This part is basically the happy part of the story (the first while after the two meet), so it's a bit different, as well as set during a shorter amount of time. Also, Prussia's POV.
–-
The prince-he's a king now, he reminds himself-casts a look at his family, then nods, following him out of the room. Prussia looks at him curiously. He doesn't look saddened by his father's death, but it's understandable under the circumstances. The warrior king did some cool stuff, but raising his son was not one of his feats. The king is waiting for him to say something, obviously, so he clears his throat. "Uh, right, so-Ah, screw it, I hate speeches. Why don't you just ask me stuff, OK?" The other blinks, furrows his brow, then asks: "What's your name?"
The albino grins, and replies: "I've had a bunch of names, but I guess if you're talking human-wise it'd be Gilbert Beilschmidt." Friedrich's brows shoot up, and he asks dryly: "Implying that you're not human?"
"Not one bit!", Prussia replies cheerfully. The younger-older?- man looks taken aback.
"Then what are you?" he asks, and though he obviously doesn't believe him, Prussia can see he's serious. He pretends to be thinking seriously, then answers:"For now, I would be Königreich Preußen. But before that I was Brandenburg-Prussia, and before that I was the Duchy of Prussia, and before that Royal Prussia, and before that the Orden der Brüder vom Deutschen Haus Sankt Mariens in Jerusalem, or Teutonic Knights, if you prefer."
Friedrich blinks, then scowls. „If you don't want to tell me-" he starts, before being cut off. „You don't believe me? Fine! They never do! But it's true, and I can prove it if you want! Ask me anything about this country!"
Friedrich bristles, clearly thinking he knows something Prussia doesn't. „When my father was a child," he starts, „He was so stubborn that he once swallowed what?"
Prussia laughs. „A buckle! I remember that! Ha! The kid was so stubborn he refused to spit it out! He drove poor Anna crazy!" Friedrich looks surprised, having obviously believed he was the only one to know this. „You could've heard that from the older counsellors." he mutters.
Prussia groans. This conversation is so old by now.
"Okay, okay! Let me tell you about your Opa!" And so he recites the old man's entire life history, relishing the way the other's eyes widen incredulously. There is a silence when he pauses for breath, and they stare at each other for a moment.
Friedrich starts slowly: "So...if, hypothetically, I believed you...Then what?" Prussia grins.
"Then I guess I'd just make sure you take care of the awesome me, yeah?" Friedrich snorts.
"You don't think too lowly of yourself." "I don't see any reason to, and you better not change that, m'kay?" the nation replies. "Indeed." Friedrich says, a smile creeping onto his face, and Prussia has a feeling that this guy might just be awesome.
–-
He wakes him up every day by jumping on his bed. At first the new king seems basically stunned by the sheer idiocy of the project, but hey, better than cannons, right? When Prussia tells him this, Friedrich is surprised by how much he remembers. Prussia just laughs and calls him "kid". When Friedrich replies that he's twenty-eight now, Prussia retorts that he's five hundred, and has all the rights to call him kid. From then on the king resigns himself to his fate.
–-
They bicker a lot, over a large range of things, and Bavaria tells Prussia they sound like an old married couple. Prussia badmouths "those southern idiots" and Bavaria lunges at him. When Friedrich gets there there's a fully-fledged brawl going on, with Hesse trying to calm them and Saxony just throwing things at them. He lectures Prussia about fighting, and Prussia calls him weak, and they start bickering again.
The fights never last long, though, and they never get too angry, so it's fine. Friedrich rather enjoys the bickering, sometimes, Prussia can tell. And he's Prussia, so he loves any kind of fight.
–-
Fritz, as Prussia has now baptised him, is very interested in everything.
They sit and talk in the evenings, which for the battle-thirsty nation is a first; and his new ruler wants to hear about it all. Prussia isn't used to the rulers wanting to hear about him, but he's always confident (that stupid Austria would say he's an arrogant imbecile, but no one care what he says), so he loves telling his stories.
Fritz is sharp, too; when Prussia starts exaggerating his exploits or sugar-coating his failures, he fixes him until the nation confesses. He doesn't mind too much, because Friedrich doesn't mock him, and seems to genuinely like him. Prussia can't think of anyone else who does.
So he talks, and Fritz listens, and it's actually pretty nice.
–-
Friedrich is particularly interested in the other countries, Prussia can tell. He doesn't ask much about them at first, probably deeming it a bit rude; but as they grow closer he starts asking more. "So tell me about the nations," he requests one night, sitting straighter in his chair. "Whaddya wanna know?" Prussia asks, from where he's lounging on the sofa.
"Are there many others? What are they like? Do you have families? Since when were you there? What happens when you die? How do you age? Do you see each other often? Can you-"
The ruby-eyed man laughs, cutting off the stream of questions. "Woah, hold your horses! One at a time, please!" The king smiles, slightly abashed.
Prussia breathes out slowly. Gott, this kid...
"So...other countries, right? Yeah, there are a bunch..." So he tells him of the countries he knows, from England to Spain to Denmark to Russia to Ottoman to Egypt to China, and all those in between, giving brief descriptions of them all. "But there are many others I haven't met yet, course.", he adds with a shrug. Friedrich's eyes are shining with amusement, and he looks delighted. "That's a lot of people." he points out.
Prussia scoffs. "Doesn't mean I like all of them." Friedrich nods pensively: "Just like with humans, I guess." He turns towards him again. "Who do you like?"
Good question, the albino thinks, and realises he's said it out loud. Friedrich laughs (he has a kid's laugh, Prussia thinks) and adds: "Right, let me reformulate that: Who are your friends?"
That's even worse, Prussia thinks, and replies, rather edgily: "We don't really have 'em. It's kill or be killed."
