5/24/11
For Love of his Nation
Part I: The Child
Chapter 4
"If it takes my whole life, I won't break I won't bend.
It will all be worth it, worth it in the end.
Cause I can only tell you what I know,
That I need you in my life.
And when the stars have all burned out you'll still be,
Burning so bright."
-Sarah McLaughlin, "Answer"
Summer, 1718 1.
Towards the end of August the royal family of Prussia was paid a visit by Peter the Great of Russia. Friedrich William was not in attendance, having planned a trip beforehand to his duchy in East Prussia, but upon hearing of Peter the Great's intended visit had ordered Gilbert to stay behind and assist the queen in entertaining their royal company.2 The entire week between the departure of his own king and the arrival of Russia's saw Gilbert in a constant foul mood, liable to snap at anything that so much as twitched in his presence. The only one who would voluntarily approach him was Friedrich.
"Tsar Peter is my Godfather, isn't he?" Friedrich asked one afternoon, taking a break from practicing his newest song to talk to his Nation, who was staring moodily out a window.
"One of 'em, yeah," Gilbert answered.
"You don't like him," Friedrich said.
"I've got nothing against the Tsar, Fritz, he's a strong ruler. He's good for his people."
"But you don't want him to come here," Friedrich said, a question clear in his words.
"It's Russia I don't want to come here," Gilbert said. "I don't want Russia coming anywhere near my lands." There was a growl in his words, and as he spoke one of his hands curled up into a fist. "I don't want Russia coming anywhere near my people."
"I thought Russia was our ally," Friedrich said.
"Russia's ruler is our ally," Gilbert said. "Russia himself is no one's ally. Ivan is insane, a child's mind melded with a despot's twisted imagination. And he doesn't care who he hurts, or why."
Friedrich was silent a moment before he asked, "Are you afraid of him?"
"I'm not afraid of anything!" Gilbert snapped. "My army is strong enough to stand up to his! Why should I be afraid?"
Friedrich stood and slowly approached his Nation, reaching out to gently uncurl the fingers that Gilbert had clenched so tight they were now drawing blood from his palm. As Friedrich wrapped his fingers around them Gilbert finally turned to look at him.
"I wasn't asking if Prussia was afraid of Russia," Friedrich said, meeting his Nation's eyes. Gilbert was suddenly struck by how adult the child seemed. "I was asking if Gilbert was afraid of Ivan."
He held Gilbert's eyes as the albino's lips tightened and he didn't answer.
"You don't need to be worried," Friedrich said after several moments of tense silence. "I'm your Crown Prince. I will let nothing happen to you."
"It's not me I'm worried about, Kid," Gilbert said, curling his fingers up around the small ones that gripped his.
"A Nation not at war with you would not dare harm your royal family."
"Russia is unstable," Gilbert said. "I can't honestly say what he would or would not do."
"Does Father know how you feel?"
Gilbert snorted. It was answer enough.
Friedrich raised his head high. "Nothing will harm you while I live to prevent it, Prussia. As your Crown Prince I so swear."
Gilbert smiled. "Kid, are you sure you're only six? Because you do a damn good job acting like you're twenty-six." He squeezed the boy's fingers gently. "Stop growing up so fast," he added.
"Well I can hardly help it, Prussia," Friedrich said with a quick grin. "I'm only human."
Gilbert's smile tightened slightly. "Yeah," he said quietly, turning to look back out the window. "I know."
When Peter the Great and his entourage arrived a few days later it was to much fanfare and excitement. Queen Sophia had worked the palace staff into a tizzy. It was rare that she was able to entertain guests as she wanted and she was taking full advantage of the occasion. She had even managed to convince her spendthrift husband into leaving her in charge of what to buy in terms of decorations and food in order to impress their royal company.
Although quite obviously the most eager to welcome the Tsar on his arrival, it was deemed safer for the pregnant queen to wait in her rooms to receive him after the overly stressful week she had spent overseeing the preparations for his arrival. She had protested the orders of her doctors until Gilbert asked her himself, quiet and earnest. She sulked, but agreed as long as he accompanied the welcoming party.
"Like I could really do anything else, anyway," Gilbert muttered, standing at the bottom of the outside stairs and flanked on either side by the two eldest royal children. He fought the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, instead crossing his arms across his chest.
