Disclaimer: Hetalia and all its characters does not belong to me; they belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. No offense intended to any real countries, because as I said before, this is Hetalia. ;)
Chapter Two - ~Österreich~
She dug a hole in the ground with her hands. Well, basically, she was simply clawing at the dirt with her long fingernails that were usually dirty with dust from housework and now from other things, such as blood and soil. Her thoughts sickened her, after a while. They were matter-of-fact, and she wasn't trying to think about the body at all anymore. In fact, she was doing her damnedest to avoid the fact that someone she knew was already dead. But she was still digging his grave with her hands. It sounded rather macabre when she said it like that. "Damned German, dying where I can't...can't bury...bury him...these Germans are all like that..." she murmured, pausing. "They always make more trouble and I always have to clean up after them..." Hungary laughed to herself, humorlessly. She knew something was off about her own reactions, but she couldn't bear to actually let it all out. That would be defeat; and she still had her pride as a nation. "I hate them...all of them..." She swiped at her eyes as a tear formed in one of her eyes and continued plumbing into the dirt. Her fingernails burned; her hands felt as though they would fall off at any given moment. But she couldn't leave his body like that...neglected...as if no one had seen what had happened to him. She just couldn't. So she kept digging, well into the night, and at some point she fell asleep and woke up in the morning. So much sunlight; she thought she was going to be blinded by it. Why, Austria-san? It doesn't make any sense. Was he lying? She stared at Prussia's body, lying against the tree. For all the world he looked as though he was sleeping; she'd covered what of him she could with his uniform, but it didn't cover enough. She wished she could pretend he had never happened. She wished that this was all just a big nightmare, and that she was going to wake up to find herself back in Austria-san's house. She wished and wished; but no matter how much she wished, nothing happened. I hate this. I hate Prussia, I hate this damn game, I hate...all of this. I hate this. She gave up on digging after a while and stood up, dusting off soil and dirt of what remained of her dress. This wasn't going to work. If she knew she was going to have to dig graves for other countries, she would've asked her boss for a shovel. But things were tight back at home; what she was given had been given reluctantly, and only after a lot of begging. "Ugh, why does this always...why does this always happen to me?" "Hungary?" She turned around, surprised. Two intruders in the space of twelve hours? I'm getting popular. Hungary thought wryly to herself, before her eyes strayed towards where Prussia lay, and immediately sobered up at the thought of what had happened last time. She picked up her broom, not exactly sure who the figure in the trees was; but she had a good idea as he stepped closer to the edge of the clearing. "Austria-san?" she hazarded, stepping towards him but making sure they were still far apart. "Is that you?" "Hungary!" He stumbled into the clearing; and unlike Prussia, he didn't have any blood staining his robes. He adjusted his glasses as he stopped himself from falling over and glanced over to where Prussia lay, before looking back at her, a grim look on his face. "Are you alright? Did he do anything to you?" Hungary stiffened; the sound of caring in his voice was one she hadn't heard for a long time. She pulled the broom across her chest in a defensive stance; what was going on? She had no idea. "I...I don't know." She hesitated, not sure what to think. She didn't budge as he walked towards her, simply holding up her broom in some sort of self-defense. What was she to do? He sighed and shook his head to himself, putting his hands on his hips; a typical Austria expression. "Really, Hungary. What is that all about?" He looked up, and to her surprise, started chuckling. "Honestly, though. Either he harmed you or he didn't. Which one is it?" Hungary stared at him hollowly. Why was he laughing? Couldn't he see Prussia? Couldn't he see that he was dead? Then Prussia hadn't lied. Even though she couldn't fathom the reason why Austria-san would do such a thing...Prussia wouldn't lie. Neither would Germany, or even the country standing in front of her. Austria-san. Why did he feel so foreign to her now? "You're laughing," she whispered. "Austria-san...you look...happy." "Hungary?" He stared at her, as if not sure what to make of her. She stared back as well, realizing something needed to be said. Something that would confirm her fears, at the very least. After all, Austria-san wouldn't lie. She straightened up to look him in the eye, and read the uncertainty in his expression. "...you...you killed Prussia, didn't you?" There. She let it spill out between them, between herself, the broom and him. He had raised his hand towards her, as if to touch her shoulder, but dropped it quickly when he heard the question. A cold look