Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: Prussia (Gilbert Beilschmidt), America (Alfred F. Jones)
Words: 1,058
Summary: Prussia attempts to train America's (completely amateur and annoyingly reluctant) Continental Army tactics valuable in war.
The bitter, harsh wind was savage against the soldiers' skin; whether it was only their neck (a rare occurrence) or their stark-naked bodies (which was most of the camp). The small pox crisis had past, the leader of the army, General George Washington, providing advice and a helping hand on how to get rid of the infestation easily, being a former host to the virus. But now, soldiers were complaining loudly, stealing whatever food they could get their grimy hands on, and spitting back harsh insults to their military leader.
The young country, America, watched as this all unfolded in front of him, wondering why Washington hadn't done anything drastic about this bothering situation.
"America," Washington called, gesturing for the young man to come over. Two foreign men were situated next to the ivory-haired man, each having their own head of fair hair, but one had scarlet eyes while the other had cerulean. They were dressed in a different fashion, America being amazed to see clothes in a cloth-less community.
"I'd like you to meet Baren von Steuben," the general of the Continental Army introduced the country to, gesturing to the blue-eyed man. "He and Mr. Beilschmidt—"
"Prussia," the albino emphasized in a heavy accent, glancing towards Washington from the side. The slightest of a sneer decorated his lips, and the interruption caused America to pity the country; how would Washington react?
In response, the general sighed. No lecture on soldier etiquette, no glare or lecture, nothing. America narrowed his eyes slightly on his leader, finally noticing the slight tightening of his jaw as Washington continued: "Yes, the personification of Prussia, and von Steuben will be training with our army to help them be better than," he glanced from the higher ground the four were on, Washington's tent being located there, down towards the army they were conversing about. A small fight had broken out over a small, rotten piece of bread that was left from their latest supply of energy. A few older, more mature soldiers broke it up between them, yelling at how cowardly fighting was.
"Your soldiers don't even compare to the Awesome Me," Prussia bragged, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he scanned the Continental Army. "Bunch of losers."
Irritation burned America's skin at the superfluous comment. "Yeah, we may be losers, but at least we're fighting for a good cause!" he spat acidly, ready to get in the albino's face, being stopped only by the back of Washington's hand.
A smirk crossed the other's face. "Good. You won't go down without a fight. That's the key to a successful army." The scarlet-eyed man chuckled, advancing towards said army, pausing only to pat America's shoulder a few times. "I really do hope you win this war."
"Mein Gott!" an accented voice shouted throughout Valley Forge. "Amerika! Komm sie her!"
Crouched down with a pile of snow in his hands, water clinging to the slight stubble that was growing on the country's cheek, America glanced up towards the albino that had a red-hot fury painted into his irises.
"Steuern Sie Ihre Armee!" the foreign nation spat in his face, stabbing a digit towards the men that were pulling at whatever cloth they could find, and another few yelling at each other before a punch was thrown.
Biting back the response that Prussia was supposed to be training them, not America, the young nation walked past the Prussian and towards the men that were fighting over clothes, yanking them away by their ears with no restraint, causing slurs all across the spectrum to fly out of their mouths.
"Shut it, bastards!" America barked, glancing between the men. When the one on the left began to talk back, the blue-eyed nation yanked at his ear upwards, tightening his grip until the latter began to whimper. "Do you wanna win this damn war or not?"
The two were quiet in response.
America sighed, restraining himself from beating these two into oblivion. "You better shape up or get spoon-fed to those redcoats, you hear me?" Two quick, desperate nods. America released the two and turned towards the rest of his men who had silenced themselves from the outburst of their country.
"That goes for all of you!" he shouted. "If any one of you want to keep being immature little brats that care less than serving in this war, you can pack your shit up and leave." A silence that was deafening was passed between country and men. "Do I make myself clear?" Still silence. "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
A panicked "Yes, sir!" was heard throughout the camp.
"Now, I want you to listen to what Prussia and von Steuben have to say. They're gonna shape you up to be the best and to win this war. If I see any restraint from their training, you'll have to answer to me or Washington. Do I make myself clear?"
"YES, SIR!"
Standing where the two nations first met each other over two centuries ago, America handed Prussia a bottle of beer with a nod.
"Danke."
"For what?" the albino replied. "Other than gracing you with my wunderbar presence, of course."
"Even if you were a total dick back then, thanks for helping me train my guys. We probably wouldn't have won if it wasn't for you." He took a bottle for himself and took a swig.
"Ja, ja, whatever," Prussia replied, dismissing the praise for a change. "That limey bastardneeded his ass whooped anyways." Taking a drink from the offered drink, he glanced back at the American. "Why all the mushy-gushy stuff suddenly?"
"I was just thinking, that's all." America shrugged in response. "Like, what if I totally didn't get help from you, France, and Spain? What if I was still under Iggy's control?" He fought back a shudder at the thought. As much as he loved the Englishman's presence, he couldn't stand being under his constricting control for another second.
"See," Prussia began, "thinking causes bad shit to happen. This's why I don't ponder on the past too much. Stay in the present and you'll be just as awesome as me, Amerika." He raised his bottle of beer. "Cheers?"
"Prost," America replied with a grin, tapping the rim of his bottle against the albino's before the two took a drink at the same time.
Translations:
Mein Gott! Amerika! Komm sie her!
My God! America! Come to me!
Steuern Sie Ihre Arme!
Control your army!
Danke.
Thank you.
wunderbar
wonderful
Ja, ja.
Yeah, yeah.
Prost.
Cheers.
Please tell me if I got the German wrong! I did most of them from memory, but my German needs to be brushed up a bit.
I hope you enjoyed the fanfic!
~ R.A.