"I hardly understand why you're so testy, Prussia," Wilhelmina said, standing up on tiptoes to catch a better glimpse of the carriages coming ever closer. "We never receive company like this. It's exciting!"
Friedrich said nothing, but he reached up and gave Gilbert's elbow a brief squeeze. Gilbert's eyes flicked down to the boy, who's own eyes never left the road. Gilbert felt a crooked grin form on his face as he returned his own gaze to the approaching caravan.
Very soon the grandest of the carriages had pulled to a halt in front of them and servants in fancy livery were pulling open the doors. Peter the Great was one of the tallest men Prussia could ever remember seeing. At 6'8" he towered above even Russia who was the tallest of the Nations.3 He did not, however, have his Nation's impressive build, slender rather than stocky, he looked almost as if a strong breeze could blow him over. But he had an open expression of delight upon his face as he gazed at the trio that stood to welcome him, and the friendly clap he delivered to Gilbert's shoulder forced the Prussian Nation to take a step back to keep from falling over.
"Prussia!" Tsar Peter exclaimed, oblivious to the way Gilbert was carefully edging away from him. "How wonderful to finally meet you in person! Such a pity that your king must be away on business, but such is life!"
Gilbert gave a grunt in lieu of a reply but the Tsar hardly noticed. His attention had been captured by Wilhelmina and he had dropped to one knee in front of the girl, taking her hand and delivering a kiss to the back of it. "Ah, but your father has failed to mention that he has such a beautiful flower budding under his roof!" the Tsar exclaimed, still holding Wilhelmina's hand in his. She was blushing, her other hand positioned in front of her mouth to hide her smile at the flattery. "Why, in just a few years I imagine that minstrels across Europe will be vying for a chance to write songs about your beauty!"
Prussia wrinkled his nose in distaste at the excessive flattery (though he did privately agree that his princess was far more beautiful than any of her European competitors. Even if he hadn't met many of the others yet she was his princess and that gave her superiority.) A sudden chill prompted Gilbert to look up, and he met the gaze of Ivan Braginsky, standing no more than a foot away from him. Gilbert stood rigid with his shoulders back, fighting the chill that threatened to ripple down his spine.
"Prussia," Ivan's voice was almost a purr.
"Russia," Gilbert ground out, eyes narrowing. Ivan's smile stretched wider.
"How wonderful it is to see you again. It seems that I shall be imposing on your hospitality for a time, da?"
Gilbert stiffened at the implication behind the childishly innocent tone, but before he could reply there was a sudden movement on his right. Friedrich stepped forward, bowing very correctly to Ivan before straightening and shifting his position a bit. A tiny smile curled on Ivan's lips and his eyes darkened just slightly as he noticed where the boy had purposefully positioned himself; directly in front of Gilbert so that he stood between his Nation and Russia.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Russia. I am Friedrich, Crown Prince of Prussia." His words were correct and his tone polite, but there was protectiveness written into every aspect of his stance and expression. He met Ivan's gaze without flinching.
The northern Nation was silent for a moment as he assessed the boy, before giving a short but formal bow of his own. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Little King," he said, a chuckle evident behind his words. "I have a feeling that this visit is going to be… interesting." There was a careful emphasis on his last word.
Gilbert put a hand on his Crown Prince's shoulder, taking a half-step forward so he was standing directly behind the boy. He and Ivan locked gazes, each refusing to be the first to look away.
"Well!" the sudden exclamation startled the three out of their standoff. Tsar Peter was standing and stepped up beside them, grinning. "It seems we have all had time to exchange proper greetings." His eyes traveled down to Friedrich. "And at last I get to meet my Godson." He held out his hand and, startled, the boy took it. "I hope that there will be plenty of time for the two of us to talk later. Your father has written about you, once or twice. I believe we shall have some interesting conversations. But that shall come later, it has been a long journey and I should like to greet the queen before I take my rest. Russia, come. The little princess has agreed to guide us."
Wilhelmina smiled radiantly, giving a low curtsy, before turning to guide the Tsar and his Nation back inside the palace. Ivan paused as he walked away, looking back over his shoulder at Gilbert and Friedrich. He smiled, nodding his head slowly, before following after his ruler.
As the foreign servants began to bustle about them Gilbert let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Friedrich fidgeted under the hand still on his shoulder and Gilbert was startled to realize that he was gripping the boy so hard he was probably going to end up with a bruise. He released him with a muttered, "Sorry."