appeared as he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, and she could see his eyes narrowed at her. She stood her ground, glaring back at him, waiting for him to make his next move. "Austria." He glanced away, not meeting her eyes. "Why do you want to know, Hungary? Did you really care for him?" He looked back at her, his glare biting into her own. "Perhaps you cared for him more than you did for me." Hungary bit her lip. Was that really what he believed? But no, she couldn't extend her sympathy to him right now. I love him. This she knew, plainly. But Hungary never was a girl to let her own feelings cloud her judgement. I can't forgive him. She couldn't forgive Prussia's death so easily. For all that he was; obnoxious, pushy, sometimes downright stupid-she had to admit that she never wanted to see him dead. She couldn't give in now; and as she stood there, contemplating the silence that stretched out between them like a soundless wall, he bowed his head, and sighed. He had said on her guard; but the name-dropping was too sudden, too casual for her to not notice it and be disarmed by surprise. This was the opening he had looked for; he suddenly slipped out a dagger and flicked it her way. Assassination techniques? Her mind screamed, but her body, still remembering all her old drills, quickly danced away; in her right hand flipped the only other thing she had in her arsenal-her trusty old frying pan. "Austria!" But she was too slow for the next dagger. It slipped through her already torn-up dress and into her side; her frying pan batted the next one away, aimed directly for her chest. Too many openings; it's been too long. Her mind whispered to her as her knees collapsed; for some reason she felt drowsy; very much so. "Aus...tria...you...poi...son?" "I'm afraid so, Hungary," he whispered, standing over her; soon enough, her strength gave away and she found herself lying on the grass. He knelt over her prone form, smiling bitterly. "It's been too long since our last battle, hasn't it, darling?" Her mouth worked furiously as she tried to get the next question out properly. Her throat refused to work; it burned. Every single part of her body burned from within, but she could only feel the burn, not the pain. She was quickly going numb; her sight was slipping away from her. "Aus...tria...why?" He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them, and meeting her own frankly; grief, disgrace, and something else. "You wouldn't really understand," he whispered, running a hand over her hair. "You don't know what it's like; to hold an empire in your hands and then watch as it all collapses around you. You simply don't." He looked away, dropping her hand, and stood up. "Goodbye, Elizaveta." Her human name, again; something caught in her throat as she reached up to grab the hand that had left her own, but he had already turned away from her, and was walking away- -and she couldn't feel anything anymore for a while, her body had gone completely numb before her mind gave away, and everything became blank for a long stretch, where she could hear herself saying whyover and over again, uncomprehending, unable to understand, deserted, trapped in a whirl of her own thoughts, even though he had told her- -he was right. She couldn't understand what it was like to hold a crumbling empire in her hands. A lot of the other countries did; England for one, or Turkey, who she hated. She hated Mongolia, too. Bullies and idiots, all the lot of them. Austria, she had known before the Holy Roman Empire had ever existed. She had known the other side of him; the constantly irritated boy she would often fight with, other than Prussia. Both of them had been her enemies- -but those days had long disappeared into history. Where was her pride gone?- -She hated empires, with a passion. It was a long while before she was aware of what was going around her. The first hint of her not being dead was some sort of awful concoction passing through her lips; it burned her throat, and she coughed reflexively. Whoever made it must be an awful cook, she feebly thought, before slipping back into unconsciousness. It was a long while after that she felt the moist cloth on her forehead coaxing her back from her stupor. "Uh..." "Hungary?" The voice sounded familiar; not too familiar, but she'd heard it somewhere at least a few times. She couldn't place who it was. "Eh, you're alive after all. Can you sit up?" "Uhhh..." She opened her eyes blearily for a moment, and was immediately assaulted with the cup to her mouth, again. the voice said, hovering anxiously over her face. She was seeing the voice for some reason; and then she saw red when the strange brew passed into her throat again. I'm going to kill you, whoever you are, when I wake up. She thought feebly, feeling murder froth in the back of her throat. Maybe Austria's right after all... No, that's a stupid thought. "Hungary," the voice called out after what seemed like hundreds of years later. "Are you awake? Wait-actually, why am I even doing this?" He sighed to himself. "But I can't leave her alone either...what am I supposed to do?" Suddenly, it hit her like a pile of rocks directly on her