X over Y
Chapter 2
Lunch was tense.
No, Friedrich corrected. That wasn't right at all. It would be much more accurate to say 'of course lunch was tense', because it was impossible for anything involving Prussia to be executed smoothly and without incident. She simply was not that kind of person. Kingdom. Whatever.
But, she did try her hardest. He gave her as much credit as he could for that.
After the formalities of their unpleasant introduction, Maria Theresa invited the pair of dignitaries into the parlor, where the two regents shared a moment of awkward silence while their respective charges glared daggers at each other. Sometime a few minutes later, Maria Theresa invited to two in for a bit of lunch, considering they must not have had much to eat on their long trip all the way from Konigsberg. Friedrich didn't bother to tell her that they had in fact eaten quite a bit.
Certainly more than she surmised, thanks to Prussia's sticky fingers.
That did not necessarily mean that a free meal would be unwelcome. And hopefully it would provide some insight to the reason behind the Prussia and Austria's open hostility towards each other.
The manor house was even larger on the inside than it was on the outside. High ceilings, brightly-lit corridors and sparse decorating made Friedrich feel much smaller than he was. There were paintings on the walls by what seemed like every famous painter who ever lived, sculptures on pedestals by every famous sculptor. He was awed to say the least; his own palace was darned with banners and flags, not such eloquent masterpieces. A quick glance over at Prussia revealed she did not share his sediments. If the way she held her lip was any indication, she was disgusted by the display. She boded her time by alternately staring as if offended at ever passing masterpiece and at the back of Austria's head. His head seemed to make her angrier than the art.
The repetitive clack clack clack of Prussia's sheath against the floor was the only reprieve from the silence until the quartet reached what was less of a dining room and more of an echo chamber. The only decisive indication that this was in fact a dining room was the rectangular table and set of four chairs situated in the middle.
For the first time, the king noticed that Austria too was carrying a rapier at his hip but only because the man removed it when he sat down. He placed on the floor next to him before seating himself with a flourish. Prussia also removed her rapier, but she placed it on her lap rather than the floor. Her iron gaze met Austria's again, and she ran her tongue over her lower lip. He nodded once as if receiving some unspoken message.
The way the four of them were seated made it so there was no buffer room between the two immortals. Maria Theresa and Fritz sat facing each other as did the other two. The thought rolled through his mind to switch seats with Prussia, but the king would have rather not made a scene.
Not make a scene. The idea was almost laughable.
Surprisingly enough, Prussia was the one to break the awkward silence that again permeated the atmosphere. "So," she said, looking around the room before letting her gaze fall back on the empire in front of her. "Where's my little brother?"
Austria choked on his saliva and cleared his throat. "He…he left some time ago."
Prussia smirked. "You just let him leave? Really Roderich, I never saw you as the kind to let such an important piece walk out on you."
"I would not have!" He defended indignantly before shrinking back somewhat, turning up his nose. "He ran away." His cheeks reddened with a light blush that he tried to ignore.
"Really now, he ran away?" The question was rhetorical, obviously, but Prussia leaned in as though she expected a response. "Pity. For you I mean." She leaned back, folding her arms over her chest triumphantly.
Maria Theresa's brows were drawn together in confusion and she looked to Friedrich for clarification. He shrugged and offered a polite half-smile. He was completely unaware that Prussia had a brother, much less a brother under Hapsburg jurisdiction. Formerly under Hapsburg jurisdiction, if Austria's statement had any truth to it. Whatever Prussia was doing, the king hoped to dear God in heaven that it turned out all right.
"And Feliciano?" She continued, now pretending to examine the underside of her fingernails.
"He is still under my control," the Austrian assured.
"Then where is he?" His blush deepened.
"He… has been spending time with Francis as of late. Something about wanting to see his brother."
Maria Theresa discreetly mouthed what the king assumed to be 'Who's Feliciano?' over the table, and Friedrich shrugged again. Obviously it was one of the other immortals, but he had never heard any of the names of the others save for Maria and now Roderich. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hadn't even considered that the others even had normal names; Austria was the first whom Prussia had even referred to as such spoken in his presence; the only other immortals that he had met directly were Russia and England, and both were when he had been much younger.
She sighed and smiled. "Pity," she said again. "Though I am surprised you managed to figure out that his name ends in 'O' for a reason."
Perhaps saying that she tried her hardest to avoid confrontation was a bit of an exaggeration, Friedrich would later amend. She may have been baiting him.
To this, the Austrian had no response. He merely cleared his throat and blushed a deeper shade of red. Prussia laughed and twirled one of her forks in her fingers.
Friedrich recognized that he could not allow this to go on. Surely whatever was going to happen next would prove to be disastrous to the whole purpose of their meeting. He struggled desperately to find some – any – other topic to talk about with the duchess and force the nations to spectate rather than allow them to continue to talk. He didn't have to. Within moments, the food was brought out and placed on the table.