Friedrich didn't respond, staring up after Russia as he walked through the doors and absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder. "I don't like him," he said at last, turning to look at Gilbert. "I don't like the way he looks at you. Like you belong to him. You don't."
Gilbert quirked a grin. "Because I belong to you, Kid?" he began to walk, not expecting an answer. He got one anyway.
"No, Prussia. You belong to yourself."
Startled, Gilbert turned back around to face his Crown Prince. Friedrich stood, back straight and eyes flashing challenge. "You belong to yourself," he repeated. "No one should get to keep you, or cage you. Not Russia, not my father, and not me. A king should ensure that his Nation is free." His eyes narrowed and his last words were murmured as if to himself but Gilbert still heard, "And when I'm King you always will be."
Entirely at a loss for what to say in response, Gilbert raised his hand towards Friedrich but halted halfway. Words died unspoken on his lips as he met the boy's eyes again. Slowly, a grin formed across his face. "Fritz, you are going to be something else."
Friedrich smiled briefly, then reached up and took the hand that Gilbert hadn't lowered. "Mother will be wondering what's keeping us," he said simply as he led his Nation back into the palace.
The days following the Tsar's arrival began to fall into a pattern. They would all take breakfast together in Queen Sophia's chambers and after Tsar Peter would entertain the Queen with stories of his home. He would often take walks after, insisting that Prussia and the two eldest royal children accompany him so they could show him about the palace and the grounds. Russia was always present for these walks often hovering at the back of the group and rarely saying anything. After lunch Tsar Peter would usually invite Prussia and Friedrich to accompany him on a horseback ride. The man seemed to revel in the warm summer of the southern nation, often declining to talk during the rides in favor taking in the sights and smells of everything around him. Because of the brisk pace he would set Gilbert opted to have Friedrich share his horse to ensure the boy kept his seat when the Tsar would occasionally decide to urge the horses into a run.
Supper was taken in the dining hall. The children marveled at the food that was being served. Friedrich William preferred very simple meals, like meat and cabbage; soldiers' fare as his father had once dubbed it, and his family had grown used to dining thus. Sophia had pressured her husband for a budget to feed their company in a more lavish way and her husband had caved to her prodding. Her children would marvel every night at the newest succulent concoction that the kitchen staff had prepared. The typical plates and cutlery of wood and pewter had been replaced, at least for Russia and his Tsar, with the silver that usually only the Queen was permitted to eat from.
After supper tea was taken in the Queen's apartments, and more sedate pastimes punctuated the conversation. For a little while each evening, with prompting from his mother and sister, Friedrich would entertain the company by playing on his drum or, occasionally, a tune on the flute he had recently begun to learn to play.
"I prefer the flute," he said after the first night he performed for them with it. "But right now I am better practiced with my drum. You will have to return again in a few years, Godfather, so I can entertain you properly."
Tsar Peter had laughed, clapping the boy on the shoulder. Even in the evenings he was energetic and prone to sudden bouts of enthusiasm wherein he would spring to his feet or pace the room. Where such a slender, almost willowy (not to mention middle aged) man kept all that energy hidden Gilbert couldn't even begin to guess. And though Gilbert guardedly approved of the man, he also had his quirks. He had come accompanied by a small cluster of women, several of whom carried infants or toddlers in their arms. Gilbert had overheard Wilhelmina address them in the evening of the first day they arrived.
"But my good ladies," she had said, upon seeing the children. "Should it not have been better for you to stay home with your husbands while caring for children so young? This was a far way to travel."
Most of the women had looked at her in confusion. Only a few of them spoke French4 (which is how Wilhelmina had addressed them, since none of them spoke German) but even those who did could not seem to grasp her words. Finally one of the women had curtseyed low, balancing her child on one arm.
"My good Princess, we have no husbands. The Tsar has done us the great honor of fathering our children."5
In spite of her courtly training Wilhelmina's eyebrows rose in shock. Having nothing to say in reply, she curtsied and crossed the room again to stand by her mother. After that little display Gilbert also kept a very wary eye on just how much attention the Tsar paid to the princess. Wilhelmina herself seemed slightly more off put to his attentions after that, keeping close to her mother or brother.
Throughout all of this Russia continued to hover in the background, lurking behind his Tsar's shoulder like a demented shadow and only actively participating in conversations when directly addressed. Even Queen Sophia commented once after the Russian party had retired one night, "Goodness, but I don't know how the Tsar can tolerate that man leering behind him like that all the time, his Nation or no. He's fairly disturbing."
