Author's Note: Is anyone here going to AnimeNEXT? I will be there as Norway at many of the Hetalia events. Please, if you see me, stop and say hello! (Check my DeviantART page to see me in my costume.)

Title: Born This Hetalian Way

Song: Marry the Night

I was born great.

Three Rules Every Nation Must Follow:

Rule 1: Always obey your leader.

Rule 2: Always do what is best for the people. (Rule 2 takes priority over Rule 1. Rule 1 may be broken for the sake of, and only for the sake of, Rule 2.)

Rule 3: Never allow yourself to develop feelings for a human.


A harsh scream echoed throughout the castle. No, scratch that, several harsh screams could be heard. Prussia looked up and in the direction of the cries. Oh yeah, there was no doubt as to who it was. Sighing and rolling his eyes, the albino picked himself up from his desk and headed down the hallways towards his king's room. Someone had to save that kid.

Prussia didn't bother knocking. He simply opened the door, and a child ran out as fast as he possibly could. Prussia could see bruises and scratches covering the child's body along with fat tears running down his cheeks. He kept screaming even as he ran down the hallway to some unknown sanctuary.

"WHY THE HELL DID YOU LET HIM GO?" came the booming voice of Prussia's (very) angry boss. "The damn kid keeping defying me. If I have to, I'll beat the sense into him! He needs to learn what it means to be Prussian, to be KING!"

And, with that, King Frederick William I grabbed his country, dragged him into the room, and proceeded to beat him instead.


It took a few hours and some comfort from his wife, but the king finally managed to calm down and cease his beating of his country. Prussia breathed a sigh of relief and left the room before the man's temper could be inflamed again. Queen Sophia was a godsend, Prussia decided. He noticed that the woman smiled knowingly and waved to him as he left, as if she had planned to save her country from her husband's wrath. How she managed to put up with that man was beyond Prussia's comprehension.

The albino walked down the hallways of the castle, back towards his own office, when he heard sniffling coming from outside. Confused, Prussia looked out the window and cocked an eyebrow. "It's been over two hours," he murmured. "The kid is STILL crying?" He headed for the nearest door to the outside and opened it slowly, as not to scare the child. He quietly walked towards the little boy and knelt down in front of him, smirking. "Crying isn't awesome."

The boy looked up and wiped the tears from his cheeks with his shirt sleeves. He remained silent, looking away from the albino, secretly hoping he would leave.

Prussia just kept smirking. "That one isn't gonna work on me, kid. You should know that by now."

Still silent.

"...If you don't speak up, I'll show you why that prissy aristocrat won't let me anywhere near his piano."

"DON'T DESTROY MY FLUTE!"

The boy slapped his hands over his mouth, and his eyes widened.

Prussia laughed. "Works every time, kesesesesese!" With that, he sat down next to the boy on the bench. "So, little Frederick, like I said, crying isn't awesome. Real Prussians don't cry, and real kings in general don't cry."

Frederick glared in an attempt to look intimidating, but he just looked like a fussy child. Prussia found it adorable. "And my father? He cries all the time."

Prussia sighed. "Yeah, your old man's got issues. But, hey, at least he does his job well."

Frederick looked away. "Just 'issues,' huh?" he asked, obviously not buying it. "So I suppose him beating me repeatedly and rather harshly is just another one of his issues? Last time I checked, parents don't exactly abuse their children if they love them."

"Let's not talk about your old man," the albino muttered, honestly not wanting to talk about him. Yes, he respected and obeyed King Frederick William I, but it wasn't because he wanted to. If he has his way, he would have abandoned the volatile man a long time ago, but he was doing everything right for his country and his people. Therefore, Prussia had no choice but to obey him. It was times like that when Prussia wished his was human so that he wouldn't have to listen to his ruler if he didn't want to. He had met his fair share of Prussian people who did not like their king and did everything they could to defy him. Those people, Prussia decided, had some serious balls.

That was one reason why, although he would never admit it, doted on little Frederick so much. The boy was next in line to take the throne, which meant that Prussia would have to obey him one day. However, the boy, just like all the other rulers Prussia had ever had, was human. That meant he did not have to directly follow in his father's footsteps. He could do what he wanted, within reason, of course. He was still royalty. Royalty didn't have much more freedom than nations did.

"Good," Frederick muttered, "I don't want to talk about him either. I can't stand him." He tried to move and immediately winced in pain. Prussia, noticing this, moved closer to the boy.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Where does it hurt?" He gently pressed his hand against the boy's back. Frederick replied with a little yelp, and Prussia nodded. "Well, that answers that question. Hold still." He slowly lifted the boy's shirt to get a good look at his bare back and gasped. "Oh crap," he whispered, taking in the huge bruise. The king really did a number on the boy this time, while Prussia himself had escaped with a few minor injuries. He figured that the king had probably taken out the worst of his anger on his son before he showed up.