The king had to admit, it did look quite delicious. He helped himself to a small bit of everything as did Austria and Maria Theresa, while Prussia saw it fit to pile as much as she could onto her plate. The didn't particularly phase him, as he was used to her eating as such at home, but it seemed to unnerve the other two. Prussia paid them no mind and was soon reaching for seconds.
A fork pinned her sleeve to the table and there was a slight ripping sound.
Austria's eyes widened, unsurprised, and he looked between his fork jabbed into the table and Prussia's face. Her lip was twitching, which Fritz knew meant she was irritated. As much as she detested the dress, she detested insolence with even greater vehemence. The aristocrat pulled his fork out of her clothes and wiped it on his napkin. "I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, not sounding all that sorry. "My hand slipped."
Prussia retracted her hand, grabbing her wrist and pulling at the material. It had ripped and there was now a fairly large tare where the fork had been. Fritz took her wrist from her and examined it gingerly, more for show than anything else. When he kissed the top of her hand he made eye contact with the Austrian, hoping that he conveyed a clear message of 'If you mess with my Maria, you are messing with me.'
"Its fine," Prussia grumbled, pulling her hand away as he had expected her to. A light blush dusted her cheeks and she turned back to Austria, "Don't let that happen again, Roderich, unless you want someone to stick a fork up your ass along with that pointy baton(1) of yours."
His eye twitched. "I will, so long as you watch how you stuff food into that mouth of yours. Unless, of course, you want someone to suture it shut."
"Is that a threat?"
"It might be."
A smirk worked its way onto Prussia's face. She grabbed a leg of…something, with her bare hand, and brought it up to her mouth. She ripped a huge chunk of meat from it with her teeth and a twist of the neck, and pulled it into her mouth with her tongue. She chewed with her mouth open and made obnoxious smacking noises.
If he were not in the presence of two dignitaries which he had approached with the intent to impress – though he was fairly certain at this point that the effort was in vain – Fritz would have let his forehead smack into the table. It certainly was one of those moments.
After she finished, she turned her chair with an audible screech that sent shivers down Friedrich's spine. She was angled towards Maria Theresa now, and she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her dress before addressing the duchess.
"So, Maria Theresa," She began wistfully, twirling a lock of hair in her fingertips. "I have heard a lot about you. You're smart, you're dedicated, you're a conniving wench-" Friedrich flinched and noticed that Austria did as well. There was another fire behind his eyes now, one that was protective and fierce, much like the fire he had seen in Prussia's during times of war. "-who likes to stir the pot. But what have you heard about me? I know Austria isn't too fond of me and I wonder what kind of stories he tells you." The smirk on her lips was downright terrifying. She removed her bicorn, hung it off the side of Friedrich's chair, and leaned back so her own was balancing on two legs.
The duchess pursed her lips, acting as though the question bothered her more than the insult. Friedrich assumed she was used to such slander; he himself had undergone similar defamation after he was dragged back from his desperate flight to England as a teen. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Austria, who seemed more than a little aggravated.
"I don't believe that that is an appropriate question, Preuβen. The information that passes between me and the duchess is just that, and not made for foreign ears." Though the words were cordial enough, the way he spat them fully conveyed exactly how disgusted he was.
"No, no, it's fine," Maria Theresa interrupted, cutting off what was likely going to be an appropriate and polite retort from Prussia. The duchess looked the kingdom in the eyes and moistened her lips. "I understand the curiosity. I too wonder what my most faithful enemy thinks of me." Her gaze darted over the Friedrich and he blushed. She considered him her most faithful enemy? Why, they hardly even know each other yet! He didn't know if he should be honored or insulted.
"So you'll tell me what prissy-pants says about me?" Prussia said doubtfully. Maria Theresa nodded. "Well, come on, out with it then!"
Austria, a look of confusion on his features, nudged the duchess, who merely brushed him off. "Austria says many things about you, most often about how much he hates you." Prussia laughed. "He calls you a mongrel, a deviant, a bitch, and a heathen. He says you're heartless, relentless, annoying, uncouth, and wholly intolerable on top of being an evil temptress who uses her body to get others to give her what she wants. There is, of course, a lot more, but I could go on and on." Prussia laughed again, turning her chair back to face Austria.
"You really need to get a bit more creative, Roddykinns, I at least go for things that you haven't been called by your own father." This, Friedrich knew, was a ploy. Prussia often spoke of how she had once had an almost amiable relationship with her father for the few years she knew him and that though he had considered her a pest…and annoying…and she did convert to Christianity so maybe he might have called her a heathen…but he certainly never called her an evil temptress! It was still an obvious ploy, all things considered, and Roderich took the bait.