I couldn't agree more, Gilbert thought silently, glancing at Ivan from the corner of his eye. Ivan was seated a few feet away, leaning serenely back in his chosen arm-chair with his hands folded across his lap. Though his attention was seemingly focused on his ruler and the conversation he was having with Friedrich, every so often his eyes would flick over to Gilbert as if assessing whether or not the Prussian had let his guard down yet.
With a massive effort Gilbert averted his attention in an effort to ignore the northern Nation. He focused instead on his Crown Prince. Friedrich quite enjoyed the evening conversations with his Godfather. The Tsar took him seriously and listened to what he had to say in spite of the boy's age. Friedrich rose to meet this quiet respect, constructing well thought out opinions and instigating debates. When given a topic he did not know how to discuss he would research it thoroughly the next day, or ask Gilbert or his tutor for an explanation, and return to the Tsar that night with his own opinions on whatever the subject had been.
"He is very intelligent, you Little King," someone said quietly from Gilbert's left side. Cursing himself for not paying better attention, Gilbert whipped his head around to see that Russia was standing, and repositioning his chair so that it caddy-cornered Gilbert's. The albino narrowed his eyes, leaving it unspoken, but quite plain, that Ivan's proximity was unwelcome. Ivan merely smiled, settling himself comfortably again in his chair.
"Friedrich's not my king yet," Gilbert eventually said, and couldn't resist adding, "But he's shaping up to be the best damn ruler Europe has ever seen." He angled his body in his chair so that he didn't have to take his eyes off of Ivan. Diplomatic visit or not, Gilbert trusted the northern Nation about as far as he could throw him.
"Perhaps you are too attached to the boy? He is intelligent, certainly, but no more so than any other young presumptive ruler. Besides, he is but a child yet. And childhood can be fraught with… accidents."
Gilbert's eyes flashed with challenge and he bristled, leaning forward slightly in his chair. Ivan's smile had the tiniest hint of satisfaction about it.
"Nothing will happen to Friedrich while I'm around!" Gilbert growled.
"Ah, but you cannot always be around, da? Perhaps you teach the boy to rely on you too much?"
"You'd best think twice before threatening my royal family in my home, Russia!" Gilbert said, eyes narrowed and voice practically a hiss. Ivan settled back contentedly into his chair, like the cat that had just gotten the canary.
"Who said anything about threats, Prussia? I merely comment on the whims of fate."
"Our fates are what we make of them," said an unexpected voice. Both Nations glanced to the side to see Friedrich standing in front of them. Gilbert had to suppress the urge to leap up and drag the boy behind him.
Russia tilted his head to the side as he studied the boy, a small smirk hovering on his lips.
"You do not believe in fate?" he asked.
"Our decisions are our own, as are the consequences of them," Friedrich replied. "Although, it seems I was under a mistaken impression that this was a religious debate. I enjoy those, which is why I came over to join the two of you."
Russia's eyebrows rose. Clearly he didn't buy the polite lie but it was just as clear that Friedrich didn't care. It had merely been an excuse to abandon his previous discussion so that he could interpose himself between the two Nations and break the clearly rising tension.
"Sorry, Friedrich," Gilbert said with a forced chuckle. "Afraid that…. discussion, was political."
"Oh," the Crown Prince said, then shrugged and situated himself on the edge of Gilbert's chair, facing Ivan. Gilbert obligingly shifted his legs to give the boy more space, but kept his feet planted on the floor, ready to leap up at a second's notice if Ivan decided to so much as twitch a finger in Friedrich's direction.
"If the two of you don't mind I would like to sit in on your discussion. It would be interesting to hear the opinions of nations themselves on international politics." Friedrich smiled, the very picture of innocent schoolboy curiosity, but there was no mistaking the challenge that flashed in his eyes as they met Russia's. And there was no way Ivan mistook that challenge for anything but what it was. But he smiled obligingly and began a new thread of conversation that included Friedrich.
"You didn't need to do that," Gilbert said later as he was walking Friedrich back to his room. "I can handle Ivan."
"I told you, Prussia," Friedrich said, turning to look his Nation in the eye. "I'm your Crown Prince. It's my job to protect you. And," he frowned, eyes darting around to make sure there was no one around to overhear. "I really don't like the way Ivan acts around you. It's like, like…" the boy groped for words. "Like he's a puppet master and he can control you by tugging your strings."