"It's bad, isn't it?" the boy whispered as tears started falling again. "My head hurts, too, and everything is aching. My face is probably going to swell up."

"Hush, you'll be fine," Prussia murmured, setting the shirt back down. He stood and held out his arms. "I'll take you to one of the nurses." He knelt and smiled pleasantly, trying to cheer the boy up. Frederick kept crying and reached out towards his nation, gripping his coat tightly. Slowly and gently, Prussia carried him back into the castle and took him to a nurse.

"I don't want to be a king."

Prussia rubbed the boy's back soothingly. "I'm afraid that you don't have much of a choice," he whispered, "but you can decide how you want to be when you grow up. No one said you had to be a total ass like your old man. Don't give up on your life, Frederick. You can live it passionately, however you want to."

It was all he wanted for his future king.


Sadly, there are always bumps along the road.

Frederick was not a particularly poorly-behaved teenager. He and his father had their differences, like all parents and children do, but theirs happened to be a bit bigger than the averaged set. Prussia honestly felt sorry for the kid. His father, as established, was quite psycho at times and often took his anger out on his son, even when it wasn't his fault, even when he had nothing to do with the situation. At one point, Frederick couldn't take it anymore and attempted to flee to Great Britain with his best friend Katte and several other junior officers. As soon as Prussia got word of that, he knew what was going to happen.

Predictably enough, Frederick William lost his shit.

When the boys had finally been found, Frederick William could only think of one thing: punishment. After all, royalty fleeing to another country was considered treason. The only question was the best way to do so. Death penalty? No, that would be difficult to justify, as it had only been one crime. (That was not to say that the king wasn't tempted. The thought of getting rid of this boy who had caused him so many headaches over the years was quite appealing.) Renouncing the throne to his brother? No, that would also be difficult to justify for this one crime. (Although this was also quite tempting to the king.)

And then, finally, he had it. He knew his son's weakness.

So he forced the boy to watch the decapitation of Katte.

Prussia's heart broke as soon as he heard the news. Poor Sophia came to him in tears at how unfair it was for her husband to treat her dear son in such a way. Prussia couldn't help but agree as he held the woman and let her cry. However, after a moment of tears, Sophia ordered the nation to see her son in prison. "He trusts you more than anyone else...well, now anyway..." She trailed off, realizing how awful that statement was. It was no secret that Frederick had trusted Katte more than anyone.

So Prussia left for the prison that held his beloved future king. He couldn't even see the boy for two whole days though, because he was suffering from hallucinations and dreadful nightmares. "Well, no shit," the albino thought bitterly. "What would anyone expect?"

When Frederick finally calmed down, Prussia was allowed to see him. As soon as the teenager caught sight of him, he jumped up and wrapped his arms around him, wailing loudly. It took hours to calm him down further, but Prussia was in no hurry. Any time spent with Frederick was not time wasted.

"They forced me to watch him die," he whispered. "They're monsters..."

Prussia nodded. "Human beings are the worst kind of monsters."

"I feel so empty," Frederick whispered, his grip on Prussia tightening. "I can't be a solder-king. I'm a solder of emptiness."

"Don't say that," the nation murmured, hugging the future king tighter. "It wasn't your fault. Your damn father can't see that. He's blinded by his love of violence."

Frederick immediately pulled away and glared at the albino, his blue eyes much more threatening than the red ones before him. "You are a vulgar hypocrite," he hissed. "You love war and violence. I see the way your face lights up every time we go to battle. I see how delighted you become when you hear of our enemies getting beat down. I know that the only thing you desire is to see Austria die a horrible death. You are, how shall I put this in terms you'd understand? You're a dick."

Prussia shut his eyes tightly and let the words sink in. The kid had a point. He did love war and fighting a lot, probably a lot more than he should. And, yes, he wanted nothing more than to see Austria suffer. But one thing bothered him. "Don't compare me to that asshole known as your father," he said sternly, staring right back at the teenager. "I'm not the one who beats your ass for no good reason."

After a tense moment, Frederick broke down again, sobbing into his nation's shirt and thoroughly soaking it, though Prussia didn't mind. "I'm...s-sorry," he whispered.

Prussia just laughed. "It's all good. Don't cry for too long though, because crying isn't awesome, remember? Just listen to me." He took a deep breath and continued, "I don't get that philosophy and art and poetry and crap you like. Maybe, in that sense I am no better than your father. But that doesn't mean I think you should stop studying it, if that's what you really love. Though, I gotta say, I'm not exactly pleased that you like French more than German. But...whatever. That's none of my business. You just keep being you. Hell, I hope you delve so deep into that crap that it's like you're married to it. Just promise me that you'll keep being yourself. I don't want you to become your father."