"Really?" he fumed, turning in his seat to face the king. "Well, Your Highness? What exactly does Mitzi call me when I'm not around?"
Prussia's hands balled into tight fists. "Don't call me that."
"I'll call you what I will," he said, not turning to look at her.
Fritz licked his lips, looking to Prussia for permission. She nodded once sharply. He could tell she was biting the inside of her cheek. "She calls you a sexually frustrated and uptight slave-driver who would rather take a kick to the groin than get dirt under his nails, primary because there is not too much to damage down there," Roderich's eyes widened but Friedrich was hardly done. "She also says that you spend more time in the music room than leading armies – a cowardly hobby – and that the only things you've ever had intercourse with are your hands and a hole in your piano bench."
In a fraction of a second, Roderich's face had gone from pale white to beet red. "Mitzi," he ground out, teeth clenched. He ignored her repeated 'Don't call me that'. "I do believe that those are very inappropriate things to call gentleman."
Prussia laughed and picked between her front teeth with her pinky nail. "Yeah, they are. I guess it's good that the only gentleman here is the unshakeable Fritz, huh? Because all I see are a wench and her consort. No offence to you, Mrs. Hapsburg, I respect you."
"What a coincidence," Roderich said, his voice level but with significant malice to convey his blind rage. "Because all I see are an extortionist and his cunt."
For as long as Friedrich had known her, Prussia had been able to withstand a truly extraordinary amount of slander. However, she had never responded well to that particular word. 'It implies I only exist to be a sex toy for a man,' she had explained when he questioned her. 'And you know from experience, I am no sex toy.' His head snapped to look at his kingdom. Her lips pulled back over her teeth in a dangerous show of hostility, her hands shaking a little as she began to loose control of herself. Just as he moved to place a hand under her chin and force her to look at him, effectively diverting her gaze from the object of her fury, it was over. She was breathing normally and calmly and she was no longer shaking. The change in her demeanor was punctuated by the mute 'thunk' of something imbedding itself into something else.
Again the pallor had drained from Austria's face, his eyes glazed over and frozen straight ahead. Implanted firmly in the wall behind his head was a large meat knife. From what Friedrich could see, it passed not a millimeter to the right of his head. Friedrich had not seen Prussia's arm move.
Prussia looked down to her plate and straightened her back, picking up her fork and beginning to eat at a much slower pace than she had been earlier. "A cunt he calls me," she mumbled under her breath, and Friedrich knew that she was speaking only for his ears. The second part of her statement was even quieter and Friedrich was not sure if he was meant to hear that one at all. "He's lucky he's got such a pretty face."
She ate in silence for a minute before pretending to finally notice the shocked stares the others were giving her. She looked up and blinked innocently with her big eyes. "Oh, I do apologize, Mr. Edelstein sir." She was sarcastic in that her tone wasn't at all sarcastic. She sounded as she might have had she been born and raised a polite and proper human girl of the time. "I believe my hand may have slipped."
Maria Theresa put a concerned hand on Roderich's shoulder and shot Prussia a glare Fritz recognized. It was fiery and it said 'If you mess with my Roderich, you are indeed messing with me.'
Prussia saw this glare as well and she smiled softly. He was sure Maria Theresa did not know, but that smile meant that Prussia was sorry that perceived innocents had to involve themselves in her personal quarrels.
"Come now, Mr. Edelstein, Ms. Hapsburg,(2)" she threw a heavy, misplaced, inappropriate backthroat into the 'ah' in Hapsburg, the innocence now gone from her voice. "Eat. The food is quite splendid."
And they did. The knife imbedded somewhere behind Austria's head was not removed and the dance with death had the Austrian calmed down. Prussia was calm as well, having vented all of her anger and stress through that one precise throw. The only conversation was between Friedrich and Maria Theresa and only on trivial and polite topics such as the weather and each other's clothing.
No, Fritz reflected. Prussia had not tried at all to maintain civility. Or perhaps she had, he could not tell, considering he had no other interactions with the blatantly pompous, insolent man before him to base the incident off of.
~Hetalia!~
By the time their meal was completed, a mere twenty minutes later, Prussia was beginning to fidget in her seat. Once or twice she moved as though about to stick her hand down the top of her dress but quickly thought better of it, apparently having enough shame to neglect from adjusting herself in front of another man (or perhaps it was the duchess that caused her sudden humility). Friedrich silently thanked God that there was no food left – he was afraid his kingdom would bust out of her corset if she ate any more. Maria Theresa was the one to first push back her chair, followed silently by Austria, who quickly retrieved his rapier and fastened it to his belt. He pulled the knife out of the wall behind him and with the flick of his wrist stuck it deeply into the hard wood table. Fritz stood next, holding out his hand for Prussia to take. She did not; rather, she stood on her own and wound her arm with his. She hooked her fingers around her bicorn and flipped it on to her head, it tilting forward because of her high ponytail.