"Russia's good at that," Gilbert admitted. "He'll wait and he'll watch, rather like a spider, then find something he can manipulate in his favor." Gilbert sighed. "Unfortunately, after all this time at it, he knows exactly which strings to pull, and how hard he has to tug to get the reaction he wants. And he can find new strings very quickly."
The two paused outside the door to Friedrich's room and faced one another. Friedrich sighed.
"I will miss the conversations I have with the Tsar. But I can't regret his leaving if it gets Ivan away from you. My Godfather is an intriguing man, but I do not like his Nation."
Gilbert reached up as if to ruffle his hair, paused, then lowered his arm to give the boy a fierce, though brief, one armed hug.
"They leave in just a few days to meet up with your father before heading home to Russia."
"Just as well," Friedrich said with a sudden grin. "I think Wilhelmina is just about ready to kick them out herself."
Gilbert grimaced. His little princess had grown tired of the Tsar's overly affectionate attentions very quickly. Recently, in a bid to escape the worst of them in the evenings, she had taken to sitting on her mother's lap. When shooed away by the pregnant queen, who admittedly had little lap room to offer, Wilhelmina had plopped herself on Gilbert's legs and refused to be moved.
"I think even your mother will be relieved to be able to rest once they're gone," Gilbert said after a while. "And on that note, I think it's about time you go in to bed. I know I'd like to sleep for about a week, personally."
"Well, good night then, Gilbert," Friedrich said. He hesitated with his door half open, and just as Gilbert was about to ask what was wrong, he flung his arms around his Nation's waist, gave a quick but fierce squeeze, then darted into his room.
Gilbert stared at the closed door for a moment, stunned; he hadn't held the boy in well over a year. Then he smiled, eyes softening before closing briefly, then snapping open and glancing about to make sure that no one had caught his moment of sentimentality. His lips half-quirked as he realized he was alone. With one last glance at the door, he turned and headed back for his own rooms.
The entire Prussian royal family, with the exception of the absent king, was present to bid farewell to Tsar Peter of Russia and his entourage on the morning of their departure. Even the two baby princesses were in attendance, held carefully by their dutiful nursemaids.
Tsar Peter knelt first before Wilhelmina, tenderly taking one of her hands in his and kissing the back of it. Her smile looked more like a grimace and Gilbert could almost hear her chanting to herself inside her own head; "Just five more minutes. Just five more minutes. I only have to deal with this for five more minutes." Aloud she managed a brief, though decidedly unfelt, lament that the Tsar's stay with them had been too short and that she would pray at the next service for him to be able to visit again. Gilbert almost snorted at that one; if Wilhelmina, and her brother for that matter, prayed for anything during Sunday services it was that they ended quickly.
"My dear Queen Sophia Dorothia," Tsar Peter said, clasping the queen's hands between his own and bowing briefly over them. "It has been my privilege to have been your guest, even for far too short a time as this."
"Oh, think nothing of it, my good Tsar," the Queen replied, eyelids half lowered and a coy, flattered little smile on her lips. "It was my very distinct pleasure to have you. I do hope that you manage to return again one day, I am fair devastated by your departure."
"God willing, I shall visit again some day," the Tsar promised.
Gilbert sighed, thinking he rather deserved a medal for managing to not roll his eyes during the conversation. The Tsar stopped before him next, nodded politely and clapped him on the shoulder with a smile. Gilbert had braced himself, so while he swayed, he didn't have to backpedal to keep his feet.
"It has been a pleasure, Prussia, to have been a guest in your country."
Gilbert blinked in surprise, not expecting to have been addressed and unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, he didn't need to because Tsar Peter did not wait for a response before dropping to one knee before his godson.
"Talking with you has been a rare delight, Friedrich. You are the most intelligent lad your age I have ever had the privilege to converse with. There is the makings of a great king in you." He gave the boy's shoulder a brief squeeze. Wide-eyed at the praise, Friedrich remembered to bow only as the Tsar was rising.
"Farewell, Godfather. I pray you a safe return home."
As the Tsar bid his final farewells and walked away, Ivan lingered. He bowed once to the queen, who nodded her head in lieu of the curtsey her awkward body would not allow her to give before taking Wilhelmina's hand and leading her back inside. Russia watched their departure for a moment before turning to face Gilbert.