"Don't insult me!" Frederick shouted into his chest. "I am a cultured, enlightened, refined gentleman! My father is a horrible man. He's...yes, that's it...HE'S A TOTAL DICK."


Frederick smiled at Prussia. "I'm King now."

The albino breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

The two laughed.

"But things aren't perfect," the new king continued, the atmosphere immediately becoming more serious. "I have lots of plans for you."

"Oh?" Prussia asked, genuinely interested. "I want to hear."

Frederick smiled slightly from across his desk and looked at the map of Europe hanging on the wall. "I plan on uniting all of Prussia during my reign. I'm sick of all these little territories. If we want to modernize and have a sense of nationalism, we're going to need you, so to speak, in one piece. I plan on introducing some new social policies, too."

Prussia raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Frederick nodded. "Freedom of the press. Freedom of speech. Freedom of religion. Freedom to assemble. Everything. The people shall have the freedom to speak and live as they wish."

The albino started to protest but stopped when he saw the smile on his king's face. He shrugged and lifted his palms up towards the man. "Okay, I trust you. Whatever you want. Gotta admit, freedom sounds awesome." He grinned and relaxed. "Damn, you're separating yourself from your old man quickly."

"Please don't bring him up," the king deadpanned. "I finally don't have to listen to his nagging anymore, nor do I have to suffer his abuse. You know how long I have been waiting for this day."

"Since the freakin' day you were born! Damn, when you were a little brat, you used to scream your head off whenever that man came within ten meters of you!"

"And I am quite proud of that fact. I have good taste, yes?"

"You've got taste down...except for when it comes to, uh, that Frenchman."

Frederick groaned. "Please do no be such a brat yourself," he nearly begged. "Voltaire is a very good friend of mine. He makes better company than my wife."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "You're gonna die without an heir."

"Oh, be quiet," the king snapped, frowning angrily. "I just became your king, and you're already talking about my death? Spare me, Prussia. And spare Voltaire. You sound like you're jealous of the time I spend with him."

"CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT HIM?" Prussia nearly screamed, causing Frederick to jump back in surprise. His eyes widened at the sudden outburst, and he snatched at the fabric covering his chest where his heart was. It was only after seeing this expression that Prussia realized what he said and his tone in which he had said it. "Um...sorry, that wasn't awesome."

"I should say not," Frederick exhaled as his surprised heartbeat started to return to normal. "My God, Prussia, that was the kind of thing I used to say whenever my father came up in conversation. How could you possibly put him on the same level as Voltaire?"

Prussia did not reply.

Frederick, sensing that he wasn't going to an answer, continued talking about his plans. "If it's of any interest to you, I have a reason for us to attack Austria."

Prussia immediately straightened. "I'm listening."

Frederick almost laughed at how excited his nation had become. He knew what made him happy. He knew him too well. "It's his new leader. What was her name? Maria Theresa?"

"Oh yeah, that bitch," Prussia replied, speaking as if that was the highest title the woman deserved. "Didn't you offer to marry her once?"

Based on the look on Frederick's face, Prussia decided that that was the wrong thing to say.

"Hmm," the king groaned, "she thinks she can rule Austria. Shall we show her otherwise?"

"Kesesesese," Prussia cackled, "awesome."

Frederick almost smiled. That wasn't Prussia's usual cackle. It was usually much more confident and arrogant. That cackle was unsure and somewhat fearful. Frederick didn't have to ask to know why, and it broke his heart.

Jealousy.


To do what one wanted was the greatest high possible. To be the person one wanted to be and to act upon one's own wishes was the best thing a person could ever accomplish. Frederick always knew that he would try to do these things, but he never dreamed he would accomplish them to the degree he did. There was nothing left for him to explore on the streets of his country, for he had done what he had always wanted to do. It was more than being different than his father. This went much deeper than that. It was about getting what he wanted while being the person he wanted to be.

He got almost everything he had wanted.

Almost.

"I am such a sinner," he whispered to the night air, but then he cracked a smile. "I sort of like it." With that, he left his office, leaving the window wide open. The night was too beautiful to close out.

He went looking for Prussia.

After a few moments, he found his beloved nation in his bedchambers. "May I come in?" he asked.

Prussia shrugged. "Don't see why not. What is it? Something you want to talk about?"

Frederick didn't reply. Instead, he just walked forward and hugged his nation tightly, lovingly, refusing to let go. The room was silent save for their breathing. Prussia was a bit too stunned to say much of anything.