"I believe it is time we drop all pretenses and get down to work," Maria Theresa said sternly, lips pressing together into a line at the end of her sentence. "I know that you've come for a reason, Friedrich, and I'd very much like to discuss it."
"Very well," the king said, "I suppose we should, shouldn't we? Prussia if you-"
The duchess cut him off. "I think it would be best if we leave our…countries to their own devices while we discuss terms." The king's brows furrowed and both of the immortals opened their mouths as though they were about to speak but decided better of it. The duchess further explained. "I believe it's been established that civility and impartiality would be a difficult feat if they were involved. Don't you agree, Austria?" The male immortal looked nervously between the two women before nodding.
"She has a point." He said finally, addressing Friedrich. "I don't believe that we'd be able to keep from strangling each other, and I can't be held accountable for my actions if Maria and I are held in the same room for too long."
Prussia sighed. "I guess you do have a point, Ms. Hapsburg." She made sure not to address Austria nor give him any credit. "I do have a perchance for disemboweling and as much as I would like to see dear Roddykins' innards strewn about here and there, I don't think you'd be as elated as I would be."
"You think correctly." He flippantly added; "For once."
Friedrich looked at Prussia, then at Austria, and then at Maria Theresa before building up enough strength to stick out his arm expectantly. "Your, rapier please, Prussia." He said sternly, pretending to be stricter than he was. Prussia looked at him with a kind of amused disbelief.
"You're joking, right?" When he remained unflinching she threw her arms into the air and growled. "You've got to be joking! No way am I being left alone in a house with this jackass –"
"Now wait a minute, if you think for one moment that I would try to take advantage of you of all people-"
"Shut up, Prissypants!"
Friedrich took a deep breath. He knew that Prussia would be the one to start a physical confrontation and her rapier was her primary and most effective means of offence. He didn't doubt that she had a throwing knife or combat dagger tucked away in her dress somewhere but at least she would be wearier if she knew she would be at a disadvantage in a physical fight. Having her leave her rapier with him could mean the difference between war and peace. "Do you want to go home, then?" He asked calmly.
"Yes!" Her arms were crossed over her chest, her chin turned away indignantly.
"Do you like…" He grabbed her arm and pulled her ear up to his mouth. "Do you enjoy intercourse? Because it really does take up a lot of time, time that I could just as easily spend on work." He hissed. Prussia's eyes widened then narrowed.
She pulled away and began unclipping her scabbard from her waist. "You're low. That's just low." She slapped it into his hand and turned away from him angrily, the frills of her dress batting against his legs.
"Thank you, my dear," He said, tucking the weapon under his arm. He looked expectantly at Maria Theresa, hoping she would follow the example he had set.
After a moment or two, she did. "Austria, you too." The aristocrat pouted in a very dignified manner and removed his own rapier, handing it over to his duchess with just a tad of hesitancy.
"What will you have us do in your absence, My Lady?" The Empire asked his duchess condescendingly. "Would you have us eat tea and crumpets and chat politely about the weather? Because I do not believe I could stand to do such a thing."
"Just…go outside, take a walk. I'm certain the fresh air will clear your heads." Austria's mouth gaped and he shook his head incredulously but did not refute. His duchess held the highest position in his mind, it seemed, and he would not disobey her in much the same way that Prussia could not deny Fritz. The King wondered if the nature of Austria and Maria Theresa's relationship held to the same standards as his and Prussia's did.
Prussia scoffed, not turning around. "Oh yeah, fresh air will definitely clear his head, because it's not always full of sawdust and those worthless black dots." Her statement went ignored as Friedrich offered his arm to the Duchess. She did not take it, rather she fell into place in front of him, beckoning in with her finger. He followed gladly.
"You know," he said to her when they were out of earshot of their immortal companions, "We essentially just exchanged the ability for us to keep an eye on those two with the opportunity for one of them to kill the other."
She nodded. "I suppose we did, but I…I do think they should learn to get along. If you are here to discuss what I believe you are, they will have to." She sped up slightly and a knot began to form in Friedrich's stomach.
~Hetalia!~
Roderich sighed. The absolute last thing he wanted to do was spend time with this…this mongrel. Of all the people in the world…he prayed that whatever negotiations his Duchess and that filth were having ended quickly.
Maria's navy bicorn clashed painfully with the violet of her dress and he was tempted to swipe it from her, but he felt naked without his rapier and was not too proficient at fisticuffs. He had been beaten up by the female in the past and even bound and gagged in feminine garb as she was, he did not doubt that she would kindly hand him his own behind on a platter should they altercate. Swords matched them evenly but fisticuffs were about the only thing he was willing to admit her proficiency exceeded his own.