"So it seems we part for the time being," Ivan said, almost pleasantly. He looked down at Friedrich, who had once again angled himself in front of his Nation. Gilbert had both his hands on the boy's shoulders. Ivan chuckled as he stared at them, and began to turn as if to walk away, then paused.
"Do take care of Prussia, Little King," Ivan said, looking right at Friedrich, who met his stare evenly. "It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him before our next meeting."
Friedrich didn't answer Ivan, simply met the Nation's eyes until Ivan turned away to walk to his Tsar's carriage and climb inside. As the caravan began to move away both Prussia and his Crown Prince visibly relaxed.
"Shame if anything happens to me indeed," Gilbert muttered. "Before he can do it himself, he means."
"He won't," Friedrich said. Gilbert glanced down in surprise at the vehemence in the boy's tone to find that both of his hands were clenched into fists. "He won't hurt you, not ever. I won't let him!"
With sudden, wry amusement, Gilbert dropped to one knee before his young prince and calmly uncurled the boy's fists, struck by the reversal of the scene that had taken place mere weeks ago.
"I know you won't," Gilbert said quietly, and moved with a sudden, fierce affection and uncaring of who saw he gently kissed the boy's forehead. "I know you won't. You're going to grow up strong, and together we'll kick Russia's sorry ass if he tries anything."
Friedrich clenched Gilbert's hands tightly, leaning his forehead against his Nation's and inhaling a shaky breath. "Will I?" he asked querulously. "Will I be strong? Am I going to be great, like Godfather said?"
Startled, Gilbert drew back to meet Fritz's suddenly moist eyes, reminded quite rudely that however intelligent the boy was, he was still just that; a boy. A child. A child who may be perceptive and good with words and strong in the few convictions he had formed so far, but who was terribly young and not yet ready for the role he already knew he would one day be needed to fill. Gilbert smiled, bright and full, standing and sweeping his Crown Prince up in his arms in one smooth movement.
"You aren't going to be great, Friedrich, because you are going to be so much better than that." He felt Friedrich's arms wrap and tighten about his shoulders. "I've said it before, Kid, and I'll say it again now. You are going to be awesome."
1. This visit of Tsar Peter's actually occurred the year before, in 1717. However as the chapter went on I realized that some…. Most…. Okay, all of the conversations involving Fritz were pretty unbelievable for a five-year-old. Granted, even according to my history books he held some incredibly intelligent conversations at five, notably during his Godfather's stay. However, for sake of story flow, I upgraded his age to six in an attempt to raise slightly less eyebrows.
2. Frederick William was, in fact, not in attendance for this visit. Why, I have no idea, but it certainly made writing this chapter much easier.
3. Actually, Russia and Sweden are exactly the same height, but that explanation didn't fit comfortably there so I clipped it altogether.
4. French was the language most commonly spoken in court, rather than German. In fact, though I think most of us already know this, Friedrich himself barely spoke German.
5. As I'll explain in a minute, most of the information I have on Tsar Peter the Great comes from his Wikipedia page. (Don't judge me!) Mistresses aren't mentioned there at all, just his two wives and the fourteen children he had by them. (Only three of which survived to adulthood, by the way. His life fairly sucked.) However this incident is taken from Willhelmina's personal memoirs and I thought it was interesting enough to include. Also, I read Peter the Great's wikipedia page. I doubt the topic of mistresses and illegitimate children are important enough to squeeze in.
AN: This author's note is going to be a bit longer than usual, so fair warning. First, I apologize profusely for the delay in updating. Life has been using me like a chew toy. I can promise it won't take two more months to get chapter five out. And chapter five is the last chapter of the first arc! Woo hoo!
Second: I did very little research into the life of Peter the Great outside of what was mentioned in the books I'm reading on Friedrich. My research, admittedly, involved reading his wikipedia page. Yes I hear you all gasping in shock, but kindly forestall throwing the blunt objects and rotten food. What I have learned about the man thus far leads me to believe that researching his life would be incredibly interesting, but I didn't feel it was necessary to the story to get more than a basic profile and a rough personality sketch. I'm probably dead wrong about the personality anyway, but where wikipedia and my books on Friedrich clashed, I went with the books. I may do more research on Peter the Great one day, he certainly seems like a fascinating individual, however it won't be for a while. When I finish this story I have one outlined for France and Joan of Arc, and I'm also reading about Wyatt Earp, so I'll probably end up scattering some one-shots about him in there somewhere.