And then, Frederick moved away slightly. "Why is it that your heart beats?" he asked.

Prussia found his voice. "Huh?"

"Your heart. It beats," the king repeated. He looked up. "Why is that? You are a nation and live for thousands of years, yet you are shaped like a human with a beating heart, a thinking mind, and a working body. Why is that, if the chances of you as a nation dying are slim to none? Why bother giving you all the characteristics of a human when you are not?"

Prussia wasn't quite so sure of how to reply. He looked away awkwardly and finally said, "Don't ask me. I know lots of crap, but that's one thing no nation knows."

"I was just wondering," the king murmured quietly. "Don't mind me. That's the philosophy study talking." He shrugged and rested his head on Prussia's shoulder. "Please don't be jealous of Voltaire."

The albino almost pushed the man away, but he was too stunned to do much of anything. "Where the hell did that come from?" he asked, honestly confused. They had not spoken about the Frenchman in quite some time, and to bring up the topic of jealousy so randomly...Hey, wait a second. "I'm not jealous of that un-awesome loser!" Prussia shouted. "Why the hell should I be jealous of him? He's not an awesome Prussian, and he's a man from France, not that France isn't awesome. That guy is my Bad Friend, but...oh God, I'm so confused."

"Don't be," Frederick whispered. He lifted his head and, without a warning, pressed his lips to Prussia's. The kiss only lasted a second, but it left Prussia breathless. "I don't want you to be confused. I want you to know that I love you."

Prussia was not sure how to react. His king had just kissed him. HIS KING HAD JUST KISSED HIM. Was that normal? He himself had kissed Frederick when he was a boy, but that was usually to make the pain of the bruises from his father's beatings go away. And he had memories of a young Frederick kissing his cheek out of childlike love. This was not that, neither of those.

His king was in love with him.

"Well...duh, you do," he replied hesitantly, attempting to brush the words off as nothing. "You said so yourself. 'I am the First Servant of my State.' So, OF COURSE, you love me! Kesesese!" He laughed arrogantly in an attempt to lift the mood, but he quickly realized that his king was being deadly serious. He looked down at the man with wide, scared eyes. He didn't know how to handle this. This...it was far too much.

"I love you," Frederick repeated.

And Prussia realized that there was only one proper, true response he could say.

"I love you, too."

In that moment, all of the jealousy and the fear and the uneasy feelings of being unsure disappeared. Frederick was a man of his word. He didn't say things without meaning them. Prussia, while he was one to exaggerate, never said anything he didn't believe.

They moved quickly to Frederick's bedchambers, where they knew no one would dare to go without permission from the king himself. Frederick opened the windows in his room and let the night air burst forward. It was cool but not cold, a good night to stay awake. No sooner had he done so, Prussia grabbed him and kissed him forcefully. Finally. He had wanted to do that for so long. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice told him that he was breaking a rule, the most important rule with the worst consequences. But he ignored it. He didn't care anymore. Screw the rules. Love was the new war. He suddenly realized that he was happier kissing his king than he ever was watching Austria suffer.

They fell backwards onto the bed, panting and flushed. "Don't go too crazy," Frederick whispered. "Don't poke any holes into the sheets with your fingernails. This is where we make love."

And they married on that night.


It wasn't until August 17, 1786, when Prussia finally realized why that third rule was the worst one to break, why it was the most important, and why it had the worst consequences.

Frederick II, Frederick the Great, Old Fritz, his beloved King of Prussia, died that day.

And Prussia remained the same young man he always was and always would be, never dying, his heart still beating, even though it was not meant to.


Prussia snapped out of his daydream and looked outside. Nighttime. Of course. It wasn't snowing, thank God. That was a welcome change on this cold day in November.

Quietly, he placed the bottle on the silver tray and walked towards the office. The door was open, and a strange tension emerged from it. The breath caught in Prussia's throat. Something was off tonight.

I hate nights, he thought bitterly. Just before he made it to the door, another thought struck him. Where is Ukraine?

"WHY ARE EAST GERMANS DEMANDING TO CROSS THE WALL?"

Crash! Splash!

Russia looked up and stared into red, horrified eyes. Prussia had dropped the bottle of vodka in shock, and, for a moment, he couldn't comprehend what he had just heard. He stared at Russia, too scared to move.

But then he did.

He ran outside to his freedom.

And married the night all over again.

I'm gonna marry the night.

I'm gonna marry the night.

Gonna marry the night.

I'm gonna marry the night.

I'm not gonna cry anymore.

I'm gonna marry the night.

Leave nothing on these streets to explore.

Ma-ma-ma-marry, ma-ma-ma-marry the night.

END