And, apparently, knife-throwing, as there was absolutely no way a knife misses so closely, leading him to believe that she had not been aiming for the kill. She loved to play with his fear as he loved to play with the sensitive topics of her gender and sexual promiscuity.
The way they bantered and threw arguments led him to believe that perhaps, had they been born humans and less than a century apart, they may have been friendly rivals rather than bloody foes. The thought made him cringe. In this life, he would never be able to see her as anything more than an obstacle and an impurity on the face of the earth best eradicated.
…She did have a rather nice figure though, he though as he watched her sway impatiently, blocking out the knowledge that this was Maria and not anything near a proper lady. He wouldn't call her dainty by any means, but she was close, especially in that…was that a corset? Oh my, she certainly –
He scoffed at himself, patting down the sides of his jacket. It was not the first time he had though such impurities, but nearly every immortal had, he knew. Half of his kind lusted for Maria, the other half for Natalia of Belarus, Ivan of Russia's younger sister, who was twice as beautiful (and twice as unpredictably insane) as Maria. There were others, of course, but they were hardly seen and hardly spoken of. Personally, Roderich more often imagined himself with the cute girl who worked down at the tailor shop than any of the female immortals; he preferred the soft, delicate type to the roughness and callous eternal existence calls for.
"Well?" Roderich flinched, startled. He hadn't noticed that she had turned around. "Are we going outside or are you going to continue to stare at my fine ass for the rest of the day, because if you want to you can kiss it. I wouldn't mind at all, believe me."
"I wasn't staring at your…behind." He defended himself lamely, grimacing. She stood with her hands on her hips, most of her weight on her left foot. The corner of her lip twitched involuntarily and her foot tapped impatiently against the ground. "Rather, I was considering the awful perversion of nature you are and wondering how exactly someone managed to fit an ape into such a lovely dress."
Maria's smile was bitter and she shook her head, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. "Ah, the compliment that twists like a knife in the intestines. How characteristic, Roderich. And here I'd though you'd gone stale over the years."
"I see you can't think of a proper comeback. If you prefer, I could think of one for you and save you the effort it would take to do so. I'm sure you could fell a forest with that much energy."
"It takes me about the same amount of energy to fell a forest as it takes for you to brush your hair in the morning. Though, that may not be the best analogy, considering all the time you spend primping. Expecting a bride to fall from the sky and hit you on the head? Because even a bride from heaven would turn up her nose at such an effeminate boy." Her hand fell to her hip and shrunk back at the distinct lack of scabbard. Obviously having no inkling of an idea of what to do with her hands, she grabbed the folds of her skirt and twisted them around. Roderich had pockets but did not take advantage of them, choosing to clasp his hands together in the small of his back. He too was uncomfortable without a scabbard to grip.
He could not deny her statement and he was not one to lie. "At least I brush my hair," he said after a moment. He left himself open for a myriad of painful and creative comebacks but Maria was not of the quickest tongue and could not think of any.
"Are we going outside or not? I've been sitting for the past 48 hours." The way her eyebrows pulled tightly together created a deep, ugly crease on her forehead that made her look older than she was.
The Austrian sighed. "I suppose so. It would be best to get you out of this house and away from precious and breakable objects that your uncouth self would surely destroy."
"You mean my awesome self." Maria automatically corrected, daring him with her eyes to dissent. He sighed and pushed past her, knowing full well it would drive her crazy to have to follow someone else around.
Wordlessly, Maria followed, hands on her hips and head held high. The clacking of her shoes against the floor was unusually loud, as if they were tap shoes rather than heels. Roderich decided to take her out to the back gardens; there was a small flowerbed and a table with chairs as well as a good view of the woods that extended out to a stream somewhere to the east. There was plenty of room for strolling yet they were still within earshot of the mansion should something go…amiss.
And by amiss, he meant terribly, horribly wrong.
The journey back through the halls and the parlor was tense. Roderich could not help the small smile that crested his face as he looked at the marvels of culture with which he adorned his dwelling. The knowledge that Maria was undoubtedly fuming with hatred over the same artifacts only added to his pleasure.
The air outside was crisp and pleasant, the sun shining a mockery of the tension between the pair. The grass was an unpleasantly vibrant green and the walkways too dry a brown. It was as if a child had painted the scenery to his own tastes; happy and easy with little care in the world. "We'll be passing the gate soon," he said nonchalantly and to no on in particular. He wanted Maria to know that her presence was not something he desired moreover required; she was the woman and he the man, as much as she liked to pretend otherwise. The unusual urge to dominate the Prussian was always there in each and every one of his thoughts and actions.
"I assume there'll be guards. Men."