And thirdly: My thoughts on Russia. Brace yourselves, this may take a while. To start with I'm going to say I do not believe that Russia is evil in the slightest, which may be how he came across here. I do believe he is perfectly capable of being vindictive, and I do not believe that he and Prussia have ever, in their entire history, gotten along even during the times that necessity made them allies. My beta and I had disagreements over his portrayal here so to be fair I'm going to post her argument: "My only real problem is your portrayal of Russia. Don't get me wrong, the majority of the time I like him perfectly…especially his lurking. But… and this is just my personal opinion, I always saw Russia as not exactly sinister because I don't think he would even understand what it means to be sinister but instead very oblivious to the fact that what he does it wrong and cruel because he thinks it is right…do you get what I mean? It's hard to explain…more of a general feeling… Though I am aware that Prussia and Russia certainly dislike each other greatly so I definitely like that part too." I go back and forth quite a bit on just how sane I think Russia really is. I think he usually views the world through the eyes of a child because children are, at heart, innocent and he yearns for that innocence and it is the only way he knows to hold on to it. The result is his almost childlike cruelty, the way he'll hurt Lithuania and the Baltics to make them stay with him, for example. I also believe that he is perfectly capable of malicious when he wants to be, and we already know that he knows how to be manipulative. Add that to the fact that he and Prussia openly hate each other… and well, you get pretty much what I wrote. At least, that's how I feel. And with the only people in this chapter for him to interact with being Prussia or Prussia's royal family there wasn't much wiggle room from Russia's more childlike persona to make itself known, unless you count his baiting Gilbert about Friedrich because let's be honest; there was no way he could possibly hurt Prussia's Crown Prince under the over-protective Nation's nose, and especially not when his own ruler was so fond of the boy. So baiting Gilbert to get a reaction out of him was the only thing he could do, and he quite obviously enjoyed doing so. Would he really have harmed Fritz given the opportunity? I like to think not. So yeah, my overly long explanation on Russia's characterization.
No preview this time, but for the next chapter I do promise drama. Lots and lots of drama.
Last thing, I swear. I'm thinking about setting up a forum for this story for everyone to discuss thoughts, characters, history and the like. Anyone interested? If I get enough interest I'll set it up when I post the next chapter.
Reviewer Responses:
Thanks to Darth-Xieda, ChibiStarr, WestAero13, ChaoticXXHearts, KitakLaw, Snow. inZodiac, Lydiacatfish, Obi-Wan Jinn, Trumpet-Geek, and everyone who has been reading, favoriting, alerting, or generally lurking about this story. You all rock!
Darth-Xieda: ^_^ You're awesome. And I can't wait to get to the chapters with Austria. They are going to be epic.
ChibiStarr: Never underestimate the high school library. On occasion, they surprise you. But just in case go to your local public library and request the two books I'm reading. (why yes, I will be shamelessly plugging them for the entire story.)
ChaoticXXHearts: I went into this project expecting to hate Friedrich William, to tell the truth. From what I knew of him before reading these books I thought it would be easy to write him as a villain, but as it turns out I was very, very wrong. I still don't like him in the slightest, but my detest for him as a person has been tempered by a grudging respect for the admittedly very good ruler he was, and trace amounts of sympathy for the suffering he was almost constantly in. This complicated view will start becoming apparent a little later on, I think.
KitakLaw: do you know where I'd be able to listen to some of the music that Friedrich II composed? I would really like to, especially since I'm starting to write about him playing the flute, actually hearing his music would probably help those scenes.
Snow. inZodiac: I have a fan! *wiggles in glee* I'm so glad you're enjoying this. The reason I actively started writing it (other than my beta breathing down my neck and threatening to strangle me in my sleep if I didn't) was because some of the fics I most enjoyed in the Hetalia section were the ones that dealt specifically with actual historical events or people. You're right that a lot of writers do, unfortunately, ignore the people and events that actually shaped the nations. (also I apologize for the space in your name; apparently ff . net thinks it's a web address and erased it the first time around.)
Lydiacatfish: shhhhhh! Spoilers! Ha ha. But yes, there will be rough patches coming up, some significantly worse than others. They begin, in fact, next chapter….