Thank You so much Fourth in Command Cixalea Jwan for the review and follow!
One thing that can be said about that night is that it was strange. After the wardrobe was flipped and everyone hurried to exit the room while Francis changed into some borrowed clothes from Arthur (and after he was beat over the head with a book for whining about how dull they were), the whole group gathered in the entrance hall to watch Alfred learn to fight with the medieval broadswords that were actually used for things (A.K.A. the ones not for decoration). He actually said "Hey, can I learn how to use those weapon-thingys on the walls? I'm reeeeally bored." But let's congratulate Arthur for figuring out what he wanted. Anyways, after Arthur agreed Francis piped up and said that he could help because he knew how to fight with them. After an hour instructing the American he was taking a break and Arthur had taken over. While he was the better swordsman by far, that also meant he was much stricter. Poor Alfred.
"Keep your knees bent you fool!" He yelled for the thousandth time that night. He was answered with a whining "Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?"
"Well you did want to learn did you not? And he is teaching you." Francis piped up from the side of the room where he was flirting with a certain maid who pretended not to notice. Also there was the butler who watched the two and the Prussian who was chugging the beer Arthur had provided. "For goodness sake Alfred, keep your sword ready! A lapse in defence like that could lead to a fatal blow!" Just then a frenzied knocking came from the front door. As the American looked to the sound he received a hard smack to the torso with the blunt side of Arthur's sword. "Never lose focus." The Brit added to the physical scolding. "Who would be here at this time in the middle of a storm?" He asked, remembering the ten chimes that had rung out from his grandfather clock about fifteen minutes ago."I submit that we take a break?" He asked and received a nod. "All right Alfred," The Brit walked over to the door. "I think you're about ready to take on Gilbert." He finished, pulling open the large wooden doors. A gust of wind entered the hall along with several giant balls of hail. Shivering in the doorway was the young brown-haired Italian boy known as Feliciano Vargas. Dressed in a thin jacket and jeans he looked freezing cold and about to pass out. Holding his eye where a particularly large ball of hail had hit it upon opening the door, the Brit immediately stepped aside for the cold Italian to enter.
"Feliciano! What in the world are you doing out here alone in the storm? It's hailing like the dickens out there!"
"I-I, Lovino s-sent me out-t to g-get cheese. The s-storm started when I was in the store and your house is closer than ours. Can I stay here until the storm lets out please?"
..."Oh course you can stay here! He sent you out for cheese? Here."Arthur led Feliciano to the nearest chair. "Edelstein! Get him some tea or something." Roderich rolled his eyes.
"I-if you don't mi-mind," Feliciano sneezed. "I-I'd prefer coffee o-or cocoa." Arthur raised an eyebrow at the Austrian. The servant mumbled and left to go about his task. After returning with some hot chocolate he looked on, amused, at the two competitive men going at it with the broadswords. Gilbert ducked under a well-aimed swing by Alfred and returned one, aiming for the other's head. Alfred deflected the blow with a powerful counter attack that caused both to step back. Glaring, the two gritted their teeth and went in again, causing a startled Feliciano to jump when the blades collided with a resounding ring of metal on metal, followed by (slightly) softer and continual hits. After watching the two continue their intense battle France asked if the blades were sharp.
"Of course they are! What kind of respectable swordsman would I be if I didn't keep my weapons well-maintained and let them get dull?" The Brit demanded.
Feliciano looked startled. "What? They could really hurt each other! What if they cut each other's heads off?" The frightened Italian wailed.
"They know better. Besides, they are evenly matched enough that neither will sustain serious injury...Even so, I'm betting on Gilbert." Arthur finished after seeing said Prussian pull off a particularly tricky blocking move.
"Betting what? I'll match it for the American." Francis challenged.
Arthur studied him for a moment. "How about *30 pounds? About 33 1/2 Euros, I think. "
"Done."
"Kesesesese! You're in for it now!" Gilbert yelled, breathing heavily. "I have the master of the house counting on my awesomeness! I will defeat you!"
"No way! I'm a hero, and heroes never lose!" Alfred yelled, breathing equally as hard. With a grunt, Gilbert threw Alfred the strongest stroke yet. Grinning at the challenge, the American met his force with the next blow.
"Well done, now they officially won't stop until one is flat on his back." Elizabeta cemented. Both of the betting blonds shrugged and continued watching while the poor Italian jumped with each of the rapid blows.
"Oh, by the way, the coffee machine is on fire..." Roderich said with an offhand tone.
"What!? Are you a pyromaniac now? Stop playing with those damn matches!" Elizabeta yelled before racing towards the extinguisher for the second time that day.
Roderich watched her leave. "No, I'm not a pyromaniac, but it doesn't help that I don't know how to use those stupid things..." He muttered, unnoticed. With a sigh he went off to do who-knows-what and the others watched with growing anticipation as both duelers were starting to show signs of weakness. Gilbert deflected the strokes sloppily, while Alfred's attacks were even more focused on bursts of strength and became even less graceful than before. He saw what he thought was an opening, but responded to late. Falling forward, carried from his momentum, he stumbled and could do nothing to prevent the blade being pushed against his neck by the red-faced and sweaty Prussian.
"Kesesesesesese!" Gilbert panted heavily while laughing. "I, the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt, have won this duel." He announced.
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! Now we can stop fighting and go have paaaasta, right?" Feliciano cheered, then doubled his efforts when Arthur nodded. "Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaassssssss sttttttttttttttaaaaaaaaaaa! He yelled all the way into the kitchen that the maid was still trying to put out. After smelling the smoke he returned to the group and said it could wait awhile. "Unless you want it really, really burnt, then I'll go make some!" He told them. "Lets play hide-and-go-seek!" He yelled to the others. They all agreed when they could think of nothing better to do (except Francis. Who, as always, was full of ideas regarding "better" things to do at the moment). After the two servants joined them(and the kitchen was completely put out) the game began.
* About 50 American Dollars according to my phone.
Burnt. I only use burnt instead of burned when I'm writing! Don't assume it's a habit because I speak more casually then I write (Unless I'm writing America in which the goal is to make him speak an informally as possible). Just thought I'd throw that out there to prove to my grammar-intense friend that she hasn't influenced me in proper grammar. Take that Grell!
Author's note: Woo! Another chapter come and gone. The phrase "so much time, so little to do" doesn't really apply to me considering I can have an hour to do something and get absolutely nothing done. I blame my ADD. But when you don't take medication for it all you can do is what you can. Yay, I'm getting over the very sad weekend I had by writing fan fiction. Who knew the cure for missing the state's biggest anime celebration would be writing fan-fics? Anyways, always use siblings as human shields, put fan fiction before homework (before sleep too, for that matter), and always remember Utah. I swear, everyone either forgets us or hates the state. Mormons aren't all we have, we have "The greatest snow on earth" too. (And the awesome Mormons, but it seems people prefer skiing to even us completely laid-back Mormons who DO support gay rights). At least if someone's pissed at the US us Utahns won't be the target. But seriously I swear we are like some mini Canada or something except Mr. Kumajirou is a cougar and we don't have a UN representative. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Ciao!