"Yes, guards usually are men. Men guard both the gates of Hell and the gates of Heaven, in case a heretic such as yourself was unaware."
"The only heretic is you, I assure you(3). And I have no issue with men. They usually have an issue with me, but I've learned to play along." She flicked a stray strand of hair over her shoulder and lengthened her steps, determined, apparently, to keep pace with Roderich though his legs were longer. On most occasions she could overtake him in speed, but physically confined as she was it seemed to be more difficult. He smirked.
"How so? Do you offer your services?" Maria's lip twitched and her grip on the sides of her skirt tightened.
"Oh no, they know better than to allow one such as myself into their beds. I would gut them before they had the chance to pull themselves out. I have simply mastered the rouge of the helpless young maiden, that's all." The way she said it was gloating but there was something in her posture that suggested shame. "I get whatever I want."
Roderich scoffed. "Not Holy Rome. He is mine."
Before it had time to register, Maria had a hand on his throat, the soft pressure against his jugular harmless but threatening. A brief flash of fear crossed his features though the aristocrat remained otherwise composed. "You got lucky, you prickish asshole. I'm not into shit like getting married for power, or else Holy Rome would be mine. Never suggest that it's because I'm weak, got it? Never." There was something dangerous behind her irises that Roderich only ever saw in the heat of battle. It almost made him shrink back. She released him and patted down her dress before continuing on as if she knew where she was going.
Quickly, the Austrian regained his place ahead of her and they continued their journey, the atmosphere tenser than it had been. They reached the gate in a matter of minutes and one of the guards with facial features too haggard to be born Austrian stopped them.
"S'rry Sir," he said with an accent the aristocrat was unable to place. "B't the Duchess's ordered to keep you in the grounds Sir." Roderich frowned but knew better than to command otherwise. If the duchess ordered something it was likely for his own good and he had gotten lost on more than one occasion. She was probably only looking out for him. Between his musings, Roderich hardly noticed Maria working her way ahead of him, removing her bicorn as she approached the guard.
She sniffed twice then looked up at the towering guard with big, watery eyes. They didn't look so devilish when she did that, more of an incandescent ruddy purple than tomato red. It briefly crossed Roderich's mind to ponder as to whether or not they changed colors to match her mood. "Sir," she said softly, her tone similar to that she had used back in the dining room. "Roddy promised to take me out to see the garden. I've been trapped in a carriage for such a long time with nothing beautiful to look at and I would very much love to see it now." Something in the aristocrat's chest contracted. She was putting on quite the display; she sounded like the young girl her body portrayed with all its beauty, her wordplay tugging Roderich's callous heartstrings.
"M'sorry miss, b't what the Duchess says she says." He frowned and placed a large hand on her head, ruffling her hair a little. She sniffed again. Oh, how she was milking him!
"But, please Sir! Miss Duchess need not know! I ever so rarely get to see such beauty as that in such a beautiful Austrian manor and my dear Roderich promised!" The man looked between the begging girl and the aristocrat behind her, failing to notice the bespeckled and amused look on his face, before sighing and motioning for the other guard to step aside.
"Ah s'pose i's alright, so long as this…stays b'tw'n us." Maria smiled and clapped giddily, skipping back to lock her arm into Roderich's and pull him through the gate. The guard called after them; "G'd even'n miss! G'd even'n master Roderich!"
Almost as soon as the gates smacked closed behind them, Maria pushed Roderich away, rubbing fervently at her arm and spitting into the grass. Roderich too rubbed at his now soiled garments. He would never be able to wash the scent of barbarity out. After she regained her composure, Maria smirked cockily, rubbing her fist across her lips in a way that said 'I told you so, didn't I?'.
"We have an actress amongst us," Roderich drawled sarcastically. "A poor one, but the guards around here have never been the brightest. Then again, neither are you."
Maria scoffed, but otherwise said nothing to retort. There was silence until Maria finally stopped, pulling Roderich's shoulder so he was facing her. She focused in on him, eyes back to their usual carmine. "How much farther? I'm tired."
Roderich continued walking, forcing Maria to walk backwards. He briefly considered telling her she was going to fall backwards but decided he would rather like to see it. "Before you were complaining that you were tired of sitting."
"Well yeah, but then I remembered I'm wearing heels and wearing half my weight in petticoats."
"Well, I suppose I don't blame you. Half your weight is quite a lot."
"You know what, priss? If I had my rapier you'd be flayed on the ground right about now." Her tone was nonchalant but he knew better. The heel of her shoe caught on the hem of her dress and she tumbled backwards, landing with a thud on the grass. "Fuck!" Her bicorn rolled just out of her reach.
Roderich looked down at her for a moment before stepping deliberately over her and continuing onwards. "Fuck!" Maria said again, pounding her fist against the grass as she struggled to lift herself up.