head. Him. She suddenly sat up, her senses not quite functioning properly, and her hands reached for his collar. "What the-" He was cut off, as her fingers wrapped themselves around his throat. "Gah!" "You. Die. This instant. I'm going to kill you," she stated plainly, squashing the air out of his throat. "It's because of you we're playing this game!" "OY!" He managed to tear himself away from her clawing hands and gasped for air, clearly shaken by her almost zombie-like movement to choke the life out of him. He didn't have time to regain his normal breathing, though; Hungary stood up, still enraged, and stomped towards him angrily. He scooted away rapidly and backed up into a tree. "H-hey! Listen to me!" "You deserved that, and worse!" She glared down at him, cracking her knuckles. She fully intended to choke the life out of him, and enjoy doing it, since he was responsible for all this mess. That, and he reminded her too much of Austria. They even had the same air, for Magyar's sake! Then she looked down, realizing she was missing something. "My pan..." She slithered closer to him, looking more and more like a zombie. "What have you done with my pan?" "Now, now..." He held out his hands in front of him in a pacifying gesture, now looking somewhat less scared but still defensive. "C-calm down. You'll make your health worse if you do that." He pushed himself slowly up the tree as he talked, finally standing instead of being hovered over. "You don't want to get worse, do you?" "My...health." She paused, remembering not what had happened before she had fallen sick, but rather what had happened during it. She immediately bristled. "You're the one that gave me that thing to drink?" He nodded, looking wary. Immediately her arms shot up, her hands reaching again for his neck. "Then you deserve WORSE!" Then, they dropped. The other country gulped audibly as he sidled away from the tree and put a decent distance between himself and her, and watched her, unsure of what she would do next. This was a new thing. He was usually so certain of himself that his fear seemed out of place. What had happened to him? She glanced towards him, gauging his expression. Yes, it was definitely out of place, that fear; and could she sense guilt? "I was poisoned...did you save me?" He glanced away, almost in the sense of 'not wanting to be acknowledged'. "Ye...yes, I did, actually..." He looked back at her, looking even more unsure of what she would do next. "It wasn't anything big, just so you know." When there wasn't any answer from her, he straightened up and brought out a handkerchief from one of his pockets, dabbing at his cheek slightly at it. A few more moments passed, before, he dropped the act and glared at her. "Oy, are you going to stand all day there or what?" "I'm a sick person, I think I'm allowed to do whatever I want!" she shot back, and looked away guiltily. It wasn't really him that she was irritated with anymore; after all, he hadsaved her. But it felt uncalled-for, random. Why her? She glanced back at him; he was sitting on one of the boulders now. "Sorry. I just don't know what to make of this." He made an irritated noise, looking towards the tents; tents? Hungary felt a little jealous, suddenly. How come he had tents and she didn't? "You're not the only one who didn't see this coming." He shrugged, looking defeated. Why did he look so small, even though he was taller than her? That was one thing Hungary never quite understood. "I didn't think this would happen." "Well, obviously you weren't thinking!" She sighed, making her seat on the ground. "But then again, neither was anyone else." She glanced around again; suddenly, an alarm clock started ringing. His head shot up at the sound, while her eyebrows twitched. An alarm clock? "That's ridiculous!" She finally exploded. "How can you have so many of these useless things when I'm not even allowed to bring a weapon?" "Eh, well, that's-" "Never mind!" She sighed. She was getting angry too easily, too quickly. Even if he was an idiot, he probably deserved better since he saved her life. She covered her face in her hands for a moment, not sure exactly what on Earth was going on. After a while she heard the sound of pages turning. The dolt had sneaked in a fantasy novel, too. She watched him, curiously. England, or as he often liked to call himself during official events, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, wasn't very well known to her. The last time they had been close enough to speak face to face was during the War of Austrian Succession; and even there he hadn't exactly made a good reputation for himself. "See, I did this and that and I almost drowned France, that bastard-" Then when the actual fighting had appeared, he'd signed out ever so smoothly, leaving Austria to deal with Prussia until she came to save his behind. Just the thought of it made her eyebrow twitch, just a little; and it wasn't only England evoking the reaction, although he was certainly part of it. "What else did you bring over?" she finally asked, after a few moments, not wanting to think about the past anymore. "I hope you brought food over?" "But of course!" he protested. "What