Seeing the other's dismayed expression, he quickly adds: "But I guess Francis and Toni. Uh, France and Spain." Friedrich leans forwards, excited: "France?" Something akin to jealousy makes him want to rip the Frenchman's hair out, but he forces himself to answer: "Yeah. But don't expect me to sing his praises. We're friends cause we get each other, and we get that if we have to fight we will. If I had to kill Francis I would. And if he had to kill me he would. We just have some kind of agreement to not...I dunno. Be unfair about it or something. No backstabbing."
Friedrich frowns slightly, and Prussia sighs. "It's complicated, I know. Forget it. It's kinda..." He searches for words. "Like, we help each other survive? We start off so many countries and kingdoms and states and you have to fight to make it, you know? So we fight, and each time we go up one level, and there's less chance of us just...fading away. I-it's complicated." He finishes lamely, but Fritz nods anyway, and Prussia has a feeling he gets it. He feels slightly embarrassed, though, because that was all very emotional for someone like him, and pfft, he sounds like Francis.
"Uh, right, so families?" he asks quickly, because there's a gleam of understanding in his ruler's eyes which he doesn't want there. No pity!
Fritz nods, and Prussia continues: "Well, uh, we all have some kind of parent, but we don't necessarily get to know them...We basically kinda stay small until we really become potential nations, and then we grow until we reach, like, our "twenties". If you start fading or shit, you age a bit too. But anyway, yeah. My father would be Germania, and I can't tell you much about him except that he was stereotypically German, with the angry poker face and all that." He pulls a face to prove his point, and Fritz laughs (a sound which the nation relishes). "Now, believe it or not, but Germania was a way bigger womanizer than Rome was-with nations, at least. He had me, those idiots Austria and Bavaria, Hesse, Saxony, Brandenburg, Holstein, Holy Roman, that angry kid, that baby kid, those three that don't really consider them selves part of the family-ya know, Netherlands, blonde chick and mini-France?-, Sweden, Denmark, Norge, uh, that's all?"
"All?" Friedrich asks, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought I had many siblings."
Prussia bursts out laughing, and manages to avoid the death issue for the while being.
–-
Prussia knows it's stupid, but he hates it when Fritz talks about France. Friedrich is a big fan of French culture, and the way he talks you'd think Francis is some kind of god. He asks a lot about him, and Prussia spits out insult after insult about his long-time foe. Fritz doesn't seem to register them, though, and merely continues telling his charge about the many merits of the French.
Prussia feels an angry boiling in the pit of his stomach, and recognises it as jealousy. He hates being jealous, because he knows that he is far superior than Francis. Francis! And that Racine guy, who spends so much time with his king...He's an idiot. Prussia can tell. No good. Rubbish.
Friedrich just shoots him a tired yet affectionate glance, and Prussia feels his cheeks colouring in anger and embarrassment. Damn the French!
–-
France, on the other hand, is very amused by Prussia's treasured king being such a big fan. He swallows his amusement when the Prussia presents him with the threat of never engaging in any kind of "activity" ever again if he offends Friedrich in any way. When Friedrich enters the palace, the first thing he sees is Francis, lounging in the door frame, who immediately bows with many frills and addresses the king: "My liege."
They discuss poetry and art and music, and the Frenchman is astounded that someone from "such a rough, barbaric nation" could be so educated in the fine arts. Friedrich laughs, and replies that he can't deny the "rough barbaric nation" has style. When the time to depart arrives, after a few days of pleasant discussion, the nation of love enters the king's room to find him standing at the window, fixing the outside with a cryptic expression. Francis walks to him, but he guesses from the shouts below what Friedrich is looking at. "...Sei still, du-!" Clang. "Nein, nein, ich soll nicht!"Clang. He looks over the king's shoulder at Prussia, who is duelling three of the younger soldiers, laughing. The three boys are fighting hard, and yet do not manage to do much against the militaristic nation. "Vous savez, Monsieur, n'y prenez pas offense...Mais le pays qui m'est le plus cher reste le mien." Friedrich says, not looking upwards. France merely nods, feeling rather fond of his long time "bad friend" for once. "C'est étonnant, mais pour une fois je vous comprends." he replies smoothly. Friedrich laughs lightly, looks up the blonde man, and tells him: "Quand je serai parti, gardez un oeil sur lui, s'il vous plaît." He pats his shoulder lightly, then leaves the slightly astounded Frenchman behind as he exits the room. Francis stares at his retreating back, feeling vaguely childish for the first time in a while, then chuckles. He's got to admit; in this aspect, la Prusse definitely has style.
–-
Not very long after that, the wars start.
–-
Cliff hanger again, woops ^^;
I swear I didn't mean to! But yes, next chapter is going to be more angsty and war-y than this one.
Also, for the sibling thing, Austria, Prussia, Germany, HRE, Bavaria, Hesse, Brandenburg, Saxony, Holstein, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and Sweden are all Germania's official offspring. Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg are also thought to canonically be his children (which would make sense given their history) but they would've nearly never seen him (especially the latter two seeing as they're also half French), and seeing as Sweden, Denmark and Norway are brothers, it would make sense that they're related. Woah, long rant!
Okay, translation time:
Konigreich Preußen: Kingdom of Prussia
Order : Teutonic Knights
Opa: grampa
Gott: God
Sei still, du: Be quiet, you!
Nein, nein, ich soll nicht: No, no, I won't!
Vous savez, Monsieur (..) le mien: You know, sir, don't take offense, but the country I cherish the most is still my country.
C'est (..) comprends: It's astonishing but for once I understand that.
Quand je serai(..) lui: When I'm gone, keep an eye on him, please!
La Prusse: Prussia
Reviews are my life O.O
See you next chapter!