It took the aristocrat a moment to realize that the reason Maria was not running after him shouting profanities was because she was incapable of righting herself. He glanced over his shoulder to see her trying to roll onto her stomach, perhaps to giver her a position to push herself up from. He internally contemplated leaving her there but his gentlemanly conscience would not allow someone in a dress – Prussian or not – to flail about like a fish on the grass. It really was a lovely dress, and it would be a shame if it was ruined because its wearer was as clumsy as an elephant.
Sighing, he turned around and returned to her side, flipping her onto her back with his shoe. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up. This, of course, did not go without opposition. Maria screeched and clawed at him, her nails carving pale paths along his arms, but in the end she was righted again. Roderich had to duck a fist she threw angrily at his head. Straight-backed and thoroughly offended, Maria brushed the dirt off her skirt and humph-ed, a blush of combined fury and embarrassment consuming her face. She pointed a finger angrily at the aristocrat; her hair was ruffled and grass stuck to her face. "If you ever touch me like that again," she growled, "I will castrate you with a rusty spoon, tan your ball sacks, and use them as coasters." The threat sounded emptier than usual and Roderich could tell she was resisting the urge to kick him in said ball sacks. She looked around for a moment, her gaze landing on her bicorn, which had blown a ways away. "Shit!" She exclaimed, lifting the sides of her dress and taking off after it.
Roderich too had a bicorn hat, though he only wore his during battle. Maria was protective of hers and wore it almost all of the time, sometimes with and sometimes without the plume. She scurried hurriedly after it as though her life were rolling down a hill away from her, which, had he known, was not overtly far from the truth.
"Bitch!" She shouted, as a gust of wind swept it up and out of her reach, another carrying it away from her at a breakneck pace. She ran after it, one arm raised high in the air while the other scrambled to reach the flyaway hat. "Get back here, you slut!"
Just as he noticed that the hat was flying farther and farther from their destination by the flowers and the lunch table Maria turned around and shouted at him. "Get over here you lousy, good-for-nothing prick! I need that hat!"
Roderich was tempted to leave her to endeavors until he saw the disappointed face of his duchess in his mind. She wagged a finger and sighed, turning her back to him as so many had before her. He shook his head and continued unhurriedly after her. She was captured in a ridiculous dance, pitching herself onto her tip-toes to reach high and bending at 90-degree angles when she needed to reach low, all the while the skirt of her absolutely gorgeous dress fanning out around her. She shouted his name a few more times, each louder and with more fury than the last, until finally he replied "I'm coming! Stop screeching like the simian you are and at least pretend to have civility for once!" She said nothing and continued after her hat.
The scenery changed as the pair reached the forest; manicured grass exchanged for crab weed and groomed pathways for wild flowers. Soon, Roderich too was swept into the dance for the hat. In his mind it became a competition – whoever was to finally retrieve the hat would be supreme, and though it would be a small victory it would be a victory for Austria none the less.
So absorbed he was in 'winning' he didn't notice when his manor house faded out of view and the woods he had planed to look over smacked him in the nose – quite literally.
"Argh!" He rubbed at his cheek and glared angrily at the tree that had so violated it. The trees on the edge of the forest were not as tall or as wide as the trees deeper in but the bark was just as hard. In his negligence, he had failed to notice the quickly approaching greenery. Having been brought back to his senses, he noticed just how far they had strayed.
I'm not supposed to be this far from the house, He thought. I tend to get-
An ear-piercing scream caused him to double over, his hands flying to cover his ears. Maria stood on the edge of the forest, eyes wide, watching as her bicorn was blown up and over the trees. The breeze kicked down and the hat fell somewhere in the woods.
Roderich blinked. He had known Maria for a very long time and never once had he heard her scream with such honest fear in her voice. Not even when he ripped out her finger nails. Not even when he wrote his name in her thigh with a carving knife. She didn't move for a minute or two, only stared at the dense woods before her with wide, horrified eyes. Finally she came to her senses, growling and marching forward.
"Where do you think you're going?" Roderich snapped, his eyes darting between the speck that was his house, the tree he had walked into, Maria, and the woods.
"Where does it look like I'm going? I need that fucking hat." She slowed to a stop and turned to face him, shifting her weight onto her left leg.
"Nowhere fast. You certainly aren't considering going in there after a hat, are you? It's one of a thousand just like it." Something he said must have offended her, because she was on him faster than flies hoarded around decaying flesh.
"There are no other hats like it, alright? Not one in the whole God-damned world." She pushed herself onto the balls of her feet so her nose tapped his. Red orbs pierced violet. There was something just behind the curtain that separated what he understood of Maria from what remained ambiguous. A threat – no, a dare. "I can not and will not loose it."