do you think I am, an idiot?" No, but you certainly are a spoiled country. "I'm going to cook these, and don't you dare object." Hungary grabbed the food from him and began chopping everything up before he could even protest. It wasn't half an hour before England hovered at her side, peering into the pot she was cooking in. (Also lent by him.) "What's that you're making?" "You'll find out soon." She almost couldn't believe they were actually getting along together, but they were. Still, one question kept nagging at the back of her head. England was like Austria; they had both had empires at one point in history, and the times she'd heard England whining to America about having separated from him sounded as though he really wanted his empire back. So why'd he save her? "Say." Another page turn; he was back on his seat again. "What? I'm busy. Make it quick." Yes, you're busy reading a novel and I'm busy cooking both our suppers. She suspiciously picked up one of the seasonings and sniffed at it gingerly. Not a bad smell, but not exactly what she was looking for. Oh well, she'd have to make do. "How'd you get the poison out?" She decided that would be a safer question to ask, rather than going right into the reasons. Besides, she was curious about this, too. "Austria doesn't like doing things halfway. The poison should've killed me." "Oh, that!" He grinned menacingly; for a moment there, Hungary winced in alarm when she noticed the evil glint in his eyes. "I'm very well-known in the magic community, you know!" He nodded to himself, wearing a wise-looking expression. It didn't really suit him, Hungary thought. "I used magic to flush the poison out. Smart, huh?" Hungary stared at him in disbelief. Magic? Really? What nut had she fallen in with? No, more specifically-how come this dolt actually had an empire at one point? Only children believed in magic. "Hey...England, right?" When he nodded at her, she went on. "You need to see a doctor." Wrong thing to say, apparently; a curtain of silent gloom stretched out between them, with England shaking like a leaf every few moments; not out of fear, but pure irritation this time. "What happened to Prussia?" she asked after a while; the silence was unbearable, and she had remembered the other's body lying against a tree. Sleeping, not dead; or so he looked. "He was there with me, in the clearing. Did you see-" The effect had been immediate; from sheer irritation, he subsided into a solemn gloom. "I left him there," he murmured. "Nations have no graves." She stared at him for a moment before going back to her pot. What he said made sense; but was it really right to leave Prussia like that? She couldn't help thinking about it. "I suppose that's true, but...it just doesn't seem right." "A lot of things aren't right for us," he mumbled again, "and sometimes it's just best to leave things as they are." She closed her eyes, feeling a slight emptiness in her chest. She supposed she'd have to deal with it; or at least learn. Why though, she wondered, did England seem to know so much about this? Before she could-or either of them-could say anything more, however, a sudden flash boomed in the distant darkness, and England looked at her standing up, taking the novel with him. "What in bloody hell was that?" "It sounded like a bomb going off," she guessed, frowning. "If you're going, I'm coming along too. There's no way you're leaving me alone here." He looked surprised at first before looking away from her. "W-well, really...do as you like," he mumbled, half to himself and half to her, before starting to walk off towards the flash. Hungary pulled the pot off the fire and stomped the flames out before following, borrowed frying pan in hand. She seriously needed to get something new for herself.
"I guess I have no choice after all. On your guard, Elizaveta!"
There we go, with Chapter Two~ And yes, England's our other main character. ;D To anyone who might have noticed, the chapters are all named after the countries that feature prominently in them; originally, this chapter was supposed to be named England, but I decided to go with Austria's title instead. England has yet a while to go before he gets his own chapter—and so does Hungary! xD
So poor Hungary's using England's stuff to get around right now, and she still doesn't know why he saved her. Maybe he was just being obtuse? Who knows? At any rate, this chapter and the last are pretty much first drafts; and so will all the others that follow. And the novel will feature prominently in the next few chapters~ At least, I hope, unless something else happens. So far I've stuck pretty much to the 'countries stranded in the middle of the forest and stuff happens' format, but I think that will change next chapter. And so on and so on.
Reviews will be appreciated and nommed with much milk. Constructive criticism, on the other hand, shall be served up in a French salad; and flames shall be roasted to death with Iggy's terrible scones. (I love him, but I don't love his cooking. Sorry Iggy.)
11/05/2012: Okay, I admit it. I took down this fic for a while because I thought it wasn't good enough, but I decided to give it another shot. So...yeah.