone's gaze.
"It was the only way." He muttered under his breath as he stared down at his feet like a child who had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.
"Only way for what?" Elizaveta asked, her hand lifting as if she wanted to touch him, to reassure him that everything would be alright but for some reason she couldn't. She did not know why; maybe it was the way he was standing or maybe it was the look on his face, the look of a person who had nothing to live for, or it could have been the fact that his eyes had begun to shine with unshed tears. She didn't know and wouldn't understand why until many years later.
"The only way to make sure you were safe. France came to me one night and told me there was a way to help you two. I was so happy that I quickly agreed."
"What did you agree to Österreich?" Germany asked him.
"I agreed to….to…." here he paused as if not sure to continue. How did one tell the people he loved, his family, that he had volunteered to become a prisoner in another nation's communist country, that he had gave over not only his life, but the life of his people to a mad man to save his friends. How could you tell something like that to others and try to get them to see it your way, to see that it was the only way…..the answer was simple, you couldn't.
Now looking up at the nations gathered, all of them staring at him, waiting for him to tell them that it was all a joke and they were all going back home together, well almost all of them were looking at him. France, dear old perverted France, was looking away, unable to meet the eyes of the man he had basically commended to death. Roderich could not and did not blame him, for it was not his idea. The idea had been his boss's, who had no problem giving away the Austrian nation to keep the Soviets happy and to keep another war from breaking out. Originally the plan had been Austria would be given to Russia with nothing in return, it was Francis who had convinced his boss to try and bargain for the two prisoners that Roderich loved. Once swayed by his nation's embodiment, it was easy for him to try and convince Stalin, Russia's leader, to give up hold of Hungary and Prussia (though while he was ok with giving up Hungarian land he refused to give up the land that belonged to the once mighty empire).
This entire agreement was orchestrated without any of the other Allies knowing. All that the others had been told was that Russia was giving up Hungary and Prussia. Though now that everyone knew that France had some part to play in this entire thing, they were shocked and angry (though mostly the Germanic and Hungarian nations were angrier) judging by the looks they were giving the blond.
Roderich sighed, a loud depressing sound, before he continued on, "I agreed to become a nation under Soviet rule." He winced at the gasps and loud cries of outrage, the loudest of which came from Elizaveta and Gilbert. He held up his hand, silencing them for the moment. "It was my decision. Don't be mad at Francis for something his boss decided. I thought it was the only way to make sure you were safe." He smiled at his two friends, a soft sad smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I was right. You are safe. Promise me you'll take care of one another." He grabbed each of their hands and squeezed, "don't cry Elizaveta, I'll be fine. It's my fault this whole mess started and it's about time I take responsibility for my actions. I can't keep letting others fight for me." He told them; putting on a brave face though he did not feel very brave.
He looked up at the tall Russian standing next to him who gestured towards the car. He nodded and began to walk towards the car and away from his loved ones.
"NO!" A loud voice yelled and he heard the sound of feet hitting the pavement before he was knocked into, only barely able to keep his balance. Thin arms wrapped around his waist and a face was buried into his coat, "please don't go Mr. Austria! If you go who will I talk to when Fratello and Ludwig are busy? Who will I eat cake and drink tea with? Who will let me sit with them while they play the piano?" He was babbling at this point, shaking his head fiercely as they tried to get him to let go.
Austria's face scrunched up, looking as if he was in pain. Unsure what to do about the smaller nation clinging to him, he looked up and silently pleaded with the others. Germany moved forward and grabbed Italy, pulling him away. He kicked and screamed, not wishing for the man who had cared for him for so long to be taken away.
"It will be alright, Feli." He said softly, not believing his own words, calling the nation by his nickname.
"Let's go." Russia commanded, grabbing the smaller male and pulling him.
"Hey Specs!" Roderich turned his head, as much as he could with Ivan dragging him, "CATCH!"
He saw an object fly towards him and he reached out to grab it. Looking down at his hand he was surprised to see an iron cross. He looked up at Gilbert and noticed that his collar was empty; he had given his cross to Roderich.
He must have looked confused because Gilbert then said, "keep it. Give it back when you come home." He smiled his crooked little smile, his hands in his pocket nonchalantly.
A smile spread on Roderich's face and he nodded, looking back the entire time Ivan pulled on his arm. Even inside the car he had turned around to look at the shrinking figures in the background. It was only after he could not see them anymore did he turn back in his seat so he was facing forward. He looked at the silent figure besides him before turning his attention to his hands which were in fists on his lap. He uncurled his long fingers and looked at the shiny piece of metal lying in the palm of his hand. He touched it gently, passing his fingers over the unscratched surface. An image of the white haired male appeared in his mind; grinning and laughing at one thing or another, the cross ever present in each memory. He closed his fingers around the cross again and looked forward, feeling a new courage growing in him. He could do this, he could be strong, and he would be strong until the day when he would be able to return home to his family
((sooo did you guys like it? tell me. should i continue? stop?))