She turned swiftly to head back towards the woods when Roderich tightly grabbed her shoulder. He fully intended to put her in her place (Who did she think she was? This was Roderich's property, he was simply being gentlemanly enough to show it to her. She was the guest! She did as she was told!) but his nerve weakened at the nearly imperceptible trembles that wracked her frame. "It's just a hat. Get another one. Certainly you have enough money for a simple hat; Mammon makes his home in you, does he not?"
"You would know of Mammon!" She shouted back at him. "It's not my hat, dickhead!" Roderich blinked.
"Not your – "
"What, are you deaf or just retarded? It's not my fucking hat! I'm just borrowing it."
Roderich frowned. "But you've worn it for –"
"I'm borrowing it indefinitely." Her voice softened and she stopped again, just outside the curtain of trees and greenery. "I'm supposed to give it back when the person I've borrowed it from comes back for it." There was something regretful about the way she said it that made him clench his teeth. She was waiting for someone. But who? She had never been married, she had no live family save for Holy Rome. She had a large handful of sexual partners but none so dear she would panic at loosing one of his articles.
Maria paused to take a deep breath before diving into the thick, her dress catching on a few twigs as she disappeared into a sea of bark and greenery.
He was going to let her go alone. But again, the image of his beloved duchess appeared in his mind, her disdainful expression too much to bear. "Look at you, Österreich. You let her get lost in the woods. Way to go, hero."
He sighed and headed in after her. "Wait up, you'll get lost and I'll have to drag your maggot-ridden corpse all the way back to the manor!" He entered precisely where she did and ran headlong into her. She smirked.
"I knew you were coming."
He fumed and blushed at his own predictability. He avoided her eyes. "Well, go on then. I don't know how long we've been out but it's well past noon – your king will think I've murdered you if we don't return soon, and as much as I would like to I'm not too interested in war at the moment."
The Prussian smirked again, turning around and heading forward.
Such an odd beast, The aristocrat thought as he began after her. Full of wrath and hate and evil, yet fiercely loyal and unusually persistent. Again, he considered what their lives might have been like had they been born human. Loyalty was something he respected, something he valued.
Maybe they might have been friends.
Maybe he might have been a masochist.
Notes:
1) By baton I mean those conductors sticks; my orchestra director calls them batons, but I'm not sure if that's what they are officially.
2) Maria Theresa was of the Hapsburg family, which controlled a large part of Europe at the time this story takes place. I'm not sure if she would have been adressed as 'Ms. Hapsburg', but Prussia would do it even if she wasn't just to be insulting.
3) Prussians were Calvinists while Austrians were Catholic, therefore both Prussia and Austria would consider each other heretics. This is one of the reasons why Maria Theresa and Friedrich the Great were not betrothed in actual history. I overlook this fact for the sake of this chapter, but I will go more in depth next chapter.
In case you haven't noticed, I have taken a hellofa lot of creative liberties on this. One, the historical period. This takes place the year that Friedrich the Great becomes king, and lo and behold, both Fritz and Maria Theresa were already married. Ha. I found this out after I started writing. But I 'fixed' it all for next chapter, don't worry. There are lots of others, such as Maria is wearing an English-style dress in Germanic lands, I don't know if heels exist, I don't know if the Prussians and Austrians even used the type of rapier I'm picturing, I don't know if the two countries were at war at the time, I don't know what year Austria-Hungary was created in, I don't know when the Italians started to lobby for unification, and I don't have this following actual historical timeset. That last one I have an excuse for: This is a Hetalia!Historical re-write, so things are not going to follow the same timeline. For all the other inaccuracies, I can only say this; I want this to be believable not realistic. So it has to sound like this could happen, not make sense in actual historical context. Thank you and excuse my rant.
Yeah, not many historical notes in this chapter. If you want clarification on anything, just review or PM me and I'll respond post haste.
A/N: I"m sorry! So sorry! But I wrote as fast as I can! I just finished last week and just finished editing today! I worked so hard to make this as perfect as possible the first time to minimize the editing, and I think it worked but as a result, it took me way long to write. I'm not going to promise quicker updates because I don't know how long future chapters are going to be, but this is the single longest chapter of anything I have ever written ever. And it was initially going to be longer. I already know how I'm going to start next chapter (we start with Maria Theresa and Fritz) and how it's going to end (we meet Hungary :3) but the middle is...yeah. Please review and don't loose hope in me, because while updates will be slow quality will be good and I will not start another big chronological chapter project until it is done!
I changed my page breaks to these ~Hetalia!~ things because I had problems with the triple-asterisk page break in word and had to re-type the first four pages, so I hope you don't mind!
Also, if you caught the blatantly obvious reference at the end there, let me know ;) If you're first, you might get something.
